#i should put it back the way it was and re set up my shitty little photographing station
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next // previous
august 25, 2021
8:00 p.m.
the black pearl
[grant] well, i know it doesn’t fix the existential angst and you shouldn’t ever feel like it needs to go away instantly, but i guarantee you will be a good dad.
[grant] any kids you have will feel loved. they’ll be set up for the future no matter how everyone’s lives play out. i know you’ll do your best, and i know soobin will, too. you guys have worked so hard to have such a long and healthy and sincere relationship.
[grant] and the fact that you’re worried about any of this means you’re going to do a good job. shitty parents and shitty partners don’t ask if what they’re doing or about to do is wrong.
[grant] everyone is going to make mistakes sometimes but it’s about getting most of it right, and i believe you will. soobin doesn’t hold it over your head that for a while, your fear made you a little controlling. you improved and she forgave you. you’re smart, you’ll adapt, and most of all, you should know you’re loyal. at the end of the day, a parent who puts their kids first and never turns their back on them is the best parent in the world in my eyes.
[grant] mistakes can be forgiven if you put your kids first and treat them like a human being who matters.
[henry] thank you. i appreciate it. that means a lot coming from you.
[grant] and i understand your main fear in the first place. i've thought about it many times. i never worried about myself dying but others dying. elizabeth, uh...yeah. those big family losses seriously will ruin you forever in one way or another. the way you lost your father only makes it worse. it does strip away any feeling of invincibility you have.
[henry] you can say that again.
[henry] i'm glad someone understands.
[grant] you can never really know, i guess, what’s going to happen to you or to anyone you know, and it’s not helpful to say it’ll be fine because we all know crazy and terrible things happen. it's unfortunately mathematically true. but trust me, i'll kill you if you die!
[henry] you’ll kill me if i die? haha.
[henry] thanks for making me laugh, too.
[grant] yep. i will re-kill your ghost.
[henry] i'll kill you if you die.
[grant] thank you, buddy! you’re a real one.
[henry] dude, ugh, i googled life insurance policies a month ago. ew, adulthood.
[grant] life insurance is a good thing to have, though.
[henry] it is, it is. even if my hypothetical kids just buy a fucking pool with the money.
[grant] i mean, if it benefits them, right?
[henry] let me add a note to the policy saying you can either get an in-ground pool put in or free college tuition–one or the other.
[grant] does that include getting a sick ass waterfall feature installed on the pool or no?
[henry] by the way–
[henry] disclaimer that this is just an idea, not concrete at all, but soobin and i briefly mentioned moving back to korea as a way to make sure our kids have a good life.
[grant] wow, really? it is worth thinking about! it is rational. most of your family is here and all of soobin’s family does live here, and you do have to consider what’s best for you and your family, current and future. before i did move back home, when i was with you know who, i thought about this, too, if we ever had kids that maybe we could or should move back to michigan so they'd have my whole family around.
[grant] and just so it’s on the record, you have my full support in any decision here.
[grant] are you interested in moving back?
[henry] i don’t know. i haven’t lived here since i was five years old. i've only visited, and then came back for one year to do the military service because i was wary of giving up my citizenship. but i almost did because truly, i did not want to go into the army. that shit sucked.
[grant] what does soobin think?
[henry] well, it was her idea. i'm very whatever about wherever i live. i feel no strong pull one way or another at the moment. but it’s different for her.
[henry] she lived here much longer than me. she cares much more and has a preference. i mean, she spent pretty much her entire life here except since college and during the school semesters between sixth and twelfth grades because her parents sent her to a fancy private school there.
[henry] i will say, soobin’s main point isn’t wrong, and it's the one you brought up. most of our family is here. it’s like you and michigan. that’s where your folks are. and that support is invaluable when you have kids, both for their social development and for financial reasons. plus, my mom actually wants to move back. she never talks about it, but i know she does.
[grant] i get that, too.
[henry] like i said, she’s just never been the same since my dad died. which i don't fault her for. she does her best to be happy, you know, but i think she feels very alone, even more now that i don’t live on the upper peninsula anymore. she was with him forever. they were soulmates. and her life drastically changed after he died.
[henry] this has been the first time she's had a job since, god, the 1980s. she loves being an art teacher for school kids, but that's a huge change in addition to the sudden loneliness.
[henry] and on the loneliness side, she has your family and they've been close for a long time.
[grant] she was literally over at my aunt bridie's house the other day making shampoo with her.
[henry] yeah, so she sees them pretty often and she also has her book club and some other friends, but she knows way more people here. seoul's where all her family and friends are.
[henry] i want my mom to be happy, you know? it’s my job as her son, and i'm the only child she ever had. she doesn’t need me to look after her every day, not really, but i want to and she deserves that. and truth be told, a part of me believes that if she comes back, i would feel not very good about being away from her.
[henry] i think that if i encourage her to come back or talk to her about it and she does go through with it, that would sway me more to soobin’s side. again, i want my mom to be happy, and i'm also scared of losing her. it doesn’t matter if it’s sudden or slow. i don’t want to lose her, and especially not if i feel like i've spent my whole adult life away from her, not prioritizing what time is left with her.
[henry] not to be morbid, but she’s almost 60. at some point you do ask yourself how much longer you have left with your older family members around. life is unfortunately very short.
[grant] of course. that’s totally understandable. she's a great mother, and you wouldn't want to miss out on that. and i'm sure you don’t want your kids to not have their grandma present in their lives.
[henry] but then i have to start over with my job and maybe i lose contact with my friends if i leave. i do have friends here–sorry, they weren’t able to come hang out this time, maybe next time–but my real two best friends are in michigan. it’s you and ben. i don't let anyone else get that close to me except for soobin because to me, my best friend slots are full. i don't want anyone else. no one else is worth it.
[henry] and i always said you’d be my kids’ godfather. i don’t want them to miss out on knowing you the way they should.
[grant] there’s facetime! and i'd come visit. and i'm so goddamn annoying, i will be texting you about everything i think about in the world for the rest of our lives. you're not going to lose me.
[henry] i try my best to believe i won't lose you.
[grant] also, don’t stress out too much about this yet. you do not have to make any of these decisions now, and when you do need to, the right answers will come to you.
[grant] and listen, one last thing and then i'll shut up. i don’t know how, i don’t know why–i don’t think there is an answer to this–but the people we lose are still with us, even if only in spirit. i am famously a skeptic, but i felt something this year that changed my mind. i know you miss your dad but he’s still with you. somehow he’ll see your kids grow up, and he’ll be there guiding you to make the right decisions.
[grant] your dad loved you, like, beyond what words can express. he loved your mom just as much. he would never willingly leave you. if there's something after this mortal existence, he's still with you.
[grant] oh, and we should probably eat this pizza before it's frigid.
[henry] fuck, i forgot about it. thanks for reminding me. yeah, let's demolish this pizza, and then i'll take you to that cool arcade i told you about. we'll make up for the awful arcade experience at your cousin's bachelor party.
#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#sims 4 story#sims 4 storytelling#simblr#hlcn: everything the stars promised#PARALLELS I LOVE PARELLELS *stares at the aoife subplot that we started in the last batch update*#also not me writing in the fact that this is a deco pizza and i can't show them eating it#well maybe with poses but y'all know i hate posing sims no really just posing them in the chairs without accessories was enough#also just bc the scene was a long time ago...#when grant says something changed his mind he's talking about his sister's birthday and visiting her grave - that scene#holocene.png#holocene.docx#hlcn: grant#hlcn: henry
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What Books To Read at Each Stage of Writing Your Novel
Have you ever wondered what books to read while writing your novel? In this article, Ph.D. and NaNo writer Ursula Saqui offers books to read at every stage of your novel.
With all the craft books available, you might ask yourself, "Should I save a cat, outline using the snowflake method, or take advice from Stephen King?"
The question is also what book to read when. For example, read about subplots when you start writing, and you might get so overwhelmed that you stop altogether. Or, if you draft your story without knowing genre expectations, you'll have to make significant revisions later.
The following are a few of my favorite books and where they best fit into the writing process.
Before you start writing
The books you read before writing should deconstruct common myths (e.g., suffering is necessary for good writing) that could distract you while also getting you into an optimistic (yet realistic) mindset about the work ahead.
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert is the answer to gut-punching questions like "Who am I to be writing this?" that arise in the gap between having an idea and getting it onto paper. Gilbert offers advice on serious topics such as courage, permission, and persistence while playing the role of your adventurous friend tugging at your sleeve, saying, "Let's go. It will be fun." You will finish this book with a plan to handle fear, rejections, and slumps.
Next, Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird will help you get your pen ready with chapters about the necessity of writing "Shitty First Drafts" and how to focus on writing what you care about ("The Moral Point of View"). By taking Lamott's advice, you will get your intuition back and start trusting yourself even on the first draft.
While you are writing
Now you have confidence, strategies for dealing with roadblocks, and some words written. But, whether you are a pantser or a plotter, you will get stuck and need to fix gaps and edit.
If you want a clear explanation of terms such as "plot point" and "inciting incident," the mechanics of story arcs, and an easy structure for writing scenes, then James Scott Bell's Plot & Structure is the best reference. With 14 chapters on technique, writing exercises, and a checklist of critical points, this book offers advice that you can immediately implement and improve your writing.
Matt Bell's Refuse to be Done also offers concrete advice about things such as creating characters and reusing settings in Section One. However, the biggest benefits come in Sections Two and Three. Section Two guides your first draft to a structurally sound second draft through re-outlining and rewriting. Section Three takes your second draft through multiple editing passes to get you to a final draft that is agent-ready.
After you are done writing
When your book is nearly ready for publication, Courtney Maum's Before and After the Book Deal will be a must-read. She answers such practical questions as how authors get paid and how to survive book tours and trickier ones such as how to handle resentment when other authors don't write a blurb for your book and what to do when you hate your book cover.
Finally, whether or not you end up with a book deal, The Way of the Writer by Charles Johnson will be an excellent read after you finish your novel. It takes you out of the frenzy and reminds you about the fundamentals: the call to write, devotion to the craft, and the pleasure of words. His longevity as a writer and teacher is inspiring and reminds us that we are writers beyond any one work, published or not, as long as we keep putting words to the page.
Ursula Saqui, Ph.D., is a consultant and researcher by day and creative writer by night with works in The Daily Drunk and Multiplicity Magazine. Her current novel in progress is a thriller, The Mancari Murders, which she started during NaNoWriMo 2021. When she is not drinking tea, writing, or hiking, she is shooing any one of their four cats off her desk. You can find her on Twitter at @UrsulaSaqui.
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🚩 🚩🚩TEA. SPILL. NOW.
send me a 🚩 and i'll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes. || accepting
oof ya'll we are in for it now. it's time... for puffin's hot take on softblocking. because yes I am and always will be salty about this shit, come fucking fight me and my anxiety-ridden existence.
firstly. I softblock inactive and archived blogs. I think that's chill. but I also always say I'm doing that, so in the event I accidentally softblock someone I didn't mean to and they check my blog like ??? they'll see that post and be like ah okay, it was a mistake.
now. for the love of fuck, why do people say they softblock when unfollowing folks in their rules but also state they do not want to be contacted if they unfollow you ? this is why I have anxiety. like, if you're gonna get offended every time someone messages you to make sure it wasn't an accident or glitch just block people.
and yeah, that is probably where 90% of my anxiety comes from, and why I struggle to reach out to people. because me, popping into someones DMs to make sure it wasn't a mistake gave them the ick and they decide to vague about me or block me anyway. grow the fuck up. and stop assuming the worst about people !
because you know what ? your self-righteous "ew don't talk to me after cutting you off" like tumblr isn't a glitching hellsite / mobile tumblr isn't an accidental thumb-swish away from deleting your blog is not friendly to your neurodivergent followers who struggle to understand situations and approach people.
because being disgusted by someone's genuine concern is shitty. if I come to you like, hey... it's because I noticed, and it mattered to me, and I managed to overcome the anxiety telling me everyone secretly hates me. you being rude about it isn't sexy, and it isn't cool. like, good for you. you're no longer being haunted by my lame ass.
listen. I understand that anxiety exists, obviously. but if that whole situation up top gives you anxiety then you should just block people. and also, if you are softblocking folks but aren't comfortable with them contacting you about it ??? copypastas bitch. a simple "hey, thanks for reaching out ! I did mean to softblock you, nothing personal, just please don't contact me anymore or follow me." goes a long fucking way, because if they then choose to keep pushing it ? you've set your boundaries, they're the asshole now, not you.
because the sentiment I see a lot is "I don't owe you an explanation" and I agree with that 10,000% !! do not come to me asking about why I blocked you or your friend or whatever else, I will not tell you, I do not have to tell you. but re: the copypasta I provided above ? no reasons, just facts. the only explanation you do owe someone is a clarification of the situation, aka setting your boundaries. no one needs to know why those boundaries are being set, in fact I fucking applaud you for setting them, but you do need to communicate that those boundaries are there.
SOFTBLOCKING ISNT ENFORCING A CLEAR BOUNDARY. softblocking is a petty ass way to rid yourself of someone. the metaphor I often see used is its the equivalent of scooping up a spider in your house on a piece of paper and putting it outside. I don't know about ya'll, but when I'm removing a critter from my home that I do not want in it I am actively talking to it and explaining the situation, even if it doesn't understand me, because I want it to know I mean it no harm and please don't come back. guys, no fucking joke, I wished a wasp a merry fucking christmas when I had to remove it from my house because I felt so bad my cat had been torturing it. wasps probably don't celebrate christmas !
point being, I communicate my boundaries to the spiders I'm taking out of my house like they're going to respect them. ya'll should do the fucking same. grow up. we all have anxiety. we all struggle to understand and accept certain social environments and interactions, especially online. we're all doing our best.
don't be a fucking asshole if you softblock someone and they want to make sure it was purposeful. in fact, don't be an asshole to anyone. there is no valid reason to be an asshole to anyone in the rpc, jfc.
also yes, if you softblock me I will block you, because I do not have the mental endurance to deal with the "they hate me" monologue spiraling through my silly little brain. because too many times I have experienced scorn and disgust and hate at being reached out to about softblocking and that has cemented in my brain, more than the anxiety it was a mistake. like just fucking block me, then.
so like. either don't softblock folks or grow up and communicate your boundaries, idk. and don't be an asshole, as previously stated.
this probably doesn't make any sense and has errors in logic / rationale but it's my anxious, frustrated ramblings so fuck it
final thoughts: please don't softblock me ! thanks
#《 ° inbox 》 we just got a letter ! i wonder who its from ?#《 ° selkie.exe 》 oh im trash just not approved trash#magicveiled#long post //#long post cw#venting cw#venting //#° ask to tag !#rant cw#ranting //
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Time to start a series of EW effortposts, i guess.
Note that I got sick (AGAIN) and had pretty bad weather-based connectivity issues since i took the earliest of these screenshots, so my memory will be pretty shoddy.
Anyway, postin'.
I've already hollered about the twins' shitty dad so I won't reprise that, instead skipping forward to when you pick who visits you. I've been too busy moving MSQ forward to re-check everything, but given my faves it's probably not shocking that i chose...
Estinien.
I didn't get most of his little speech, but he just wanted to express support and a desire to protect in his cute, awkward way.
Also, jfc if a character as pale as Shayun is nearly invisible due to the cutscene lighting, anyone with darker skin is just going to be a shadowy blob.
Anyway, Estinien flees.
Out the window. You know, as you do.
Also if I hadn't established that Shayun and Estinien are just utterly incompatible this cutscene would have had me making jokes, but no it's just more autism to autism communication.
There's a couple cutscenes I didn't grab establishing both what people are thinking about the Garlean prisoners as well as setting up ominous shadow effects on people.
Which Erenville seems to be able to sense? Not sure if it's a nod to how Viera are typically very magically sensitive in other FFs or just Erenville being sensitive to changes in his environment, since the former hasn't really been established in 14.
Anyway!
So Thavnair has a mild case of the Armageddons (as in, the weather is literally "Apocalypse")! I'm sure it's fine, says the dog sitting in a burning house.
The dungeon wasn't anything special, but the final boss is incredibly fucking rude to the photosensitive--one of its attacks causes the whole screen to pulse red or blue as the tell, and it's really bad to look at. Not quite Paradigm's Breach tier, but at least on the level of World of Darkness. Very nasty.
I still murdered the fuck out of it, of course.
Ahewann trying to convince Vrtra that his fears are unfounded and revealing himself as the true leader of Thavnair would only help.
I can't remember the lead-up to this, but Estinien refuses to let a troubled member of the First Brood pass by without getting into position for Dragon Therapy.
I think investigation into why people were transforming into monsters happens after this? Which, uh, leads me to a major issue I had.
So. Ahewann's death.
Besides being another victim of the two-for-one deal that is Endwalker (if we'd had an expansion+patches to come to know and care deeply for him, his death would have hit MUCH harder--as it is it feels like he jobbed), it's also just really badly blocked out. The last time the WoL has a case of the Glueboots this severe is when Asahi is beating the shit out of Yotsuyu, and it feels just as bad now as it did then. If they didn't want to have the WoL have to pause and attack bc of job reasons (tbf the correct distance for one job to feel right is different from another, so i don't blame them), they at least should have put them further back.
It's just way too obvious that Ahewann died entirely due to authorial decree. It doesn't feel like a natural outgrowth of the events of the cutscene. Given how little time we've had with Ahewann, it also feels like a cheap move for free emotions!
I do not like Ahewann's death.
Oh yeah, and afterward catboy proves that he is also the Crystal Exarch so anyone who thinks i should chill over things the Exarch did can shut it, the game itself says they're the same person now.
Final WoLshot for this post, bc the next post is a behemoth and will need every last bit of image space I can give
that's right it's time for
DRAGON THERAPY WITH DR ESTINIEN (vrtra edition)
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Ch 09 | I Went to College and All I Got Was This Lousy Degree
I'm alive, bitches ♥
new chapter of my fic is up on Ao3 - click this link to view there.
chappie under the cut
As per usual, Rally’s burgers are kind of shitty, but their French fries save the entire meal. Hange makes sure to get a shake to dip her fries in – an act that makes Levi frown in disgust at first, but once he tried it, he ended up going back in to grab a second milkshake for himself.
“Favorite music,” He asks her as she flips through the channels on the radio.
“Not this shit,” she announces, changing the setting to Bluetooth. “Oh, this is better.”
“You listen to The Strokes?” He asks, popping a fry in his mouth. “A woman of culture, I see.”
“A little bit of The Strokes. A little bit of metal. Reggae, sometimes. I just find a song I like and then shuffle my entire Spotify library most days,” Hange admits. “Yours?”
He looks embarrassed for a second. “It’s either classical orchestral type stuff, or emo. I’m a really big fan of My Chemical Romance.”
“No shit,” Hange laughs. “I wouldn’t have placed you as a black guyliner type of guy.”
“Well, the band’s been dead for awhile now, so no guyliner for me. Their early stuff is pretty gothic though, and it’s got some harder feeling music than their later albums. But they still hit,” Levi explains. “Oh, speaking of goth though – remember that ranch party? Same guy’s hosting a Halloween party. You can bring your friend too, if you want.”
“That’s in like,” she frowns. “A couple days. Is it with costumes and stuff or does it matter?”
He snorts. “You won’t catch me dead in a costume.”
“Alright, I’ll run it by Nanaba, then. Though I’m sure she’ll want to go – she’s always loved that dude’s parties. I’ll see you there?”
He hesitates. “Probably.”
She glances at him, crumpling up the empty carton of fries between her hands. “What, you’re going to invite me but not actually go?”
He plays with his drink straw in his hands absentmindedly. “Listen, the guys from the team already give me enough shit that you’re tutoring me. I don’t wanna give them any ammo against me for going to a party with the – shit, you’ll probably be valedictorian or something. They’ll make it into something it’s not, you know?”
Hange sighs. “I thought you were the type who didn’t really give a shit about his image.”
“No, I’m not, but the guys from the team are different. They’re like brothers to me.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll just find a way to,” she raises her fingers in mock quotation marks. “Accidentally run into you.”
“Works for me. You wanna head back?”
Hange cranks her seat back into a driveable position and re-clips her seatbelt. “Yeah, I should probably be going. I’m driving Nanaba home today.”
------
“You got Rally’s without me!” Is the first thing that comes out of Nanaba’s mouth when she enters the car. She throws her backpack into the back seat and gets in, adjusting the passenger seat out of it’s laid-back position. “And you guys actually hung out!”
Hange laughs, turning the A/C up a notch. “Sorry, we’ll get some fries later. It just felt appropriate.”
Nanaba continues rooting around the car, coming up with a speck of green on her finger from the carpet. “And you guys smoked without me?!”
“Correction – he smoked, I just watched.”
“Good,” Nanaba smirks. “He can’t take your weed virginity – only I can.”
“I told you,” Hange sighs, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the school parking lot. “I don’t even want to try it. Like, I get it, but it’s just not something I want to try.”
Her friend pushes her silver hair behind her ear and fiddles with something on her phone. “I know, Hange. I’m just giving you shit. But really, tell me about him – he’s so quiet and… stoic,” she pauses to consider her verbiage before continuing, “and to learn he smokes… there’s more to him than I thought!”
“Well,” Hange starts, flicking her blinker on at a light. “He likes a lot of the same music as me, and he’s super into his baseball thing. He’s only got his dad around, so he’s trying really hard in school to impress him. He wants to play for the Red Sox so that they don’t ever have to worry about money and stuff ever again.”
“Sounds noble,” Nanaba snorts. “You two actually sound like you’re pretty similar.”
The light finally changes and Hange merges onto the highway, even though they get off in two exits. She sticks to the right lane just in case, not trusting herself to merge any further on lest she miss the exit. “Kinda. Our stories sound the same, but we’re pretty different.”
“Do you think he’s cute?” Nanaba has fully stopped looking at her phone and is trying to catch Hange’s eyes in spite of their mobility.
Is he cute? The thought hadn’t occurred to Hange yet, but now that she was asked, of course it was in her mind. I mean, he’s short, but it’s endearing. And very clean cut. Strong, too…
“Exit, Hange,” Nanaba reminds her. She nearly misses it and earns a honk from another car, but they make it off.
“He is cute,” Hange says cautiously. “But I haven’t really thought about it, you know? I was too busy talking to him.” Her best friend is grinning wide, and Hange knows better than to egg her on. “But hey, I dunno. I’d have to hang out with him more to really notice anything.”
“I thought the keg stand was cute, in a weird way,” Nanaba hazards.
“Oh!” She was grateful for the comment, as it allowed a segue away from the topic at hand. “He invited us to a Halloween party out at that ranch later this week. Doesn’t matter about costumes, I think.”
“Is Levi going to be there?” Nanaba teases.
She sighs. “Yeah, but… we’re not going with him. He’s being weird about us. He doesn’t want his baseball friends to know we’re friends ‘cause I guess they’ll like… speculate about it, I think.”
“So he wants to be friends in private, but not in public? What an asshole,” Nanaba throws herself back against the seat. “Like, I get it, but it’s really not that deep.”
Hange pulled up next to the curb of Nanaba’s house, putting the car into park. “I dunno. I’m trying not to think of it one way or another.”
They’re quiet for a moment before Nanaba speaks up. “You said that rich kid’s ranch house, right? Damn, I wonder if those kid’s parents are ever in town.”
“Do you even know who he is?” Hange laughs.
“Do you?”
“Fuck no!”
The girls cackled into the setting sun.
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Reflection on Cpt 23: Gunslinger’s Glory, part 1
So I decided it might be fun to reflect on some of these fanfiction stories I’ve been posting over on fanfiction.net, chapter by chapter. Spoilers, by the way, if you haven’t read this one yet.
Fave Quote
Today, let’s pull up my favorite quote from The Embarrassing Story of How I Became a Blood Knight, Cpt 23. This is a hard one. I’m torn between when Britecleff refused to give Sunthraze any of his expensive brandy, saying “I can handle shitty situations, but obviously you can’t.” Which was… so short-sighted of him, I just smacked my forehead. I do love Britecleff by the way. I adore him greatly. Him and his super-expensive, exotic hair cuts. But then, Sunthraze did a good job of pointing out to Britecleff that he wasn’t the one who wrongfully arrested someone. (Britecleff wrongfully arrested Sunthraze, that is.)
But I think for my favorite quote of Chapter 23, I’m going to go with this one:
“Aha! So you admit you’re a coward.”
Pyorin blinked rapidly as he defended himself, “I admit that I didn’t want Prince Arthas Menethil to commit a war crime on my person because I’m whispering really loudly to a palace guard about his big ass, lord-of-the-dead-goat-skull-gun—Well, yes I am!”
Pyorin freaked out over Tempest calling him a coward, because he refused to give everyone a heads up that Arthas arrived at the Sunspire for the royal shooting party with a friggin Frostmourne version of a rifle? I mean?
That kind of scared me actually, after I was done describing Arthas’ gun. It did seem pretty damn terrible. Imagine if they added a Frostmourne-gun to the game? Oy. Not to even talk about all the people fighting to farm that damned thing. Who gets to equip that, Hunters? Death Knights complaining on the forums that they should? And Warriors and Rogues can still equip guns too, right? And there’s Paladins. Anyway…
Hope you guys didn’t come here for deep literary analysis, btw.
Process
I break the fourth wall all the time, whether I’m writing fanfiction or writing Warcraft song parodies that I perform in-game. (Anyone here not heard that I do that yet? It’s pretty damned funny, lol. I’ll re-blog a poster if I do it again.) Um, but it just leads me into the next cool thing I wanted to share about Chapter 23. You’ve probably noticed the Easter eggs. I guess I could call them Easter eggs? There are a few references at least to Arthas invading and laying waste to Silvermoon City. Honestly, I was cackling when I first did it and started sprinkling some more in there. Tempest saying no one would ever let Arthas commit a crime inside of Silvermoon City? Tragically sad if you think of what happened in the lore, that Arthas pretty much nearly destroyed Quel’thalas. And then I already mentioned Pyorin being afraid that Arthas would commit ‘a warcrime on his person.’
Oh my god. I just.
Well, other than laughing really hard every time I lowkey did that, I really enjoyed getting back to this fanfic. Finally. Whee! I admit that pieces of this chapter had been sitting around for… maybe a year? Longer? I got stuck on trying to finish The Romancer Turaho for a really long time and, honestly, I decided to pause that story and finish at least this fanfiction-in-progress that I’ve got going. It was satisfying for me to make sure that the original My Life For My Prince stories got finished when I first started making fanfiction years ago, so I want to continue with that standard. Plus The Embarassing Story of How I Became a Blood Knight is insanely fun because I like being able to play with the OG cast & crew and put them in various ‘when I was in my twenties hanging out in Silvermoon’ situations. Mainly I went with this story as the next in the series because I couldn’t resist the chance to do that for the original Blood Knights Fennore, Pyorin, Sunthraze and Saturna, as well as the two ladies Tempest and Daphne in a prequel.
Next Up
And, I have finally, FINALLY reached the point where I can set up some extremely good Kael’thas versus Arthas drama. I already have some lines that I jotted down on precious scraps of paper—Kael’thas reversing horrible things Arthas said to him in the game/stories, Jaina bringing up Stratholme again, ho boy. I was screaming laughter today messing around with those scenes. I hope you guys enjoy it.
But for the very next chapter, look forward to seeing the actual, factual shooting contest between the most unlikely players in the Warcraft Silvermoon canon and some of these non-canon characters I made up. King Anasterian versus Arthas, versus Britecleff, versus… It’s mostly written but I’m starting to think now of other characters I had better put in there. So, since I have to re-work what I already have? Maybe I might do that? It could take me a while to get the next chapter up. But know that it’s gonna be funny and dramatic.
And of course, what the heck is going to happen when Kael’thas finally shows up to the scene, guns blazing all around him? Or, is Kael’thas too clever for all of that? Perhaps he’s outsmarted everyone. Hell, he’s outsmarted me so far. I’m not totally sure what Kael’thas is going to do yet. I want him to do something that I wouldn’t think of right away, something super-slick to deal with this horrible social situation where Arthas is staying over in his castle, right in his home. We’ll have to see.
Well, that’s all I have for now. This was fun to do, reflect a bit on the process and how much fun I had putting this chapter together. Hope ya’ll are having fun reading!
P.S.
Oh and the chapter title Gunslinger’s Glory was me trying to think of something fun related to a shooting tournament… guns… cowboys? Epic western movie aesthetic? The Dead South!
You have to listen to this, it’s incredible. And, it’s great music to vibe to if you’re writing a fantasy story with big, big moral darks and lights, high drama, tragedy. I might even do that for the next chapter. Weirdly, right now it’s Doja Cat if you can believe it?
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all is calm, all is bright
(come on, did y'all really think I would be ending ficmas so early? I had to do one more)
prompt by @impishtubist i saw and had to do it re: when full moons land on Christmas Eve/Christmas and everything looks a little different.
"We talked about it," Sirius explained, his chin resting on Harry's head as he spoke, "And I said we could open gift's without Moony today and tell you all about them, or we could wait until tomorrow when you're feeling better and--"
"Tomorrow!" Harry confirmed in a sing-song voice, "Best!"
Remus blinked slowly, "You...wanted to wait?"
--
"I'm sorry," Remus whispered into the side of Sirius' face sleepily, having spent the duration of the day before Christmas Eve in bed with the curtains closed. A pounding headache, intermittent shivers. He always thought when you got bit by a werewolf they should've given you a pamphlet called this is your life now- get used to it! and that the pamphlet should have an entire section on how shitty the days just before the full moon would make you feel, especially with aging. In his 20's and Remus was turned into an 80-year old before he was turned into a beast and on days like this--where his headache kept him from playing with his toddler; where he couldn't get out of bed to help his partner--, the 80-year-old was decidedly worse.
"Shh," Sirius said, gently pushing back Remus' hair, slightly damp from a day worth of fevers breaking and reviving in a vicious cycle. "It's fine, my love. Don't think on it.
"I left you all alone today, all day," Remus mumbled, "With a three-year-old. And tomorrow won't be better...neither will Christmas... I suppose it had to happen eventually, I just...he's still so little."
"He is...which means there are so many other non-exhausted, recovering Christmas' you get with him," Sirius spoke softly, kissing Remus on each of his eyelids that were closed, his hand still stroking his hair, "He's the best kid. He's all set to be with the Weasleys tomorrow so I can stay with you, pick him up early Christmas morning..."
"I don't know how anyone else in this life survives without someone like you," Remus placed a weak kiss on Sirius' wrist, not having the energy to do anything else, his lips landing clumsily, "Just promise me Christmas won't be ruined. Okay? You can get up and open presents and all the stuff he loves to do. I won't be upset if he's loud or...just Christmas isn't ruined."
"Christmas isn't ruined," Sirius repeated back to him, in a way that sounded reassuring. But Sirius wasn't reassuring Remus' wish. He was reassuring Remus that no matter what he wasn't a burden. He wasn't going to ruin a holiday or a marriage. Everything wouldn't be lost. "I love you."
--
Christmas Day 1983
Remus didn't remember returning to Number 12, transformations now taking place outside in the Blacks backyard. Even with wolfsbane, he found it easier to be outside to avoid any accident. Remus also didn't remember getting into bed, but that was where he woke up under a mountain of blankets, the curtains in their bedroom completely closed, only a sliver of light peaking through, his stomach rumbling. He had woken up three hours ago at Sirius' insistence, his husband fussing over some wounds on his arm and making sure he took his healing potions, even if Remus was rude and told him to bugger off. Transforming for years and Remus still liked to forget that waking up to take a pain reliever before actually waking up helped him feel loads better. He stretched slowly, moving his fingers one by one, and then his wrists, taking note of what parts of his body pinched a little extra and what muscles he was going to put under the hot shower spray if he ever made it there.
He sat up slowly, reaching for his wand to send a Patronus down for Sirius to let him know he was awake--at 2 in the afternoon, finally. He took a sip of water from the glass Sirius had left out for him, swallowing at the cool liquid on an empty stomach that immediately sent a shiver up his body as he could feel it slide all the way down his esophagus. He could've fallen back asleep, sitting up taking enough effort, but he needed to eat and he wanted to see his kid. And his husband. He wanted Sirius to be there and hold him, but he knew Harry was the priority and he wasn't going to ruin Christmas by being selfish. Even if Sirius' body heat was better than all the blankets combined. Even if this was the one time every month Remus just wanted Sirius to never let go, even if he would never admit it. He reclined his head so it was resting on his headboard, and closed his eyes, determined not to fall asleep again, exhaustion coming in waves.
"Okay, remember to be very quiet, okay?" came Sirius' voice in a hushed whisper.
"Otay, but what 'bout Christmas hugs? S'important," Harry's voice followed, much louder, a toddler's version of quiet very different than Sirius'.
"Gentle, yeah?" Sirius said back and Remus could hear the handle of the door turning. Remus lifted his head up in anticipation, a smile already threatening to break through the tired.
"So soft, promise," Harry said just before the door opened completely, revealing Harry and Sirius in matching Christmas sweaters--red as Harry had picked out, with snowflakes on them. "Moony, hi," Harry whispered loudly, breaking away from Sirius who was holding a tea tray, a second one hovering behind him in the hall with actual tea on it. "Feel better? Moony got ouch?"
"Yeah, but...I'm feeling better. Just sleepy." Remus offered a tired smile to Harry who was standing at his bedside, reaching a hand out to his three-year-old's shock of black hair and running his fingers over it.
"We have Christmas panclocks," Harry told him, grabbing Remus' hand that had touched his hair, "I told Padfoo it was Cookie Day but he said no."
"I believe I said that Moony needs to eat actual food before having a cookie today, and have some tea...I am not going to deprive you of cookies." Sirius put the tea tray on the bed, after levitating over a towel from the linen closet, before reaching over to press a hand to Remus' forehead, "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been starved my entire life."
"Sounds right," Sirius smiled, and leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth, "Happy Christmas, baby."
"Padfoo, up?" asked Harry and Sirius bent down to pick Harry up, placing him next to Remus in bed behind the tea tray.
"Pancakes, sausage, lemongrass tea for you because it's an--"
"Anti-inflammatory," nodded Remus"I know. Thank you," he reached his hand up, while Sirius was still crouched over, palming the back of his head just as he had to Harry's. Sirius understood the gesture, leaning forward to kiss him again. "Love you," Remus said into his mouth and all exhaustion seemed to vanish the moment he felt Sirius smile into it.
"Padfoo, no kisses!"
"More kisses? What?" asked Sirius, "All the kisses?" Sirius moved quickly to the other side of the bed, crawling onto it to take Harry into his arms, showering his godson with kisses, and tickles, the little boy squealing and giggling, asking for more when Sirius had the audacity to stop. Remus picked up the fork that was left on the tray, sitting up straighter, all previous tiredness cured by the smell of breakfast and his toddler, now in Sirius' lap, pointing out the different colors of sprinkles he added inside the pancake batter.
"It's green."
"What else?"
"And red. And white."
"Very good," Remus put a bite into his mouth, sighing around the warm and fluffy pancake. Harry continued to talk while he ate, letting Remus know the types of cookies they had made, and about his night at the Weasleys, all in the same loud whisper, in their bedroom, which now had slightly more light from curtains Sirius had opened just enough. Remus listened, giving Sirius appreciative glances over messy hair, everything his partner cooked was perfection. Even the small vial of pain potion that Remus saved for last.
"You haven't even told me what Father Christmas brought you, Harry."
"Dunno, we're waiting."
"For what?"
"You."
"We talked about it," Sirius explained, his chin resting on Harry's head as he spoke, "And I said we could open gift's without Moony today and tell you all about them, or we could wait until tomorrow when you're feeling better and--"
"Tomorrow!" Harry confirmed in a sing-song voice, "Best!"
Remus blinked slowly, "You...wanted to wait?"
"'t's good with Moony," Harry said again, crawling out of Sirius' lap, a tiny hand coming up to Remus' cheek, brushing it lightly, "Presents for you."
"We did open one so we could have sweaters but..." Sirius shrugged, "It was unanimous. Everything's better with you."
"Cookies."
"Kid's got his priorities," teased Sirius
"So...what's the plan for today then?"
"This," Sirius told him. "And...dinner in bed too."
Remus let out a soft laugh, at Sirius' slightly pained expression. Full moons were the one exception, the one occasion that usurped Sirius' rules on where food should be eaten, but even when Remus had been worse off, the most dinner that had happened in their bed was a bowl of soup. Remus very much doubted tonight would be exclusively soup though. Perhaps Christmas was the exception for everything, Sirius forever going above and beyond to make it special for both his boys. Sirius cleared away the food tray, now empty, and reached over to hand Remus his cup of tea. Harry had grabbed one of the blankets on the bed and pulled it up over his legs, putting part of it onto Remus and patting it gently.
"'So soft, so soft. 'S cold."
"Come on, Iove, let's let Moony get some more sleep, we'll see him--"
Remus shook his head, "Stay."
"You sure?" Sirius asked and Remus nodded, The only other things than wanting Sirius and Harry to stay had been when he had married Sirius and agreed to raise Harry without hesitation alongside him. They were the only sure things.
Remus didn't remember falling asleep the second time either, but he knew it was shortly after he had told them both to stay. He vaguely recalled Sirius taking the tea out of his hands so it wouldn't spill and burn his skin. But when he woke up about an hour and a half later, Harry was still there, burrowed under the covers with him, and face resting on his arm. Sirius was in bed as well, though wide awake, his legs stretched out in front of him and a book in his hand.
"Hey," he said when he noticed Remus stir, careful not to wake up Harry, "He insisted he nap with you today, and I quote, 'Moony cuddles are the best.'"
--
Christmas Day 1997
Remus woke up with swollen eyes and an ache in his hip that wasn't there a week ago, and his husband's hand on his shoulder. He ran a hand gingerly over the spot, still staying underneath the blankets, feeling a small bruised, but mostly muscle pains, not paying any attention to Sirius, "Go away."
"You'll feel better in a few hours, you always do," Sirius said just above a whisper, a warm hand coming to the side of Remus' face. Remus leaned into the touch, "Come on, love."
"Let me complain about it..." Remus attempted to say in a tone that was positively bratty, but it came out as one that was scratchy and dry. A hoarse whisper. Sirius kissed him on the forehead as he opened his eyes despite the 20-pound weights on each of his eyelids.
"Happy Christmas."
"Mmm," Remus said uncorking the two vials and downing them separately. He sighed again when Sirius gave him a glass of water, followed by another kiss to the side of his face.
"Love you."
"Love you too," Remus said just before the door opened, their seventeen-year-old strolling through the open door with comically messy hair, his shirt missing and a long fluffy blanket thrown around his shoulders like a cape, some of it trailing on the floor behind him.
"Morning?" asked Sirius, "Are you up?"
"No," Harry mumbled. His glasses hadn't been put on, their teenager bumping into their nightstand before he climbed into their bed, situating himself close to Remus, "Not morning, not up."
Remus knew that Harry had trouble sleeping the night of full moons. He also knew that Christmas Eve had contained a long argument between him and Sirius, about whether or not he should go to the Weasleys when Harry was insistent on staying indoors at Number 12 by himself (an argument that he didn't win and resulted in some choice words and a slamming door). Because Harry was seventeen and apparently that meant he was old enough to do whatever the hell he wanted including being in the same proximity as a werewolf and did not take kindly to being told, Absolutely not and we're done discussing this.
"You okay?" asked Harry, once he had pulled the blanket fully around him, his body making more movement on the bed than it used to, but sometimes Remus looked over and saw him as tiny. Even though he was nearly Remus' height and had the same muscles his Dad had from playing Quidditch. Their bed was still Harry's favorite bed and Remus was glad for it. Glad for the nights that Harry would come into their room and squeeze in between them just to talk. Less glad for nights he did the same because he was missing his parents, or lost in his own scary thoughts--what if you die too?
"I'm okay," Remus told him honestly, no longer having to sugar coat everything for it to make sense and Harry preferred it, "Sore and tired...Okay though."
"Good."
"Pancakes?" Sirius asked.
"Mmm, afternoon food now," Harry responded, his face sideways on the pillow, where his godfather usually slept, having pulled it closer to Remus.
"Mhmm," Remus agreed, taking another sip of water before settling down, his eyes half-closed already and Harry's breathing had relaxed.
"Let me know when you're awake," Sirius said, kissing Remus again, Remus wishing his arm wasn't made of lead and he could put his fingers along Sirius' face to let him know. But it was warm under the blankets. Sirius leaned over Remus' lap to kiss Harry on the side of his head, their teenager groaning in disagreement.
"Quit it--"
"It's Christmas."
"Yes, it's Christmas, I love you, but now it's sleeping time," Harry emphasized, his voice muffled slightly by a pillow case and Remus' right arm, "M'not mad anymore, we can make cookies later."
"I'll be downstairs," Sirius said
"Hey," Harry said louder, with a tone of indignance, sitting up slightly, to look at Sirius, "I said I'm not mad anymore. You're supposed to tell me you love me. That's how this works."
Remus' eyes were closed but he could practically see Sirius' amused smile and Harry's grumpy scowl that Sirius was on the receiving end of more in the mornings than Remus was. He felt a shift in the bed, the unmistakable weight of Sirius leaning over again, and Remus opened one eye just enough to see Sirius kiss Harry again on the top of his head.
"Of course I love you."
"...Pancakes?"
"Yes, love. Later. I heard a rumor they're an afternoon food..." The weight went away, the door closing with a soft click. There was movement again, this time of Harry pulling up more blankets over his body, and the pillow even closer to Remus'. He could feel his teenager's forehead against his arm.
"You don't have to stay with me."
"'M tired, dunno how Sirius just...get's up."
"Me neither."
"You're okay?" Harry asked for the third time. Triple checking. The same way Sirius did, except his godfather, did it with his hands, feeling for fevers, looking for scrapes and bruises, putting out extra blankets.
"Mhmm."
"Still the best..." Harry said after a long silence, both of them falling back asleep in the comfort of a warm bed. Anxiety smoothed over, aches and pains feeling better. Sirius.
"Hm?"
"Love bed Christmas," Harry told him, already drifting back to sleep, inhibitions lowered, his sleepiness not caring whether he told his godfather to love him and need more kisses even; not caring when he told Remus he loved the time they got to snuggle in bed together like they did when he was growing up, making Sirius roll his eyes at cooking crumbs in the sheets, "Not bed Christmas is great too. S'like I get two. Who else is so lucky they get two Christmas's?"
Christmas isn't ruined.
Christmas is still the best.
#wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black#harry potter#raising harry#soft christmas drabble#au#ficmas#i told you this is all i'm going to be doing
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Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?
i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;
You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.
Hot. Sticky. But chilled.
You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.
You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .
You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.
It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.
You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.
It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.
Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.
The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.
"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.
"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.
"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.
"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.
"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.
"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.
"Someone's jealous."
"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.
"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.
"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.
Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.
"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.
"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.
"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.
••••
You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.
Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?
Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.
You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.
"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.
"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.
"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.
He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.
Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.
"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.
"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.
"Why?"
"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.
After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.
"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.
"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.
"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.
“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.
Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.
"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.
"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.
You hated how he was right.
It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.
"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.
•••••
It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.
All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.
The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.
You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.
"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.
"If I do die—"
"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.
"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.
"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"
"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.
"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."
You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.
Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.
“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.
“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.
The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.
"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.
"Unfortunate for you, I guess."
"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.
"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.
"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.
Happily.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#finelinevogue#finelinevogue harry styles#harry blurb#harry oneshot#harry styles concept#ask finelinevogue#ask harry styles#finelinevogue blurbs#finelinevogue masterlist#harry styles fluff#harry styles end of the day#harry styles x ill reader#harry styles x sick reader#harry styles x you
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lurk~toji fushiguro x reader
(part 2 to u&i bully!megumi)
art by sab_xcvii
I am respectfully looking down. down.
had to down a couple of beers to get through this bro—
all characters are of age.
based on the song ‘lurk’ by the neighbourhood
warnings/tw; smut, cheating?, age gap, rough sex, choking, daddy kink, spitting, size kink, slight dumbificantion, degrading, praise kink, nipple play (both receiving)
summary; what happens when you learn more about megumi? and believe it too.
w.c; 6k
you’d been thinking about megumi all weekend. his face and all the events from the prior day swirling inside your head as you pondered them over and over, trying and hoping to find an apology in midst of all the pants shared between you both. of all the words he said to you.
just a simple apology. an apology to ease your heart, an attempt to clear all the things he put you through. all the times he humiliated you, all the times he embarrassed you and made you feel unimportant, unwanted. that’s all your beating heart wanted from him.
yet he never said those two words. not as he kissed you, not as he led you to the backseat of his charger, not as he slid in your mouth, or not as he fucked into you.
your chest filled with anxiety, he used me. curling up in your comforter as you tried to push away your negative thoughts with the soft music playing in your ears.
that was until your phone gave out a ding. picking it up, the light of it filling your dark, depressing room as you read the text with an unknown contact.
‘hey, bunny’ it read.
you squinted your eyes, where had you heard that nickname before? ah yes. the parking lot. the devil himself.
you groaned, locking your phone and wrapping yourself in your warm duvet again. your phone lit up again with the sound of his text. you blinked a few times as you shook your head and unlocked it again.
‘forgot to tell you’ as you read that, you pressed the contact and saved it as “megs </3”
your heart filled with a sense of hope, the little burnt flame igniting within you again, it died down as soon as it had been planted in you as you read the next text,
‘i got your number from one of your friends’
you sigh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you. not fuckin-
you were brought out of your thoughts as another text popped up
‘hello?’
‘y/n?’
‘did that bitch give me the wrong number?’
you wish you could just type out a lie, saying he got the wrong number, and forget that megumi fushiguro ever existed in your life. sure, maybe it was petty of you to hold a grudge against him for not apologizing even after the sensual acts that took place between you both the day prior. however, it was important to you. you needed to know he actually felt guilty those times. you need to know he felt as shitty as you did on the inside. you needed to know he wasn’t just using you. he technically never said that either, just told you to not say it.
nevertheless, you’re typing away before you can stop yourself. you should have.
‘hey ‘gumi’
‘no you got the right number’
you don’t really know what else to say. waiting patiently as the 3 dots start moving, signaling he’s typing.
‘good.’
‘i’ll pick you up in 30. be ready.’
you glance at the time on your phone, 5:30. you had enough time.
‘okay’
‘see ya cutie’
you get out of your bed quickly. taking a quick shower as the warm water helped you relax. you wear some jean shorts and a tank top with a silver necklace hanging lowly on your neck. you do some light makeup, only a little colorless lipgloss and mascara, as you tie your hair up in a ponytail. a few strands coming loose, not really being bothered to re-do it, you head down the stairs and go outside to sit on the porch, waiting for megumi.
in a couple minutes, his black charger comes to a halt infront of your house, you get up, grabbing your phone and your small purse, sliding it around your neck as you make your way to his car.
he leans to the passenger side and opens the door for you, giving you a smirk as you get in, gaze faltering on your jean shorts as he licks his lips. you give him a small smile, “hi.” your voice is soft as you observe him, the smell of rough lavender fills your nose this time instead of the cedarwood and musk, it seems gone now. his raven hair is damp atop his head, signaling he just came out of the shower.
he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, his hair brushing your forhead as he pulls away. a blush creeps on to your cheeks, “hey, beautiful.” he smiles as he fixes his gaze on the road and presses the gas pedal.
he puts his hand on your upper thigh, “how are you?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, “fine.” his gaze stops on you for a second before looking back at the road, “you’re lying.” you sigh, trying to come up with an excuse. how could he tell whenever you’re lying? “I uhm.. I just have a bit of a headache.”
he hummed, “if you say so.” he gave you a smile as he squeezed your thigh. you decided to push all your thoughts away for now and only focus on him. you put your hand on his, “where are we going?” he looked at your hand with a smile, “my house.”
your gaze fixed on him, “why not outside?” he looked over to you, “I lost my phone somewhere at the house.. but if you don’t wanna go there I don’t mind. we could just hang outside.” he said with a shrug.
you thought it over for a few seconds, he was offering you a chance to see his house, where he spent most of his childhood in, so if you got the chance to see more of him, you would be a fool to not take it. you gave a soft squeeze to his hand on your thigh, “no, yeah let’s go to your house.”
he smirked as he made a sharp turn into a street, his knuckles flexing on the wheel. this was pretty far from your house, the houses in the neighborhood were all a fair distance away from eachother, each one looking modern and rather large.
he pulled into the parking way of one of the houses, as you looked up from your window, you could see the house was just as big as the others, glass panes covering one whole side of it instead of walls. the parking garage’s door slid up with a press of megumi’s finger on a remote. he parked the car and you both got out. a sudden feeling of anxiety swimming in your chest as you saw the big black ram next to where megumi had parked, was his dad home?
megumi grabbed your hand in his, holding you close and interlocking your fingers as you both made your way up a small flight of stairs. “my dad’s not home, I think he’s at the neighbors’ house, he’s his friend.” you swallowed, your shoulders relaxing as you nodded.
he let go of your hand as he opened a door that led to the huge living room, mostly black and dark grey furniture everywhere, it was calming in a sense. he twirled around with his arms open infront of you, “as you can see the house’s pretty fuckin huge. I hate it— so I’m not gonna give you a tour or anything. but,” you frowned at his words, fidgeting with your fingers. he moved towards you, smiling, “how about you give yourself a tour as you call my phone and try to find it? please? I need it for this one senior assignment I’m getting today.” you nodded slowly as he flashed you a big grin, kissing your cheek before storming off and yelling, “my sister needs my help with something! I’ll be back!”
with that, he left you alone standing in the large empty living room. you sighed, finding his phone seemed to be pretty important to him. you got your phone out of your purse, starting to dial megumi’s number as you wondered around the house. he didn’t seem fond of this house, it was really big though so you thought family members could easily ignore each other for days. that’s probably what megumi would do.
you dialed his number over and over, looking around the vastly sized kitchen, the dining room, and some other rooms downstairs. megumi had left upstairs so you thought that’s probably where the bedrooms are and he had most definitely looked around in there. so you decided to take the stairs that spiraled down instead. 
as you made your way down the stairs, a faint sound of the bass of music hit your ears. you followed it down the narrow hallway that was filled with empty white vases and fake plants. the music was getting too loud for it to be a ringtone. it led you to a big white door, you opened it as you stepped inside.
you were met with an even bigger looking room than any of the ones you had seen on the main floor, mirrors were covering all its walls, the music loud as it blasted through the soundproof ceiling, there were lots of equipment and machines, oh. it was a gym. was it bigger than the living room and kitchen combined? probably.
you dialed megumi’s number again, walking around the gym, staring at everything with wide eyes. how fucking rich were they? their own personal gym right under their penthouse, you scoffed at the excessive wealth they had, or his dad had.
you heard a light vibration, going towards it as you could see a faint light on the ground next to a towel, right under the mirrors on the wall, you bent over to pick it up, megumi’s phone. finally.
as you stood back up, your eyes set on a huge, tall body in the mirror standing behind you, before you could even look up to see who it is, you screamed and turned around, jumping back against the mirror, closing your eyes as you brought your hands in front of you offensively, as if you could do any damage with them.
you slowly opened your eyes as you heard a deep chuckle, toji fushiguro stood infront of you. tight workout shorts sticking to his legs, bringing out his huge thighs, a black tank top sat upon his chest, a slight wet ring formed around the front of it as his body was covered in sweat, glistening.
his body was beyond huge, making you look so insignificant standing before him. he ran a veiny hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing as he did so, “done staring, pretty thing?” your mouth went dry, as if you weren’t practically drooling seconds before.
you could hear your heartbeat in your own ears, you were about to fucking black out. and you didn’t know why, his presence was so intimidating, the smell of cedarwood and musk filled the aroma around him, making you dizzy. so that was his smell yesterday in the car.
he towered over you, licking slightly at the scar on his lip, “cat’s got your tongue? or has megumi got a deaf plaything this time?” at the mention of your hearing, you tried to focus on the loud song playing instead of your unsteady heartbeat. the song was a forgein rap, turkish maybe? as it blasted through the gym and bounced off the ceiling.
you cleared your throat slightly, not trusting the power of your voice right now, “I uhm.. no.. I was just looking for fushiguro’s phone, and I uh.. found it here.” you waved the phone in front of your face, trying to show him.
he raises a brow, turning around and moving towards what seems to be a cable crossover machine. he grabs the hem of his black top with one hand, sliding it over his head as he dries the sweat around his neck, leaving the shirt there like a scarf. you stand there, staring at his muscular back. pressing your thighs together, why were you pressing your thighs together? this was megumi’s dad.
megumi’s phone kept buzzing in your hand, you looked at the screen, notifications on notifications showing there, you couldn’t see the texts unless it was unlocked but you could see the contact names, most of them were not saved, the rest being emojis.
“7 notifications from 💥”
“4 notifications from 👅”
“3 notifications from 🧜🏻♀️”
you could feel the rage settling in your stomach and all the way to your head, having a tight grip on his phone. the sound of weights bumping into eachother made you jump, looking up at where toji stood in between the machine, his arms working with the cables as his pecs flexed and unflexed.
the man glances at you from the side of his eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. he keeps opening and closing his arms with the wire, his gaze not leaving you as you practically have a staring contest. he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them as the scar on his lip tugs upwards with his smirk.
he stops moving his arms, making you flinch again with the sound of the weights hitting the metal, you find yourself pulling away your gaze from his crotch. when did you start staring at the bulge in his shorts?
you felt dizzy again as he started walking towards you slowly, his manly perfume filling your nose again. taking the damp black top around his neck and tying it around his forhead, he makes it into a makeshift headband as he pulls his hair back out of his forhead and up. you gasp at the sight, looking down at the ground in as your face starts heating up.
he stops a few inches infront of you, holding his large palm out to you as he motions for you to give him megumi’s phone. the loud forgein rap seems to fade away as his deep voice rings in your ears again, “explosion one’s ‘bitch that sucked him off real good,” he scrolled through megumi’s notifications with his thumb. the big phone looking tiny in his large hands, he held a bored expression on his face as he made your heart clench with each sentence, “tongue one he went down on,” he scoffs and chuckles darkly, “damn brat, the mermaid one must be the girl he fucked in my pool last night and denied of ever doing so when I busted his ass.” he twisted the phone in his hands and held it out to you.
a horrid expression filled your eyes as you kept your gaze on his chest, “oh and you must be the sunset girl, hm?” you looked up at him, tears brimming your eyes, “w-what??” he leaned forward and tucked megumi’s phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts, his big hand covering the majority of the cheek of your ass, making you shiver as your nose was practically in his neck, his musky scent making you dizzy.
as he pulled away, he whispered in your ear in a voice you could only recognize as seductive scary, “you look smarter than to be used by my excuse of a son, doll.” you blinked a few times. trying to register what just happened before quickly getting past him and making your way out of the gym and upstairs.
your head was swarming with thoughts as you sat in the living room, clutching megumi’s phone in your hands. you stared at the spiraling stairs that would lead you up to where he probably was. you were trying to mentally get yourself ready, should you ask him about it? should you even mention it? toji’s voice clouded your brain, he called you megumi’s plaything. was it true? were you just like all the other girls? getting used by him and getting lost between the many ‘emoji’s’?
you took a deep breath, heading upstairs and calling for megumi. his head plopped out of one of the rooms, hair in fluffy spikes as he smiled at you. “did you find it?” you nodded and walked towards him.
giving him his phone, he motioned for you to join him in his bedroom, sitting on his chair in the corner of the room as you sat on his bed in the center, looking at him anxiously as you gripped the bedsheets beneath your palms.
he was focused on his phone, scrolling through something with furrowed brows and an amused expression before he looked at you standing up and grabbing what seemed to be his car keys from his desk.
“hey uhh.. I’m sorry one of my friends is in big trouble, I gotta go but I’ll be back okay? do you wanna stay here until I come back?” he waited for your answer, lightly bouncing his foot as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and to wherever he was going.
you felt like you could cry any moment now, you just needed him to go away, to not be here to witness your pathetic tears and emotions. you bit on your bottom lip, should you wait for him? or go home? “uhm, yeah I’ll wait..” you said as his ocean blue eyes stared at you in anticipation, you couldn’t say no to them.
a wide smile came onto his face, giving you a salute and a small “thank you” before he hurried out of the room, getting downstairs with fast steps that you could hear.
you took a deep breath, falling back down on his bed, it smelled like him, like lavender. god what where you doing? your eyes felt heavy like your heart, why did you give him a chance to slither his way into you heart? he was supposed to stay your bully.
before you knew it, you fell asleep on his bed, your brain too swarmed by your thoughts that you wanted to just push away. you felt like you were half asleep, still being aware of your surroundings.
you opened your eyes to a vibration, it was your phone in your hands, you looked at the time, it had been almost an hour since you laid on his bed, not even aware if you were fully asleep or not.
you sighed, getting off his bed and out of his room, you looked around for a bathroom, finding it not too far from megumi’s room, in the same hallway a few steps down.
when you came out, you turned around only to bump into a chest, looking up, you covered your mouth with your hands, “I’m sorry! uhm...” it was megumi’s dad, he had a grin on his face, his hair damp atop his head, his chest bare, and a towel hanging around his torso.
he gave you a look up and down, “you’re good, where’s megumi?” he waited for your answer, but saw you fidgeting with your fingers and pouting, “he left you didn’t he?” you nodded weakly.
he brought his hand to his own chin, rubbing at it as he seemed to be deep in thought of something, then his gaze caught yours, your eyes dilating as a devilish grin made its way accross his lips.
before you could blink, your back was pressed against the wall of the hallway, his large hand around your throat as he towered over you. leaning his face close to yours as your eyes fluttered with his minty breath in your face, “then how about,” he tightened his grip on your throat, making you choke on a breath as he continued, “we get some revenge on him, yeah?”
you were speechless, this all felt like a fever dream. that’s it, maybe you hadn’t even woken up yet, maybe you were still sleeping soundly in megumi’s room. but the wetness pooling between your legs as he parted them with his knee said otherwise.
he smashed his lips onto yours, kissing you at a slow pace until your small hands were grabbing at his chest, pushing him away to look up into his dark eyes, “t-this is wrong— what are we—“
he sighed, “your little boyfriend is out fucking someone else right now, please don’t tell me your little teenage heart is in love with him or some bullshit.” he was right. you were nothing to megumi, you never had been. so why shouldn’t you act like he was nothing to you?
his eyes were searching your face, his brows scrunched together. you grabbed a fist full of the back of his hair and brought his lips down to yours, you could feel his smirk against your lips before he started to kiss you back again, this time rougher.
his tongue pushed against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him taste you. the smell of musk was all around you, making you dizzy as you grabbed at his hair. the kiss was a sloppy mess, his tongue dominating yours and biting at your bottom lip as he pulled back.
he pressed his bulge against your center, making you let out a small whimper as you looked up at him with doe eyes. he leaned in again, but this time his lips went to your neck, his tongue pressing against your pulse point as the beat of your heart got faster and faster. you could feel him sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck, leaving trails of crimson and rosemary all over your collarbone as you shuddered and small pants left your mouth.
his large hands were pressing into both sides of your hip, the towel around his torso shuffling as he practically grinded your clothed center onto it. on of your hands was laced through his hair, grip tightening as his mouth traveled down to your chest, pressing wet kisses right above your boobs that were still covered by the material of your shirt. your other hand held onto the large muscle of his bare bicep tightly, crescents forming from your nails as he bit the hard bud of your nipple from above your shirt.
your hand on his bicep traveled to his chest hesitantly, so hesitant that when your fingers accidentally brushed against his left nipple, he hissed, a shudder running down his spine and pulling back from where he was marking you up. you studied the loon on his face closely, his eyes were filled with lust, looking you up and down as he towered over your small form.
you looked back at the hand that was resting on his pec, his nipple hard right between your index and middle finger. you took a deep breath, slowly moving forward towards his chest, he watched you as you pressed a kiss to his nipple, his arm twitching from on the wall, the fingers from his other hand tightening around the flesh of your tiny hip. he wanted to stop you, let you know who’s in charge, but he decided to wait, wanting to know what you’re up to.
you pressed another kiss to the bud, only this time, your tongue pressed against it as you pulled away, earning a grunt from him. you stuck out your tongue circling his nipple in slow movements as your other hand trailed down his defined stomach, grabbing onto the self-made knot of his towel as you attempted to pull him closer than he already was.
the way your tongue was swirling around his nipple as you sucked slowly, kissing it after each nibble had him weak. he was god awful thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now, because his expression was not him. his face was burried in your neck, the tip of his nose a light pink that dusted his defined cheekbones too. his eyes were scrunched shut, his nose upwards as his mouth was agape, small pants and broken breaths leaving his pretty lips.
when you finally got the knot of his towel free, the white material going loose around his torso, you bit down on his nipple gently. that was his breaking point, the rope that finally snapped. hearing a deep growl from him, you could feel large hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you were flush against him, both your legs locked around his waist and your hands tight around his neck as you hid your face in between his two large pecs.
you were so lost in the strong smell of the shampoo previously used on his chest that you only felt his girth in between your legs when he started walking you both down the hallway. your eyes widened, looking down in between you and at the generous amount of manhood he had to give you with a gasp. you were dumbfounded, stuttering over your words as you tried to form a sentence, he was walking you both somewhere, a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest as you pressed your head to it again.
“ssshh don’t worry about that, doll.” he said, rubbing circles onto the flesh of your ass with his thumb. you pulled your head back from his chest as you felt his hands shuffle, throwing you onto a bed as you bounced a few times, your hair fanning around you as you closed your eyes, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is to come.
your eyes opened wide as your nose picked up the now familiar scent of lavender, looking around you in a haste, you were on megumi’s bed.
you looked forward, the sentence you wanted to scream at toji dying down on your tongue when you saw him crawling towards you with a malicious grin, the veins in his large biceps flexing with every moment, his cock standing upright under his stomach, the tip red and angry as precum dribbled onto the lavender-smelling sheets below you both.
his large form is above you, hands on either side of your head as he leans down again, grabbing at your shirt in an animalistic manner, you thought he was gonna tug it over your head, closing your eyes. you opened them back up when you heard a loud shredding sound. he had ripped your top to pieces, the fabric ripping in two beside you as your naked chest was exposed to him.
he raise his brows, the side of his mouth where his scar resided rising up into a half-smirk, “no bra? fucking dirty.” he grabbed one of your boobs, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he took the other one his mouth, humming around it as his long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, his gaze coming back to stare you in the eyes as you watched him. “were you prepared to get fucked by him again?” he said in between pressing his tongue against your nipple, earning small pants and whimpers from you.
“didn’t expect to be splayed out like this under his dad instead did you now?” his voice was deep, he sucked on your nipple repeatedly, making sure to give the other one the same attention as he rolled the other bud in between his large fingers. you moaned out loud when you felt his sharp teeth biting into your chest, “speak when you’re fucking spoken to.” he said as he landed a slap on your other boob, you whimpered, nodding your head “y-yes— I mean— n-no I didn’t—“
he gave out a dark chuckle, his hot breaths driving you crazy as he switched between your boobs, sucking and biting on the other one as he held them both in his hands, “haven’t even fucked you, yet you’re all dumb under me already.” he said with another chuckle as he hummed around your nipple.
he came back up to your lips, his huge cock pressing into your clothed center. you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, rising your head slightly from the pillow and bringing your face closer to his, your nose touching his, his gaze feral as it pierced you, his lips inches away from you as you could feel his hot breath over your lips.
he gave you a passionate kiss, his tongue diving into your mouth before he pulled away, your lips following him to get more, but he only chuckled darkly again, looking down at where his cock was practically twitching against you. “you gonna take your slutty fucking shorts off? or should I rip them as well huh?” you shakes your head rapidly, “n-no.” you squealed.
he raised his brows, his gaze moving between your eyes and your lips, his hand tightening around your throat, “no, who?” he nearly growled out. you squeezed your eyes together, breath catching in your throat as you whine out “n-no… daddy.” he smirked, giving a single smooch to your parted lips before loosening his hand around your throat, “atta girl, now c’mon, do as you’re told and I’ll play nice on you ‘kay?”
your hands were shaky as you lifted your hips, sliding your shorts down halfway to your knees, struggling to get out of them under his dark gaze. he groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands replaced yours, tugging the shorts down fully and throwing them somewhere on the floor.
he looked down at you, licking his lips. a wet patch had formed on your panties, his large hands coming to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your underwear before he groaned again, “too much fuckin work.” you heard another ripping sound, he had tore your underwear too, disregarding the pieces that remained on the bed as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh, his eyes coming back up to your face to watch your every expression.
“oops.” he muttered, snickering at you, before his face turned into one of— concern? your lips were trembling, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to blink them away. he moved up again, his hand coming up to hold your face in his palm, his thumb wiping at your wet lashes. “what is it, doll? are you scared?”
you sniffed, shaking your head grabbing his other wrist in your small hands, shakily bringing it to your lower stomach. he smiled, humming, “you want me touch you? take real good care of you?” his fingers inched closer to your clit, but still not touching, only grazing the upper part of your pussy.
you nodded, “uhh huh— p-please, fushiguro.” he chuckled again, the sound becoming familiar to your ears as you wanted to hear it more and more. “please??” he said in a teasing tone, his voice dropping a few octaves down if that was even possible.
“p-please toji—“ he laughed, the noise making your cunt flutter around nothing. “wrong answer, doll.” he slapped your clit, the action catching you off gaurd, making you let out a choked whimper. his hand still on your cheek, going down to grip your jaw as he hummed quizzically. “please, daddy.”
“mhhmm,” you felt his palm graze your clit as one of his thick middlefinger fingers entered you, your back arching and hips bucking up towards his hands as you moaned. “there you go, right there?” the pad of his finger pressed against the perfect spot inside of you, your thighs shaking around him as you nodded and moaned, his chuckles feeling your ears again.
your hips were bucking up against him in a circular motion, your walls tightening around his single finger as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to unwind, right then and there, he pulled his finger out of you, snickering as you whined. you looked down at him, his finger that was in you seconds ago now in his mouth as he hummed around it, “you taste so sweet, doll.”
he leaned down, taking his large cock in his hand, stroking the base a few times before lining it up right at your entrance, he was on his knees, looking down at you with a raised brow, “I’d ask you if you’re a virgin but,” your eyes widened as you felt his head move into you, your hands gripping the sheets and your knuckles growing white as you whimpered. “you’re a naughty little— fuck— slut. but still tight.”
your walls fluttered around him repeatedly as he tried to fit in more of his cock, stretching you open almost painfully, but god the stretch felt amazing. you felt like you could rip the sheets any moment now with the grip you had on them, you could barely keep your eyes open, nuzzling your head into your own neck and whimpering.
until you felt his fingers wrap around your throat again, looking at him as your mouth hung open, soundless breaths leaving your mouth and onto his face as he smirked, his cock was spreading you open so wide, you could feel every vein, every ridge of it brushing against your tight walls, and eventually his big balls tapping at your ass when he bottomed out.
he stilled inside of you, letting you let out your choked breaths until your hips were rutting against him, he groaned, “I’m trying to be nice here, give you time to get used to it, and you go and grind against me while I’m balls-deep inside of your tight little cunt?” your eyes rolled back as he gave you his first thrust, hard and unrelenting. making your tits jiggle up and back down again, your hands going to his wrist that is around your throat.
you hold his lower arm with one of your small hands, and the other around his wrist, pressing down on your throat until a squeak comes out your mouth, his cock twitches inside of you, and you clench around him as he gives you another hard thrust, “want me to choke you? you’re dirty like that?” his fingers tighten around your neck, and your around his arm and wrist.
his thrusts are hard, fucking into you with all the power in his hips and pulling out agonizingly slow, just to ram back in again. you moan out and let out incoherent babbles, he hums quizzically, and you lol your tongue out, his thrusts slow for a few seconds, chuckling darkly. he spits in your mouth, right on your tongue, and you can feel his thrusts speed up again as he grunts out “swallow then.”
and you do, you take all that he gives you, your cunt flutters around him again, your orgasm close as you claw at his large biceps, whimpering and moaning out, “f-faster, please daddy.” he groans, taking both his arms and balancing himself on top of you, but closer.
his hips move faster, not hard and agonizing anymore, but he listens to you. the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room and mixes with the ragged breaths coming out of his mouth, and then loud moans you’re giving out, your hands go to his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach snap, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the back of his hair.
he moans, the sound cutting short as he presses his lips to yours, it’s messy, just a wet battle of tongues as you both swallow eachother’s sounds. a string of saliva connecting you both as your pussy gushes all around him, cumming with a scream and another pull on the raven strands of his hair.
he keeps giving you sloppy thrusts, helping you ride through your orgasm, “fuck— yeah, cum on daddy’s cock baby, just like that.” his voice is shaky, the words coming out between broken breaths and grunts. he gives you one last thrust, making your whole body shudder as he fills you up, his warm cum painting your insides, as he moans repeatedly, his brows scrunched and his forhead resting in the crook of your neck as he tries to calm himself.
he lays on top of you for a while, but slowly pulls away as you start groaning, his body weight crushing you. with a chuckle, he pulls out, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve seen. he’s on his knees between your legs, holding the base of his own cock as he pulls out slowly, one side of his hair is in the air, messy around his head and beads of sweat decorate his chest.
you whine out at the feeling of being so empty, and he snickers, shaking his head and leaving the room before you notice. did he just leave you? you lay on the bed, and try to get up before his cum can stain megumi’s sheets. your legs are shaking as you try to make it to the bathroom, your lower stomach burning with an unfamiliar pain, you had never taken a dick this big before.
you washed up, getting out the bathroom with shaky legs, holding the wall for support. until you bumped into a chest, again. you looked up, he looked the same as when he left the room, “you really need to stop doing that doll. unless you want me to destroy your cunt.” toji says with a smirk, making your cheeks heat up.
“why did you get up?” he asks with a raise of his brows. you struggle to stand, your knee buckling as his gaze goes down to your trembling legs, chuckling as he has you in his arms in the blink of an eye, carrying you back to megumi’s room. “you can’t even walk now can you?” he says teasingly. and you huff, furrowing your brows as he sits you back on the bed.
“I went to bring you a shirt. since ya know-“ you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as he holds a black shirt in his hands, giving you a smile, “arms up.” you obey, putting both your arms up, waiting for him to put his shirt on you. he licks his lips, grinning as he gives out a chuckle, looking at you tits being stretched up with your hands, you didn’t even notice. you squeak, putting your arms back down and on your chest, trying to cover them as he chuckles again, his green eyes hooded and dark as he watches you, “hiding them from me as if— how adorable.” he shook his head.
he threw you his shirt, “go on, megs will be here soon.” you wear the shirt, the fabric big on you, the musky smell filling your senses again. you couldn’t face megumi now, not in his dad’s shirt.
toji chuckles, moving his hand through his hair as he clicks his tongue, “don’t think he can see you like this can he? or would you want that?”
your cheeks grow red, and you nibble on your bottom lip as you shake your head.
he sighs, “come down to the garage after you put your pants on. or don’t, that’s even better.” he leaves the room with a chuckle.
what did you just do?
•••••••••••••••••••
taglist? @medusa1111 (@itadaklmasu cuz your reply said part 2 heh) @emilykcoxx @calamariie (cuz you guy replied to part 1, hope you like this too <3)
© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work
#toji fushiguro#toji smut#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji#toji jjk#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro toji#megumi jjk
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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)
series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.
word count: 7.2k
warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS
Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.
You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.
Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.
“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”
“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”
He nodded again.
“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”
You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”
“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”
“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”
He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”
“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”
“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’
“Both.”
His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."
"I— I don't know."
"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.
You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).
"Please, I lo—"
"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."
"But it's true."
"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.
“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”
“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”
He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”
“I don’t know…” you mumbled.
“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.
“I… that’s sort of the idea.”
He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.
“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.
“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”
“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him
“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.
“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.
“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”
“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”
He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”
You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.
You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.
It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.
You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.
It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.
//
He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.
Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.
One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.
This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.
Then again, this was all his fault.
But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.
But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.
//
The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.
It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.
Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.
Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.
You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.
“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.
"Let me in," Sam instructed.
"And why should I?"
"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."
BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.
You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.
He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.
“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”
“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”
“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”
“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”
Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.
“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”
“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.
“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”
“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.
“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”
“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”
You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”
“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”
You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.
"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."
"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”
Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.
“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.
“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.
“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”
“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”
“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”
You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.
“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”
Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.
For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.
“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”
“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”
“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.
But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.
It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.
You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.
Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?
Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.
Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.
Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.
“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.
“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”
“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.
“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”
“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”
“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.
“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”
“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.
“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”
“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.
“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”
“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”
“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”
“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”
And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.
Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."
You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?
Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.
“Sam was just—” you began to defend.
"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."
And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"
He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.
"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."
He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."
"I mean it," you promised.
“And what does that mean for us?”
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.
“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”
You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.
“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”
“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”
“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”
“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”
He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”
With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.
“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.
“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.
“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”
“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”
You smiled a little. “He’s not.”
“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.
“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.
“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.
“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.
//
His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.
But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.
And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…
His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.
When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.
He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.
“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.
“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.
“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”
“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.
“I love you too,” he whispered back.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”
“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”
“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”
“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.
“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”
“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”
“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”
“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”
"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"
"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."
“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”
“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”
“No, I—”
“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”
“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”
“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”
“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”
“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”
“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”
“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”
“What about you?” you prompted.
“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."
"Definitely," you grinned.
“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.
“Deal,” you chuckled.
“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”
It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.
“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”
“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”
//
You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.
He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.
He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."
You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.
"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."
There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.
He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.
"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.
"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"
"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."
He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.
Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.
"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.
"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.
"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"
He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.
"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.
"What? That's it?!" you squawked.
"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.
"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.
"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.
"But aren't you, you know…?"
"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"
You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.
"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"
"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."
He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.
You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.
//
two years later…
“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.
“When he gets off of work,” you promised.
“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.
“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.
Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”
“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”
“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.
“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.
Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.
Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.
“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”
“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”
“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.
“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.
“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.
“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”
“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.
“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.
“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now. So, thank you.”
“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.
“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.
“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”
“And you’ve already gone through so much together. Is he doing alright? You know, his nightmares and stuff…”
You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people. “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”
“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted. “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again. “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”
“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”
“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger. “I mean, sapphires? Really?”
“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.
“Okay, fine,” he relented.
“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked. “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too. She’s a big fan of your work.”
“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.
“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”
“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder. “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat. Let me know if you need anything.”
He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.
“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.
“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.
You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.
Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.
"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.
"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.
"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it. "Just wait until my name comes up."
Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne
A Paramount Pictures Film
In Association with Europa
And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen. But something very important had changed.
Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes
Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard. "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide. "You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to."
"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"
"Buck, really. I want your name there with mine."
"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up. "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"
"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."
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Some Kind of AviSynth Files Update?
Ok, as promised, I present to the 5 of you still making gifs on Tumblr an updated and (sort of) improved process for (somewhat) easily leveraging AviSynth to make (mostly, but not “only”) Tumblr gifs.
I’ll consider this the “final form” for this awful slapped together bat file setup and focus my attention on something much more convenient and interesting for you guys to use--but I will update this as necessary as functional problems arise. I haven’t really had a chance to do a ton of testing, so I hope you guys can help me with that and let me know what kind of experiences you’re having trying this stuff out, good or bad. If you’re running into issues please let me know about them! It would go a long way towards making something better in the future.
Additionally, if anybody has some grievances/wishes/problems/concerns with their current process--whether that’s this set of batch files or your process with the old files/vapoursynth/etc., whatever--please do let me know. I have some pretty cool ideas, but I’d be interested to know what you guys hate about the tools available to you atm, or what you would like to see improved.
** I repeat, I have not done a ton of testing. Problems may be likely. Keep backups of your plugins folder and current C:/video setup for your own sake **
Anyway, on to the stuff, here’s what needs to be done:
Uninstall AviSynth 2.5. Tell them “I love you” and thank them for everything. We need to move on...it’s not them, it’s us...
JK, it’s them. We’re replacing 2.5 with AviSynth 2.6. Download and install. Don’t worry about where your install ends up, though it is most likely C:/Program Files (x86)/AviSynth/
Download this new batch (heh) of files: batinator-2.1.2.zip
The packaged zip includes a plugins folder. Move the contents of the included plugins folder into your AviSynth plugins directory. Refer to step 2, this will most likely be C:/Program Files (x86)/AviSynth/plugins/. Nothing you guys haven’t done a dozen times by now.
From here it should be business as usual. Within the batinator folder is an auto.bat. Drag your videos into this and the process will start. If you’ve ever used “avisynth” for this before it should be very familiar.
For reference, here are some things the new setup does better
Automatically find the avisynth plugins folder, no matter where it is. 32-bit, 64-bit, wrong folder name, doesn't matter. If avisynth is installed, it'll find the corresponding plugins folder.
Work from anywhere, not just c:/video. Put it in your desktop if you want. Put it in your music folder, I don't care.
Take a range OR cut 10 seconds automatically. 17s was too long tbh, you really need 17 seconds for one scene? STOP.
Better time seeking. Have you ever put in a timestamp and had this thing spit out the wrong scene by like a second? Awful. No more of that. Using the power of Math™, no frames are left behind.
Attempts to automatically decide the best process to load the video based on the format. There should be no more need for a lossless.bat to try a different method manually
Be less sloppy in general. What the hell is even happening in that black window? Nobody knows.
Save every output video to the output folder without overwriting, in case people want to make multiple cuts before working in photoshop. Because realizing you have to go back and re-do that gif that got overwritten is the saddest thing ever...
Resizer slightly less ugly (still working on that but I'm lazy)
Less shitty resamplehq errors, calculates better sizes in the resizer so that avspmod stops bitching for once in its stupid life
New remake.bat uses the same video and clip and skips to the steps of resizer + avspmod so you can try again, for when you were too lazy to preview it and SWORE those sharpen settings would look good, and they totally don't.
[NEWER] Leverage AviSynth 2.6 and L-SMASH for previously unsupported/badly supported video formats.
Some known issues/things planned
There are some problems with characters in certain languages that I have yet to fully look into. If you’re running into strange problems, checking if you have any non gringo friendly characters in any of the file paths would be a good first start
Files that load with LWLibavVideoSource may not load 100% perfectly. I’ve had issues with the first 20 or so frames being either janky or frozen, sometimes in the preview, sometimes only in the final output. I THINK I fixed this, but if you do run into it, please let me know. As a temporary solution, I would suggest overcompensating on the start time of your cut and making it start a few seconds earlier, just to ensure the first few frames you need are actually clean.
As usual, AviSynth is a Windows tool. I have cross-platform plans for the macfriends, but this will likely leverage VapourSynth, not AviSynth, and will be a re-write that is essentially the focus of what I intend to move on to now that this is (mostly) out of the way.
TL;DR
Uninstall AviSynth 2.5
Install AviSynth 2.6
Download new files (includes plugins folder): batinator-2.1.2.zip
Move plugins to AviSynth 2.6 plugins directory (located wherever AviSynth was installed)
Drag files into auto.bat and it’s business as usual
Please let me know how it works for you and any errors/issues/you encounter, even if they are known issues. More detail and insight are always welcome
#avisynth#gifhelp#tutorial#thanks for your time#been years and I still don't shut up#seriously tho give me your feedback#all three of y'all#birdman voice
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once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train
like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.
AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??
Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)
(ominous preview)
These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS
a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?
I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL
A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.
b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~
c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?
@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.
I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.
d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?
god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.
But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.
My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.
e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?
@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.
f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?
Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...
I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.
If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.
Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.
Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.
Some more general art questions
a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?
I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.
1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.
2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.
Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.
oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!
b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?
Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.
If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.
Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.
I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.
for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ
For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.
(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)
a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!
b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL
c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)
a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....
e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)
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CONGRATS ON 1K!!! For the event, could you do Bakugo with Fluff #4??? It just seems so much like him
“because i’m fucking in love with you”
pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader
cw: language, fluff, kissing
word count: 2500+
a/n: i have to write a levi oneshot now, bruh i might just go sleep, who knows what i’m going to do
summary: in which bakugo watches you get too close with another man and can’t help but let his anger take over seeing you with anybody other him
1k event masterlist
↞ back to my hero academia masterlist
Bakugo had many reasons to get angry on a warm summer day at the office. Being a pro hero had its ups and downs, the down being what was occurring today. Paperwork, he hated it with a passion, he loved the idea of fighting and defeating villains but the idea of writing it all up made his skin itch in disgust. Of course he had his sidekicks to help him, but they would never know the true extent of having to re-read over fights that occurred and signing it all off.
Bakugo still had other reasons that annoyed him, the weather had become broiling, his sidekicks were pissing him off and then there was you. You with your hero costume that looked tighter every time he saw it, you with the way you’d walk into a room and have everybody on your feet. You who had whipped him like a servant boy, he hated having to work alongside you. You had your own agency a couple blocks away from him, but ever since you both found out you took the same route. You’d come and annoyingly meet him throughout the day.
He hated it, and as he signed off on another report, his V neck not helping him at all, he heard the sounds of chatting from outside his office, that's when he saw it through the glass. The way you flaunted past the desks with your skimpy hero costume which he understood was for the best possible use of your quirk. But even then, it always cupped your body in just the right places.
You seemed to have been waving at one of the new sidekicks Bakugo had recruited. He hated it, pen almost breaking from his anger, he watched as you didn't bother to knock only cascade inside with the looks of others following your pristine body. “What?”
“How rude, Bakugo! Is that any way to greet your favourite pro hero.” You mocked falling onto the chair with a hefty sign, he watched at how you were clearly out of breath with the way your chest heaved harshly.
“Shut it, extra. What do you want?” He repeated.
You began playing with the stuff on his desk, he’d noticed how you always needed something in your hands and since he had always left a small jelly like plushie just for these moments. You happily put it in your hand pulling and stretching at it before looking up at him, “are you not coming for the patrol?”
“I got paperwork.” He signed as you saw the almost boxful of papers.
“No fair, I'll just go on my own then.” You were about to stand up when he stopped you.
“Get one of your sidekicks to go, idiot, help me with this.” He gestured to the paperwork that he knew wasn't the full extent as you both had decided to split it.
You gave another huff at him, “just because I’m organised doesn't mean i want to spend my Monday morning doing dreary paperwork.”
“I know you split it 70:30 so fucking help me.” He growled loudly making a shiver run down your spine.
“So needy, Bakugo, let me just call them.” You gesture to your phone as you walked outside his office. You leant against the glass door, Bakugo’s eyes fixed to the way your ass and thighs had been pushed against the wall. He licked his lips as he stared longley at your body before hearing your sign.
That's when he saw his new sidekick come up to you, of course he knew that the sidekick was only a couple years younger than the two of you. But he had a crush, the way his eyes lingered across your body, the way he passed you the coffee which you hadn’t even asked for. The way you laughed at his shitty joke, were you really flirting back with a man like that, Bakugo scowled before directing his eyes back to the paperwork.
“I’ll make sure to come for you when I need some coffee.” You laughed at the boy as you opened the glass door.
Bakugo heard the boy give a chuckle touching your arm as he let you go through the door. “Here do you want some?” You gestured to the coffee you had, noticing the empty coffee mug on the side of his desk.
“No.” Bakugo muttered but nevertheless took the coffee and drank a large gulp of it. “Why don’t you get your little coffee boy to bring more?”
He was pissed not only had you let his stupid sidekick touch you, but you’d made him feel special as if he had your attention. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” You chucked the cup in the bin, going over to the box where you grabbed some files out.
Bakugo didn’t make a remark instead letting you read over what had occurred and sign it off. “Bakugo.” You whispered halfway through your first file and already bored. “Bakugo.”
“What?” He questioned after he had seen you become more concentrated in the pen you held than the paperwork itself.
You stared at him with a bright smile, “we should get some lunch.”
“Y/n, it’s only half 10, it's a bit early for lunch.” He scowled, chucking the finished file into the complete pile.
“But I’m hungry.” You whined leaning against the cold desktop, it was white and probably made from marble, but it was the best bet of comfort you’d get from Bakugo’s office.
“Go get some food then.” He muttered as you stood up all giddy. “Get me something as well.”
“Now who’s the hungry one.” You mocked as you happily skipped out of his office, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and give a slight smile to you. But that’s when he saw his stupid sidekick come up to you. His face faulted, his smile turning downwards as he watched you both converse and leave to the elevator.
“You really don’t have to come.” You spoke stepping into the elevator, you hated how vulnerable you felt with Bakugo, how easily he could stare at you and make you go weak at the knees. He was perfect, an amazing pro hero who was ahead of you in the charts by the couple of numbers. You were almost grateful that your paths had crossed and that you spent patrols together, but his sidekicks were a whole other thing.
You knew the coffee boy had a crush; the whole department knew that. But how could you let a sweet boy down after all he did was such good things, how could you tell him you’d rather have his asshole of a boss than a sweetheart like him. “No, it’s fine, I was going that way anyway.”
“Oh why?” You questioned through the long elevator ride down.
“I had to buy some stuff for my sister's birthday and I'm on my break.” You nodded happily, not asking anymore through the uncomfortable silence as soon as the door dinged open, you both walked out, he had walked you to the bakery as you were craving a sandwich, he waited as you picked one you liked and one that Bakugo definitely likes. He didn't say a word until you spoke.
“What are you thinking of getting your sister?” You asked walking with him into the store selling gifts.
“What do you like, I mean girls like?” A heavy blush formed on his face as you began looking through the gifts.
“I’d probably go for that drinks set, it’s cute if she of course drinks that is.”
He quickly spoke to ease your gaze, “she does.” He instantly grabs it going to pay, you didn't question his rash decision and you both walked back to the building.
“I’m sure she’ll love it.” You smile out as you both step through the office again, Bakugo in an instant saw the two of you, bags in hand.
“I hope so, thank you Y/n.” He smiles putting his hand on your shoulder, he goes in for a hug which you happily give, he was clearly nervous for his sister's birthday. Bakugo watched intensively, surprised at the hug as he stormed out of the doors of his office on a mission to grab you and take you with him.
“Y/n.” He bellowed out.
You both retreated from the hug, staring at the angry blond, “Bakugo, i bought sandwiches.” You happily smile out, rummaging through the bag to show him it, “and cupcakes.”
His face fell, a smile erupting that he didn't know he was even capable of, you looked so happy showing him the cupcakes with the pink frosting on them. “Come on.” He whispered watching you come beside him, his arm on your back guiding you inside.
Bakugo guided you inside, watching you happily pull out the food, he saw how you moved the chair for visitors beside him making him move up. You were closer than he had expected, leaning across to grab the cupcakes and stuff one in your face. “You looked angry before?”
“I wasn't.” He muttered while taking a bite of the sandwich.
“Don’t lie to me, what’s up?” You began to play with his other hand, he hadn't expected it but the way your hands had just met his own, the way you skimmed his veins and the rings that embodied his fingers. It felt like heaven, but your eyes gave a sense of doubt and resistance.
“I...I just don’t like you spending time with that guy.” He spoke staring at you, your eyesight was on his hand still, the way you continued to play with his fingers before moving to the back of his hand.
You took a sharp breath before speaking to yourself, “is it because of his crush on me?”
“You know about that?”
“Of course I know Bakugo, I think everybody knows about it.” You whispered out softly.
“Is he your type?” Bakugo had gone against his words of jealousy, maybe if you admitted you liked coffee boy then he could move on more easily.
You finally looked up at the blond, his piercing red eyes giving a look of caution, “he should be.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugo moved his hand away from you, your unclear answer had made him a lot more pissed at the idea of you stringing both the men along.
“I...I just mean that he’s nice y’know and he should be my type, but he’s not.” Bakugo’s anger seemed to calm down as he gave you a softer look.
“Who is then?” Bakugo went to grab the cupcake you had bought for him ,taking a soft bite as the sweet frosting enchanted his mouth.
“You have frosting on your lips.” Bakugo went to lick it as you avoided his question entirely.
“Y/n, who’s your type?” Bakugo repeated staring at you, in an instant you stood up not wanting to confess anything else.
“I’m going to go see how my guys are doing.” You left him with no other word, he couldn't even stop you at how you almost ran away from the situation. Even if he had found out you didn't like the coffee boy you were now avoiding him which felt a lot worse.
Bakugo tried calling you but it went to miss call, he ended up finishing the rest of the paperwork and by the end of the day he knew you’d probably be hung up in your office, pushing yourself to do something other than talk to him. He began walking the short distance in the humid air, the sun was just about to set as he arrived at your agency. He always liked the vibe you had going on, even your sidekicks were okay, a lot better than his own. He was able to get inside with ease, walking the steps towards your office, he could see your shadow through the frosted glass.
You seemed to be pacing on the phone to someone, but he couldn’t tell who until he was just in ear shot. “I can’t tell him that, he’s going to think these months have just been me being selfish.”
Bakugo couldn’t hear the other line but it raised more questions in the boys mind instead. He was careful about being unseen until he heard you continue. “He’s a fucking idiot, how could someone like him ever love me, I’m nothing special.”
He heard another long sign from you at the response from the other side before hearing you say your farewells and begin to pace about the room. Bakugo softly knocked against the door, hearing a come in as he walked inside, your office being as pristine as ever. You were no longer wearing your hero costume, assuming you had been on a patrol yourself at the tiredness that set in your eyes.
He saw you as a normal civilian at this moment, so sweet and innocent but you gave a glare. “How long were you listening in for?”
“I...I wasn't.” He stuttered out.
“Bullshit, why the fuck were you listening into my private conversation?” You scowled again leaning against your desk.
Bakugo knew he was caught but in his idiocrasy decided to make the situation worse, “who’s the guy you’re talking about?”
“Why do you care?” You spoke stubbornly.
“Y/n, who’s the guy?” He repeated himself.
You faced the blond scowl on your face at his relentless pushing of an answer. “It’s nobody okay, I don’t even understand why you care so much?”
Bakugo’s anger rose at you hiding even more from him, how could he work alongside you if you were just going to keep him in the dark about some stupid guy that probably meant fuck all in the big picture. He knew this wasn't the true reason behind his anger though, he was jealous, some man you loved didn't love you back, and he was here with all his love to give.
“Because I’m fucking in love with you.” Bakugo shouted, the words spewing out without even realising. Bakugo’s eyes widened and so did your own, he looked at how your eyes had almost softened at the confession.
“You...You love me?” You questioned standing up to come closer to him.
“I’m not repeatin…”
You quickly interrupt him, your bodies almost touching as your hand moves to his face making him stare right back at you. “I love you too.” You softly whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. His hand moved to your face guiding the kiss as he had to bend down to even meet you.
It was filled with passion and drive from the countless nights you both spent together in each other's office, the morning patrols together and even the galas you attended together as friends. Everything you both had wanted from each other had come down from a singular kiss in a small office in the middle of Japan.
A small moan escaped your lips, his tongue gliding in with such ease as he toyed with your own, almost sucking the spit and saliva that was across your own tongue. He let go taking a harsh breath and he brought your face closer to his, foreheads touching as he gave the softest look he possibly could. You stayed in his arms, just staring at each other with such love and passion, both knowing nothing could break you both now.
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fic rec masterlist
canon divergent/finale fix its
Anamnesis
THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!
"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."
Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas
GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face
The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts
repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it
“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”
Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?
VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!
"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."
Keep Your Love Alive
okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much
"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"
The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas
this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️
“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“
Ascend by @wanderingcas
THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss
“Something in the world is wrong.
Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.
But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.
Or can it?”
Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles
i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen
Closer (isn't close enough)
are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.
“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”
You and Your Husband
it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3
"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."
Tall Grass
miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3
Invictus
a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it
“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.
Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.
They still have someone they need to save.”
Unchained Link
post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!
"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."
fun and time unspecified
Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5
very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️
"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."
The Way We Were
Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual
"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"
While You Were Sleeping
this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.
aus/rewrites
The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript
i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it
“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“
absolute riots
An Ineffably Profound Bond
i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this
"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.
When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."
Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige
cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it
“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“
Stray Cat Strut
a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this
"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.
Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"
canon compliant or slight canon divergence
Give
by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic
Punch Like Bones
short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten
#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it#i had to go onto desktop for this#ill keep adding on to it#my fic recs#fic rec#spn fic rec#deancas fic recs#charlie.txt
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The Reunion
Day 5--I had completely forgotten that I had written this lol. It’s more fluff as usual. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s later on!
Enjoy! :)
1.8k words
Rowan couldn't wait to get home. Today had been...exhausting, to say the least. He was a personal trainer, and with that came the territory that people would talk about their issues while working out. Which was fine, Rowan understood that letting out emotional issues when working out helped people to stay motivated. He himself had been known to rant about his issues when working out himself.
But today had been a lot. One of his regulars had put on weight over the Yulemas holidays and was beating himself up over it. Another regulars marriage was over and was dealing with that guilt. Someone had lost a favourite aunt. Another one had to break off an engagement because it was a loveless relationship. And on and on the issues piled up.
Rowan was good at compartmentalizing, but after a while, he ignored his lunch break in order to go to the park to just...not think for a while.
Being at the park cheered him up a little, but his break was soon too over. And he was back to work, and that was when the skies decided to open up and pour down buckets of rain. Making a bad day into a shittier one.
His wipers were on the fastest setting and he was driving at a snails pace when he looked away for one second, one fucking second, when he heard a thump and a feminine voice yell out “what the fuck!”
Slamming on the brakes, Rowan came to a speedy conclusion.
He was at a pedestrian crossing and he just hit someone with his car.
He just hit someone with his car.
“Fucking hell!”
Pulling up the handbrake, Rowan got out, not sure what to say or do when he came across a golden haired woman, her eyes spitting out blue and gold fire.
Rowan blinked at her, because despite being covered in rain and sitting on her behind, hand rubbing at her hip, she looked familiar.
But now wasn't the time to thinking about that. He had to see if she was okay. “I'm so sorry,” he got out, “I have no idea what happened. I looked away for a second, that was all. I'm so fucking sorry. Are you okay?”
“My hip and my ass hurt, and I suspect that I'm going to have a wicked bruise, but I think I'm okay,” the stranger said. “You should really watch what you're doing, though.”
“I know. I'm sorry, again.”
The stranger sighed, and even that sounded familiar. “What a fucking day I'm having,” she mumbled.
“Bad day?” He probably made it worse, too. He should also really get her into his car, but she starting ranting before he could do anything about it.
“The fucking worst. I'm facing a deadline that I can't finish, because I'm having dreadful writers block. My landlord is a fucking creep who came to my place today saying that my underwear 'accidentally' got mixed in with his laundry. My cousin's dad recently came back into his life, so now he's angry all the damned time and it's leeching into me. And you just hit me with your car.”
Rowan nodded in understanding, but only could manage to say, “Yeah, your day definitely sucks.”
She glared at him, silently telling him that that wasn't really the best way to respond, but he was having a bad day, also.
Which wasn't an excuse he knew, but Gods, it wasn't really his day either.
Rowan helped her up, her hands warm despite the cold and took her to his passenger seat and pulled over to the side. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled like jasmine and lemon verbena. A calming scent.
“I'm not sure what the protocol is,” he admitted after handing her a hand towel from the glove box. “Do we call the police? Or my insurance? I should take you to the hospital, I know that much.” Even if all she said was that she hurt her behind and hip, it'd be best to ensure that she didn't fracture anything.
When she said nothing after a moment, Rowan turned, noting that the silence from the woman was a little concerning, scared to death that maybe she hit her head and was going into shock.
Her blue-gold eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” he asked again. He really should get her to the hospital.
“Are you...? This is...you couldn't be. Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn?”
Rowan blinked, his concern turning inward. “Yes, that's my name. How did you—?”
“I, uh, it's me. Aelin Ashryver Gala—”
“Galathynius?” He finished for her. She nodded.
They sat in silence as Rowan stared at her, taking in her blue-gold eyes, golden hair, the lemon verbena and jasmine smell of her. Recalling the familiar sigh. All of it.
Rowan wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel when all of it came crashing down on him. He had just hit his high school crush with his car.
Rowan, for whatever reason that he couldn't name, wanted to laugh. He never would have suspected that he would hit Aelin Galathynius with his car ten years after high school graduation.
He was fairly certain that high school him had been in love with her from the moment he saw her. Rowan had wanted to ask her out at least a dozen times, but he was an awkward seventeen year old that didn't know how to talk to women that weren't family members and never gained the courage to do so.
It was one of his biggest regrets from his teenage years.
The last time he had seen her was at the after party of their graduating day. She wore a daisy flower crown and was sparkling in a golden dress. He had never seen someone as beautiful as her—even to this day.
Unbeknownst to Rowan, Aelin had felt the same way. She was confident back then as she was now, but every time she wanted to go up to Rowan to talk to him, to get to know him, the butterflies in her stomach threatened to strangle her.
So she never did ask him out. And here she was now, ten years later, in his car. He was still the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
She was still pissed as hell though that he hit her with his car.
It had only taken a moment, a single moment, for her to realise who it was she was sitting next to. The moment that the hand towel touched her face and she breathed in the pine and snow scent of it, she was transported back to the past.
“How have you been?” Rowan asked her after long minutes. His green eyes still as pretty as the day Aelin saw them. She was sure that was what she loved about him the most all those years ago. Other than Lysandra's, Aelin had never seen such a stunning green.
Aelin snorted, her fond memories disappearing at the inane question. “You were listening when I was ranting, weren't you? My day has been shit.”
Rowan gave her a small smile, and her heart skipped a beat. He still smiled the same. She had liked that about him, too. Still did, apparently.
“No, I mean how's life been since graduation? You mentioned writers block. Are you a writer then?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I write fantasy-adventure-romance novels under the name of Celaena Sardothien.” She had liked the animosity of it all, with none of her books containing a single photograph of her.
“That's amaz—wait. You mean to tell me that you're the writer of the 'Fireheart' series?”
Aelin smiled proudly. “That's me. Have you read them?”
“I have. It's one of my favourite series.” They were his guilty pleasure, really, but it felt rude to say that out loud, as if it was shameful.
Aelin blinked, taken aback at the confession. “Really? You mean to tell me that brooding Rowan Whitethorn reads romance novels?”
Rowan frowned a little bit at that. “I don't brood. Not anymore.”
“You're brooding right now.”
Rowan grumbled. Okay, maybe he was, just a little bit, however.
“How about you, though?” Aelin asked. “How's life been?”
“Busy. And right now, it's a bit shitty. I'm sorry for hitting you with my car, truly. We should get you to a hospital, though. Just to make sure that you're okay, please,” he added, when he saw that she opened her mouth to likely protest. “I won't be able to sleep if it turns out you need a hip replacement or something and I didn't take you to get checked out.”
Aelin truly doubted she would need a hip replacement, but nodded anyway. “Okay, you can take me to the hospital. And then afterwards, I'll give you my number and you can take me out to dinner.”
Rowan blinked at that and then smiled. He had always like confidence in a person. “Okay, it's a date.”
“I've never had a date after a hospital visit.”
“Well, then, I better make it great.”
Aelin smiled, warmth filling her. The day turning out a little nicely, despite it all. “You better.”
x x x x x
As Rowan lead Aelin to the dance floor, he couldn't believe his luck. Never in a thousand years did he think that accidentally hitting Aelin with his car would lead to this.
To their first dance as husband and wife.
It had been exactly one year to the day when he saw her again after ten years. It was very much an Aelin thing to want to have their wedding anniversary to match the date.
The story had been re-told by a slightly tipsy Fenrys as part of his best man speech, about how Rowan would be the only man in the world to meet his future wife by way of a car accident. The story always made people laugh, with people saying that the universe must have wanted to get them together and was sick of them taking too long.
Because as it turned out, when Rowan and Aelin's relationship grew and they learned more about their ten years of life, they were always somehow minutes away from running into each other. From when Rowan was starting his hike in the Southern Continent, Aelin had just finished hers and was going back to her hotel—the very fact that they were staying at the same hotel, but floors apart.
When Rowan had missed out on book tickets to a signing of her third novel in the Fireheart series, and he had to turn around and leave the bookstore since it was a private function just as Aelin was moments away from going on.
From going to the same concerts, to the same festivals, from seemingly everything that they had in common, they had missed each other by minutes.
They silently thanked the universe, even if the way they ran into each other was less than ideal. But they wouldn't change it for the world.
Rowan kissed his wife and thanked his lucky stars.
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