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paalove · 6 months

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just reread nothing to lose and i am once again thinking about "pran doesn’t listen to his parents about much, right?" pran doesn't listen to his parents about much... pran doesn't listen to his parents about much... AHHHHH!!!

also thinking about how the week I finished bad buddy I was like PRAN ELLA ENCHANTED AU and just rotating this in my mind along with that concept. idk if you have read ella enchanted but as a possible prompt— a bad buddy, pran cursed with obedience! au

HEY. YOU SENT THIS MONTHS AGO AND I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT WEEKLY SINCE. 🥰

first: thank you ily, im glad you like that tiny little au it's one of my favourite pocket-universes <3

second: main fic coming in... hopefully the next couple of weeks? meanwhile here is a scattered little multi-pov intro to the fic i HAVE been calling "ella enpranted" xoxo

...

“Listen to me, Pran,” his mother says.

He does, because she’s his mother, and he does because he has to.

Concern etched into the lines of her face, deep deep worry and upset in her eyes, she orders him, “Stay away from that boy as much as you can,” and Pran will, because he has to.

As much as he can.

…

It’s hard to track him down this week – sometimes Pran gets skittish – but Pat finds him on Wednesday! It’s just been art, and Pat is taking the not-allowed-but-whatever shortcut that goes behind and around the weird little separate building that’s been used for art since they switched where all the languages rooms are, and there-

“Pran!” he calls, running over.

As he does, Pran’s head jerks up and he looks over and his eyes go wide, face startled, but he doesn’t look mad so Pat knows he’s only stashing his books away because he likes an escape route, he’s not mad at Pat.

So, Pat grabs the folder furthest from Pran and picks it up, flipping through and seeing a bunch of physics notes in Pran’s neat handwriting and smooth, black ink, because Pran never seems to have a pen go dry in the middle of writing anything, it’s all so even and careful.

Pran reaches out for it, then his hand freezes like an inch away from it and he says, “Pat, give that back.”

“No,” Pat says, but he’s smiling at Pran and Pran smiles back.

Shaking his head and turning – saying with his shoulders I’m not waiting for you and saying with the half smile but you can follow me if you want, I guess, it’s whatever – Pran says, “I need the folder back at some point.”

“I’ll give it back later,” Pat agrees.

Pran runs off when he doesn’t have something hostage, but he’s never mad about Pat taking his stuff. It’s just a game they play.

…

“Has someone told you to do something you don’t want to?”

She’s genuinely concerned, he knows that.

But she hasn’t ordered him to be honest, so he’s got enough leeway to not say you, Mae, it’s always you, because that would hurt her feelings and it wouldn’t change anything anyway, and Pran instead says, “The teacher assigned us both to be in the band,” and lets her remember all that trial and error, years ago, when they had to figure out how the orders worked.

Pran’s parents know that his too-powerful, too-flighty aunt’s gift was for them, so their orders normally take precedence over anyone else’s; they also know that their later orders take precedence over earlier ones, unless they specifically build something in, like telling him to disregard later ones that contradict the one they’re making right now. This pause is, he’s sure, letting his mother remember telling him to always consider teachers’ orders to outweigh all but a select few of her own.

Of course, most of what Pran’s figured out, he hasn’t told them.

Or even written down.

It’s safer to keep what he knows to himself.

His mother closes her eyes, nods, and says, “I suppose it couldn’t be avoided at that school.”

Pran wishes he had any way of stopping what comes next.

…

Dissaya’s son is honest, kind, and good.

Those are things she knows about him, things that she needs to protect and nourish and help to grow, and things that can’t be poisoned in him the way they were in her. She doesn’t like making him sad, dragging him away from his friends, but Pran is so vulnerable.

Moreso because of the gift.

It made her heart freeze in her chest the first time she saw him on the playground, some smaller child cheering him on, Higher! Higher, and the face of frozen fear on Pran’s face not even slightly getting in the way of how high he was swinging-

She still shudders to think of it.

Her sister-in-law was unrepentant when she called. Of course a gift of obedience doesn’t stop at the walls of their household, she’d laughed, but it’s always going to be stronger for family, isn’t that nice?

It’s not in her nature to yell, really, especially not at her husband’s beloved little sister, but she made an exception that day.

And then she had started to plan.

The idea that her careful planning and careful instructions to Pran haven’t been enough, haven’t kept him safe…

She’s never a coward except when it comes to Pran.

Dissaya sends him away.

…

It’s not written down, not anywhere, but Pran has a list of things he knows to be true about his gift.

His parents’ gift.

If his parents tell him, directly, to do something, he can’t help but do it. There’s no resisting directly, from the second he hears the order he begins to carry it out.

Physically impossible orders are an absolute exception – they arrive at Pran’s ears like normal, non-magical words, just the way a normal sentence works for anyone else on earth. He won’t try to fly if someone tells him to.

If anyone outside his family tells him directly to do something possible, it depends on what his parents have said first, but normally… he has to do it.

Pat telling him to race counts.

Pat whining at him to stop ignoring him also counts.

Pran has some leeway in deciding what counts.

In fact, Pran decides what an order means. He can know his parents meant one thing, but if the actual words they used mean something else… Pran can pick, kind of. Only kind of. He’s been experimenting with those limits for years.

The final part of it, the part that he’s known from the start and can never let himself forget or forgive, is the part that’s least useful and most essential.

8. It’s not a gift.

Because Pran has those old orders – keep yourself safe, don’t hurt others, and always prioritise teachers over other kids – and they make something like a shield, but one that it hurts to hold. The order to ignore other people’s orders no matter what never, never worked.

They must be physically impossible. Or something like that.

#patpran #bad buddy #bad buddy series #robfic

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gerrydelano · 23 days

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DANNY GOING 💥 ANON HERE. HEWWO. I AM SO GLAD THIS ISN'T CANON

this is perhaps??? the 8th time im rewriting this??????????? but i keep coming back to it. you're one of my favourite authors period so i HAD to just fuckging. absorb all of this so i could process it correctly.

okay okay so

1. widower tim breaks my fucking heart. like really there is no way to properly convey this to you over the screen. like. his whole thing is love, right? it's why he's the witness in literally every iteration of the gtcu. so for him to have to actually Witness gerry's death and be the most broken i have seen him across three aus where the world ends in every one of them breaks me. beyond belief. you and ren made him my favourite (next to danny) and then some. waugh

1b. 'a spire in the fog' A LIGHTHOUSE WITHOUT A LIGHT, YOU COULD SAY?

1c. i don't remember the ronologue it was exactly but it said that marriage wasn't a serious consideration but wife is a nickname that gerry loves?

2. pink is jon's honesty colour. he is wearing a pink kurta. i am going to sob.

2b. the description of the sunny day that gerry died on makes me wail.

3. MELANIE'S EVERYTHING. I LOVE HER SO MUCH. I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE IDEA OF HER MAKING A MEMORIAL VIDEO FOR GERRY FEATURING ALL THE STATEMENT GIVERS WHO WE HELPED. TIMOTHY HODGE. CAROLINE. CALLUM.

4. divishah and the cocoa. god. actually rewinding a little to say that i made it to 'no more estrogen' before crying. sasha did lose a sister!!!! HER BROTHER DIED AND SO DID HER SISTER. FUCK

4b. okay back to the cocoa. that was really kind of her to come all the way down to the archives just to bring them all a treat i love her so much.

4c. SASHA LIKE. REVERSE WITNESSING TIM? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT GOD. GOD GOD GOD /pos

4c(i) sasha and tim's sections ending the same then danny's ending as the inverse of that. they are the siblings 4ever.

5. DANNY. DANNY!

5b. okay i am really fucking pleased because i think i figured out a through line here. I will put it in a second ask because i need to back (9th time now!) to make sure i am correct so i will leave my miscellaneous observations here

danny only names himself in his dialogue once he recalls coming back when gerry can't

he calls himself the bull and Martin the tamer like how the contortionist did

tim standing in the doorway and blocking him out reminds me of hlm when danny comes to tims house the first time and tim refers the black out curtains he had to get bc of jon's stalking? that's like. the loosest connection ever lmao but it's a parallel and it hurts. (warm and solid vs cold and intangible...)

seconding this by the description of tim's eyes being the same way as the 'nothing. and nothing hurt' that keeps popping up in rtd.

also thanking you for letting danny cry? that sounds weird but it's nice to see a moc that just. is allowed to let it out. i am rotating him (all of them really) in my head

BOOM ANOOOON i'm so glad to see you! you really did just Infiltrate My Brain with that ask and i got completely overtaken and it feels like it's been more than 5 days ngl. thank you So much for the inspiration, i did have a lot of fun with this exercise, it was a challenge to kill my favorite LOL.

cracks knuckles here we go

1. widower tim breaks MY heart! "his whole thing is love, right?" you GET IT! his whole thing IS love! i can't see him as anything other than the witness at this point, even if pbr!witness is extremely different and Much Wetter than the original rtd!witness. him witnessing gerry's death in here is actually just fucking awful because he'd subsist on it in a very specific way; the arrangement renders it a suicide just as much as a murder. writing him this broken was so painful but so satisfying djhfkjdf tim is a worthy favorite to have! he's always been my favorite of the original archives crew, if it wasn't Blatantly Obvious by how much we center him LMAO.

1b. a lighthouse without a light.... you're krilling me, boom anon. shrimply krilling me.

1c. i believe it was the one about gerry being a transfem gay man!

2. pink! is the jon honesty color! yes!!!! he's been quite forthright this whole time i think, they're all really just. wondering what the point would be in anything else.

2b. i neeeeded that anachronism there so badly, just. it's a bright summer day! it's never actually raining or dreary when things like this happen (unless you recall that it was raining in venice when tim was drowned. that time it rained.) but generally, the world goes on. i think... i also just wanted that sunny day to be a little reminder of the kind of person gerry was at his core. symbolism etc etc.

3. i was SOOOO STUMPED ON MELANIE for a WHILE before i remembered she was a youtuber and then i exploded on the spot. her video is titled "the long overdue absolution of gerard keay" and she works for six months to make it perfect and it gets a lot of bad attention and skeptics but mostly condolences and maybe even a few people who had their own experiences but didn't recognize who he was until they saw a picture of him smiling. she'd include selfies they'd taken together as proof of her knowing him. i'm crying a little.

4. sasha losing a sister is a phrase i had a hard time with because there are so many ways to read it, like. that was her best friend's wife, and so kind of her sister that way, but also just. a sister. no more estrogen. no more joy.

4b. divshah is a sweet and thoughtful little bee girl and i am so sorry to her forever because people definitely make fun of her but GERRY NEVER DID! GERRY NEVER DID!

4c. sasha reverse witnessing tim GUHHHH yep! yep! her whole corruption thing is about grief, too, it crosses lines! they all have to do with loss in one way or another!

4c(i). YES YOU NOTICED THE INVERSE YESSSS my work here is complete

5. DANNY INDEED! FUCK!

5b. 9 times jhbfkjnfkjn wildman! i'm crying again!

observations:

YES I AM SO GLAD YOU NOTICED THAT TOO i didn't want him to name himself much in his pov section but i needed to use it there and GUH. you are the most observant and you made my night jdfhbdk

always comes back to the bullfighter and the bleeding man dunnit

that's a fun connection to make tbh!!!! i was saying to ren today "you know what'd Suck the most? if tim didn't even let him in the house and they just talked in the doorway" and they were like "then you have to do it. if it sucks the most that's what you have to do." and YEP! it sucks the most to me!!!! for precisely that reason!

tim's eyes also hurt me like hi mr. spooky man maybe work on that a little bit please g-d you're gonna scare a small child like that. very good connection to rtd though you are NAILING IT and i am over the MOON.

danny crying is extremely important to me for that reason too yes g-d. like. all the other men cried in this, too (especially tim YIKES, MAN) but something about letting danny just weep openly and in such a human way felt like. g-d he's needed this for such a long time. so much longer than anybody is able to count. he needed to let that out and be held through it and he needed to accept that comfort and it's not the first time, really! i try not to be too restrained with letting characters cry because there are a thousand reasons that somebody might like, feel good about seeing it just play out naturally and without shame.

thank you so much for your observations and your enthusiasm and just, everything, jfhbkjnfkjn gosh WOW thank you!

#asks #anon #💥#bad end tag #pbr tag #reviews

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mrcspectr · 2 years

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rn the roomie is showing off the House Weaponry and i was thinkin abt the way marc kind of . seems to ? avoid fighting with knives ? and was just like . exploding bc im. watching the way marc brawls on the rooftop & he . he constantly knocks knives to the ground but he keeps his own hands weapon-free. the moment marc gets his hands on a knife, the fight’s over too quick (at least for bad guy #1)- and suddenly steven takes the wheel.

and then the next time there’s a knife in Marc’s hand it’s certainly not nice and shiny like it was before- no, it’s buried in bad guy #1’s gut. there’s so much more blood.

… listen i came into this ask wondering if marc and jake had different styles of fighting with weapons- with knives specifically- and walked out with too many more questions than i had answers.. Marc’s movements with the knife were. very certain and fluid- well practiced, even. and yet he seems to shy away from picking one up- he sticks to his fists.

It doesn’t help that there’s not much footage on how jake uses a knife, we just see the .. result. anyways this is for you to munch on when you find a spare thought cos i know this’ll be rotating in my brain on repeat for a goooood long while. skdjdksj byeeee

Percy, have I ever mentioned how much I love when you talk to me about House Weaponry? lsdgjskljgs ANYWAY. I have.. commentary on this.

So, in that scene on the rooftop, there's three guys he's fighting total, five knives (the particularly flashy guys are carrying two. Y'know. For funsies, I guess.) The confrontation starts with Marc being, bless his heart, more himself than we see very often. A little sassy, a lighthearted jab here and there. Oh shit, you killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. Oh. What, are we dancin'? We fightin'? What are we gonna do? He's more comfortable, the situation more familiar.

And throughout the fight, he's more focused on getting the knives out of their hands. He disarms, but he doesn't necessarily take advantage of the weapon itself. (It's something we learn in combat self defense, your best chance of survival is to take the knife out of the fight entirely.) Marc's strategy is this:

Guy #1: Dodge the first slash so the knife is already directed away from him, takes his wrist holding the second knife, forces it in the same direction so both points are no longer a threat, and uses his own momentum to push him away, falling to the ground.

Kid and Guy #2: In the time it takes Marc to land a solid kick on someone else, the kid manages a good slash against his back, distracting him from the older men. When he tries again, Marc grabs at the wrist holding the knife, twisting the joint in a way that makes it fall from his grip. It's important to note too that he hesitates for a second, striking his back with an open palm instead of a closed fist. Less pain, more jarring or surprising than anything.

Guy #1 again: He crosses the guys arms across each other, making it pretty difficult to near impossible to stab forward. He brings his knee up to strike his wrist, and so another knife falls. The second knife comes up, and Marc strikes again to the same result.

With every motion and decision Marc makes, a weapon falls to the ground. But he doesn't reach for it, not until the end. And even then he's angry, the adrenaline is pumping, he's reaching for that familiar violence, but at the last moment, Steven steps in. That's enough.

And I used to think it was so strange, because Marc's very familiar with utilizing the crescent darts when he's wearing the suit. There are multiple times he uses them to stab, to cut, to slash, in the same way a knife would be handled. So why did he seem so against taking advantage of a dropped weapon, when he was very clearly outnumbered? And then I remember this line:

Or it was just a way for me to keep being what I've always been. A killer.

And that is Marc's entire struggle with his identity as Moon Knight, isn't it? He refuses to accept that certain satisfaction he finds in his own violence, because in doing so, he thinks he's confirming everything his mother ever made him believe. He finds it easier to use those weapons wearing the armor because he thinks he can almost.. draw a line between himself and what he becomes as an Avatar. He can separate the two.

And by trying to put those different parts into neat little boxes, that is what causes him to believe he hates being Moon Knight. Because he puts all that anger and violence, those things that he hates, all in that same box. That internal conflict arises when the line becomes blurry, or it disappears entirely, like that moment on the rooftop.

#i love that bit on the rooftop because like #idk he just seems a bit less hindered by guilt #before things get too out of control it's like he feels lighter #it makes what comes after with the death and the kid so much more devastating for him #because you can see in his face how the walls come back up again #marc baby we have some things to sort through #the marc spector effect: deny and compartmentalize #iscarusholmes #asks #mk meta #long post #oof sorry #percy tag

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spearxwind · 1 year

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what do you think the strat would be like if Hades and Talas hunted together? thanks for sharing your art btw.... I was on a call and I audlibly gasped when I ran into the latest gay eel post on my dash, please never ever shut up about your OCs in general

WAHH IM SO GLAD U LIKE MY EELS!!! That means the world to me for real (for r-eel....), I will keep sharing my ocs for as long as people like u are around and interested :]

As for the question, I have been rotating it in my head for a couple days because. Ough. There's probably a bunch of strategy to it. I'm not sure if ur question was about them hunting in the water as leviathans or on land as mers just going after Some Guy so I will answer in general but feel free to send a follow up with what you were specifically asking for if I don't answer correctly here 👁

First off they each have their own wildly different strats for going after things.

Talas is an ambush kind of guy, he's freakishly stealthy for his size and has a tendency to just sneak up on people or anything in general. And coupled with his hearing he's usually able to pinpoint where things are if they have a sound to them (if something has a heartbeat he WILL know exactly where you are and there's nothing you can do about it). Above water he can also use the ice beam to freeze things in place so they cannot get away

Hades on the other hand is a pursuit kind of guy, enjoys chasing and actually meticulously hunting something down, and he's not stealthy at all. He WANTS the victim to run so he can corner them (Also people consistently see him and think they can outrun him because he's crippled, and they are so fucking wrong) And he can use his fire both as an attack (and a tool to increase panic in the victim) or even to redirect them by barring off escape routes

When they hunt together then they combine both of their strats, with hades chasing a victim around (or even acting like a lure) leading them somewhere to be struck down, and talas follows them unseen and goes towards wherever hades is leading so he can strike as soon as they are within range, essentially acting like a trap >:]c

Hades works very well with aggravating a victim and causing a panic and on the other hand talas works well with things around him lowering their guard and then striking

#ask #anon #challenger deep #the gist of it is hades leads people directly to death :)#talas #hades #yeah ill tag em

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lucky-draws · 2 years

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hi lisette. please give me your bingo opinion on REVOLVER OCELOT from METAL GEAR SOLID

hello animalscamo "grace" "weezer" snake. i will gladly give you my opinion on REVOLVER OCELOT from METAL GEAR SOLID.

UMMM SO...where do i even BEGIN....i could talk abt my precious ocie for hours xD <3 no but erm seriously good god. i've never liked a character as much as ocie before. like i dont have brainrot of this level for anyone else like i dont usually give a shit but for him? i do. he lives in my mind. there's like a little room for him inside my skull like fully furnished with a little sofa + tv for him to watch westerns on.

(gonna do a read more bc im probably going to write a novel's worth of insanity.)

i put he's a blorbo but not in an i want to fuck him way just in a he's my friend and he's a funny little man that i love to see way. i want to carry him in a handbag like a dog yes but also scrunch him up like a sheet of paper and throw him in the bin but also carry him in my pocket like a doormouse and feed him crumbs.

i put he needs more screen time bc why wasn't he in peace walker :( he should have been on that beach instead of nasty kaz :( (i am only half joking i wish he was in peace walker but it's fine i can rotate my own idea of 70s ocelot in my mind.)

i half filled in everything i like abt them isn't canon because admittedly sometimes i think about him too much in relation to big boss. big bosselot even. and in general i think i have created my own specific ocie and my own "headcanons" if i can use that word about him HOWEVER.

well. i think i've said enough really. i tried to be normal. i wasn't. there's a lot more Thoughts i have that i can't quite articulate. but yeah. um. <3

canon ocelot on his own is just a fucking epic character. like he's so cringe and funny and such a cartoon villain whilst at the same time being highly intelligent/powerful/mastermind megamind quintuple agent etc. mgs3 ocelot is so horrible and silly but it's like this contrast of. he's 19 or 20 or whatever and acts it, he acts like an insufferable brat and is so silly in his meowing and his pridefulness but then it's like. his fucking MOM who he doesn't KNOW is his mom is being fucking killed amidst all this. killed by the very same dude that he's got this insane childish crush on. it's just the ridiculous tragedy of it all for me !

also i just LOVE his mannerisms. like his finger guns/arm flourishes are so STUPID but so endearing. he's really just a joy to behold.

i put got done dirty by fans because i guess i dont like to see him uke-fied (or woobified in a way that isn't the way that i (correctly) woobify him) and made to be a blushing little maiden when he's like . not that. like even in a sort of bosselot context it's like. it's the fact that he's this cold, uncaring, double crossing spy who kills in cold blood and has a torture fetish and is just as dangerous in fact MORE DANGEROUS than big boss . and yet. his (canon basically?) motivations are because he never got over his teen crush. because somehow, throughout all his double crossing and billion different affiliations, he's doing it all for one (1) person. which. ironically. is kind of the very definition of "loyalty to the end". but while he has the intelligence to see through any need to be loyal to a country/government, or to any organisation, he doesn't have the moral desire to fight for anything or anyone good. so he fights for big boss. (AND FOR WHAT? like he doesn't even get anything for it in canon. big boss doesnt give a shit. so he's somehow "selflessly" doing all the shit he does. expecting no reward. like it's the weird martyrness of it all. big boss as the devil and ocelot as his evil apostle. idk. sorry. im not being normal.)

he also fights for himself of course because he enjoys murder and evilness and misogyny and well i mean he needs to get the money for his authentic vintage cowboy boots from somewhere and well the patriots are very rich or so ive heard. a secret billion dollars in an underground vault or something. so yeah he's simply the worst BUT he's such a fucking funny stupid meowing cowboy also . he has the RANGE!!! he deserves to rot in hell but he's also my best friend in the world and i feed him kibble.

ALSO ALSO i forgot to mention but just on a purely aesthetic like character design level i can't help but enjoy his fucking stupid dinky red scarf and gloves and cowboy drip like it's just FUN to draw him.

put simply, he is my silly boy. i guess i cannot put it more succinctly than that !

#THANK YOU AND SORRY. hehehehehe. ocie <3 <3 #thank you animals camo .#lisette mumbles

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spongyspingy-rising · 2 years

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IF you are currently rotating a dragon around in your head like a microwave, tell me everything about them! If not then just tell me everything about the dragon you love the most at this moment ^^

I lost my first version of this when my iPad died OOPS

anyway.... hard question, but I think right now it's gotta be Sana! he doesn't even have an outfit & im not sure I'm going to give him one, but. okay everyone already knows this about me already, I STARTED AS A CAT ARTIST.... for like a decade! way before I ever started drawing/rping humans. so I'm still having fun with my gijinka lore, but I've been playing around with a little offshoot bit of lore that's just completely self indulgent cat isekai.

the premise of this 'subclan' is based off the cat world in A Whisker Away (or like The Cat Returns— same idea!) where there's... either it's going to be a tavern (classic) (sorry wilde) or some other kind of pocket dimension, where when you have to be turned into a kitty to enter/when you enter. I'm either gonna do a similar idea as the talismans that Astramor uses, or play with a mask thing like the movie.

Anyway, Sana!

Sana (he/they) married into the family/clan that runs the kittydistrict, or at least largely influences it, their surname is Tailurus but they're referred to collectively as the Tailurians. there's a couple aspects im still waffling on, but basically they're a family of savannah cats!

I have a really old bunch of concept art here, I'm just recycling it:

(the blind one in the top left is a design I'm gonna be basing off to make Sana's other kid)

they married for love, and kind of had the thought that this could overcome anything— which was a REALLY big assumption to make, and did not really work out. the stress of constant harassment from the family & the alienation eventually took too big a toll on their relationship, and they split up. Sana is now dating Cooper (they're not married— Sana doesn't really want to do that again) and his ex-wife is... well, she's not particular in a better position, but I'm not sure either of them are, despite that Sana maybe has it better off.

Cooper (he/him— he's trans) has always loved Sana, they're longtime friends, and he still kind of has the impression that he loves Sana more than they love him. which isn't true, obviously, but it's a small weight on their relationship that Sana can sense and it scares him a bit. being loved is a huge responsibility, and after what happened last time, they kind of have the habit of holding on very lightly in case everything goes to shit again. which, doesn't help Cooper's feelings. particularly.

their (eventual) kid doesn't have a name, but I want to make these two a breeding pair I draw/design art for while I'm breeding for the specific colors I want. I also have Sana on a nest rn for his kid(s?) from his previous relationship, which I MIGHT make designs for and sell. hav not decided yet.

they make real good kids too.

#kal rising #fr ask game #kal art #character tag: sana #character tag: Cooper #long post #hi :)#microwaving him #aught eight lore

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bawkrya · 1 year

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Uuuh something something flag (i want to hear about cdramas)

ok HI well you caught me at the most devastating time where im fixated on the worst of the three cdramas i rotate in my brain (or ginal sin again) LOL, im going to force yall to sit down and perceive my hyperspecific version of chi zhen (my girlfriend) in my brain

SO! if you have the patience take my essay length "summary" of OS/and how i perceive it to have more context for who chi zhen is and what he does

my transgender king. and NOT in the way u wld expect. chi zhen is like. Removed from a lot of things, but i think she esp wld be for LGBT stuff & similar topics. like he didnt know what a bisexual was until one of the girls at his club explained it to him removed. If you put this man through covid 2020 lockdown he would come out trans in some way which is WHAT I DO TO HIM!

ive kind of given her my gender which is no gender but in the opposite way where hes transfem vs me being transmasc. she still aligns with more masculine things but also sophie called him her 'favorite pretty girl' as a joke once and he had to sit down and dissect the feelings it put in his brain. i literally use she/her or he/him for her depending on what flows better with the sentence in my brain.

if i do commit to the rewrite though it wld be very very subplot that IS noted, but he literally wouldnt even have time to properly think about it in depth bc hes u know, trying to kill someone, someones trying to kill him, etc............ but also for the rewrite i am wanting to do 'spinoff' where i jst invest some writing into 'downtime' story for like. character development. Filler basically but its not being injected as to prevent the rewrite from getting too long bc I Promise You It Will.

2. going 2 go over this before my actual next point i wanted to go over but this mf has autism. he wears sunglasses p much everywhere & honestly jst seems like he has a sensitivity to light. the way he goes about certain social instances in the show. and i dont think we were shown Much of how she is in the courtroom but she very much seems to be a patterns sort of person when it comes to solving situations.

also i am autistic.

3. the actual thing iwanted to go over: herspecial interest is colognes/perfumes and he can identify a VERY good portion of such jst by smelling it. i literally dont know why this is wht i chose for him but hes Definitely like insanely prissy about personal hygiene and (covers the show with my hand) dresses herself well and i just think he shld have a cologne/perfume collection.

chi zhen doesnt really have too many REAL personal belongings, hes been in jail, where he lives is very purposely hidden so he doesnt really have an Option to keep many personal items. But. I think he wld have a pretty decent collection of different cologne/perfume. which is fueled when people give him such for birthdays/holidays

i dont think she wld specifically have a preference bc different perfumes suit different people, on top of different styles of perfumes and all that. ipersonally dont know enough abt perfumes to even go in depth for it but she would kno the intricacies. She would.

its not smth he like talks abt all the time bt by god u ask him one (1) thing related to it and it can turn into a good 45 minute conversation b4 she realizes whats happening and immediately goes :| BC IT GETS HIM EMBARRASSED ........... but he likes it a lot and of the ppl who kno abt her interest they usually ask her for suggestions on it bc she likes assigning certain scents 2 people. like a planned filler scene i got is based on her getting like really suddenly angry/antsy while trying to go over a case and its literally bc lu li unexpectedly changed colognes w/o saying anything and he fucking lectures him for it

but yeah um i thikn that is all i am goign to willingly post abt publicly for my hyperspecific hcs for this guy bc 4 some reason i think the cringe police will come and kill my ass if i go into anymore depth. i lvoe this mf so fucking much i want to dissect him like you would tear off a young branch from a tree and split its bark in order to see the stringy inside

#Asks #Anonymous #idk how to tag these................... well heres my most girlypop man #that is a lie i have more girlypop characters than this but thatsok #also very very short but the majority of things im thinking abt when it comes to her is like. really weird out of context of the show #the day i find another autistic person that i can bait into watching os

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

I’ve been picking at this particular request since early December as the person who requested it had a lot of details they wanted put in making the writing process a bit more challenging. As a disclaimer, note that the chapter is split between present time and the past; with Logan recalling things in his past in an attempt to make the details requested for the story flow better. I received this request from AO3.

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

Experimental Socialization

Summary: Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be.(Happy Ending)

Warnings: allusions to abuse, physical punishment and human experimentation, tw for weapons and fire, panic attack. If there are more please let me know

Prompt; Not Used To Freedom (requested by AngstyEmoGal on AO3)

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3432

“You just gotta breathe, Logan. In four, hold seven, out eight remember? You’re doing great, just keep going.”

Logan felt himself slowly coming back to reality as his breathing evening out, the raw panic that had gripped his chest easing slightly as Virgili continued coaxing him through the exercise. He felt the other slowly rub up and down his arm in a slow, steady beat that helped ground him further in reality and he smiled up at his friend gratefully and nodded to let xem know he was okay. Gripping his knees as Virgil’s voice trailed off he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out one last calming breath.

“Thank you, Virgil. I-” He struggled to find words, gesturing flippantly in the air making Virgil grin.

“It’s okay. Take your time, L.”

Logan puffed his cheeks out in frustration, thoughts swirling too quickly for him to comprehend anything but the apprehensive fear he held for the plans Remus had made for them later that evening. “I am- not used to being outside. Given my history and the threat I pose as a potential compromise to our place of hiding I fail to understand Remus’ reasoning for going out when we could just as easily celebrate our relationship here.”

“Hm.” Virgil leaned back on xyr hands and looked up at the low ceiling of their underground paradise. “Can’t really see the stars from here, no matter how many stickers Princey finds and puts up it can't really be compared to the real thing.”

Logan had made the mistake of going on a tirade of space facts a few months into his stay in the hideout, Remus patiently listening to the extensive infodump of constellation facts and space physics and planetary rotation. Having a limited amount of books to entertain oneself with for extended periods of time meant memorizing entire books on one subject, which Logan had used all too happily as a figurative escape from his situation in the past until he had actually managed to escape when he was 16. Hearing Logan speak so passionately about the subject had apparently made his mind up that he was taking Logan outside for their first “official” date to view the stars, which had then landed Logan in his current state of panic as he realized that date was today and he was decidedly not ready for what might lay in store outside of safety of the hideout.

“I can stay close by if you want. I won’t spy or anything and Remus won’t have to know.” Logan looked over as his thoughts were interrupted by the offer, Virgil turning invisible and reappearing a couple seconds later to emphasize xyr point. Smiling Logan shook his head, knowing the other derived as much joy from going outside as Logan felt about going himself.

“Thank you for the offer though, you’re very kind.” Letting his thoughts drift again he idly wondered when Virgil had discovered xe could disappear and reappear at will and if xyr parents had tried to hide it before the government had found out. His own parents-

-----

“Logan?” A very small Logan turned at his mother’s voice, losing his concentration which made the hidden jar of Crofters fall from its suspended place in the air and smash to the floor. His parents hadn’t known he possessed any sort of powers, and even as small as he was he still understood the position he’d put them in if they ever found out. Fearfully his hands dropped to his sides as his mother covered her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took a step back.

Men in suits and long coats were there just a few hours later, speaking in hushed voices while both of his parents cried and he was ushered out the door and into an unmarked car, quiet as he understood yelling and crying would do him no good now. What’s done was done, all he could do was be compliant and hope to be treated gently.

-----

The room suddenly brightening with a flickering light brought him back out of his thoughts, Roman entering with his signature bright flame held proudly in his hand. The image of him in his rather scrapped together Princely outfit posing subconsciously in the doorway was almost enough to make Logan roll his eyes but he didn’t want Virgil to think it was because of xem so he managed to restrain himself.

“My dearest brother has been pacing in the same spot for two hours now and I haven't been able to calm him down soooo I thought to check on our resident nerd.” Roman declared with his usual flare. Logan actually did roll his eyes this time but Virgil did as well so he figured it was fine.

“The ‘resident nerd’ is doing fine, Roman. Though it's concerning to hear Remus is nervous as well considering he’s the one who suggested the date.”

Roman waved his hand at Logan dismissively. “He’s just a sap- moreso than me surprisingly. He doesn’t want to do anything to put you in danger but he wants to do something nice, so he’s worried that’s all. Remus is an idiot but I trust him with my life; believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about except his terrible sense of humor.”

Logan merely hummed in response, staring at the way the flame moved around as Roman gestured with his words.

-----

He panted as he rolled out of the way of another flamethrower, singeing the tips of his hair in the process but he couldn’t afford to slow down enough to worry about that. Years of training with different fighting styles had earned him incredibly fast reflexes but a good portion of his accuracy in knowing where to step and when was owed to him working even harder to focus his powers. Thoughts from others constantly surrounded him on a regular basis, getting more and more prevalent the older he grew. Learning to block out the constant string of stimuli was a useful skill to keep him sane but learning to hone in on specific thoughts to predict actions was what had kept him alive.

He ducked below another bullet and brought up his leg in the same motion, kicking a throwing knife to the side and sending it to clatter harmlessly between one of his assailants feet. A twirl to the side and a tilt of the head let another bought of flame boil the air beside him while another knife just barely brushed his ear. The constant bang of bullets and roar of flames and whistling of knives was overwhelming and made the air so thick he could barely draw a breath and it was becoming a struggle to concentrate the way he needed to and-

A high pitched alarm sounded one, twice, three times- a blaring flash accompanying it that left him blinking painfully. His shoulders slumped as the barrage finally ended, another successful training day completed. He watched as everyone began putting their weapons away, laughing and congratulating each other, clapping themselves on the back and discussing whatever they had planned after this. No one even spared the thing they had been firing at seconds before a spare glance, save for the director of the branch, who took long steps forward to stand in front of him only to snap his fingers and motion forward no doubt to see him back to his room until dinner. Absorbing the sounds around him he drank in as much praise as he could that wasn’t his and would never be for him; people rarely congratulated weapons after all.

-----

“Is this where we all decided to hide today?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross legged on one one of the beams in the ceiling, grinning happily down at them even as their fluffy ears twitched nervously and even fluffier tail whipped back and forth in agitation. They must have come back from trying to calm Remus as well, Logan mused; Patton had never done well being in the same room as Remus who tended to voice his thoughts abruptly and without much care to how they might sound to others which always managed to set Patton on edge no matter how hard they tried not to show it.

Patton was a rare mutant in that as opposed to being born with abnormal traits or abilities they had been a science experiment from the start- an effort to create super soldiers rather than stealing them away from families and training them. Even rarer was the fact that the DNA splicing had taken extraordinarily well by pure chance as Patton was born with a mutation that left their DNA incredibly malleable- a mutation that never would have been discovered had cellular manipulation not been the reason for them being in the experimental branch that they were. They had tried cloning Patton at first to see if their power could be duplicated but when that failed to work they began trying to combine them with different animals to see if desirable traits would come forward. By manipulating them on a physical and anatomical level they were able to change some parts of them to be more cat like, intending, Patton had guessed, to turn them into a kind of stealth soldier but they got away before they completed it, leaving them with heightened agility and surgically coaxed cat ears and a tail. They were only a child when the lab had done this but somehow they were never bitter, simply preferring to leave their past alone and embrace whatever future they could make- a trait Logan greatly admired them for even if their unending optimism could be somewhat grating at times.

“Did Janus brush your tail out Pat? It looks fluffier today.” Patton preened at Virgil's compliment, their tail beginning to wave in a more relaxed manner as their mind was distracted from whatever it was Remus had been ranting about.

“He did! He found a cat brush and got it for me so I could finally get the undercoat out!” Jumping down and landing lightly on their feet they posed a little and flashed another wide grin.

“Beautiful as always, Patton.” Roman said genuinely as he lowered his hand into a barrel to light up the paper scraps and wood in it for the night, the dim sunlight that had filtered through the grated having long since died. The home was a modified branch of a sewer system, thankfully the part most removed from the city where it flowed without the stench and was sealed off inconspicuously enough that in the ten years Janus and Remus had been using it no worker had ever found it.

-----

It had been Janus and Remus who had found him, beaten and bloody from an escape attempt he had made just days before his real one. He had made a weak attempt to coax the scientists into a false sense of security, holding back the full scoop of his powers during training for a year in anticipation for his final escape. He had punished severely but had simply thrown him in his regular cell, assuming he wasn’t strong enough to do any more damage than they had seen him do already and trusting that they had beaten him down enough that it would be a while before he tried again- if he ever did. Not six days later the mangled metal of the front of his cell was tossed into a group of guards, walls torn apart in a straight line to the exit and the huge buzzing gates leading to the outside world thrown open wide and stuck there with varying amounts of heavy debris.

The outside world, as it turns out, was a lot bigger and louder and downright terrifying when you weren’t being sent out as a personal assassin or field missions or training sessions- all controlled on some level to keep him from being killed and compromised. Without the begrudged protection from the labs and moreover having to hide from said lab was another story entirely. The times they searched for him and how closely they came to his spots were random and made it incredibly hard for him to pick out their thoughts from anyone else’s in the city and figure out how close they were. On more than one occasion they passed right by him crouched under piles of garbage or laying low under a hedge, his breath held as he tried desperately to keep himself as still and quiet as possible, thoughts of what they would to him once they found him pounding against his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep his terrified tears from falling.

That was how Remus had found him. It had been dark and hours had passed since the searchers had left that park he had been hiding in. He had still been hiccuping down his sobs as he rolled out from under the hedge that he hadn’t bothered to scope the area for anyone’s close by thoughts, having shut out as much as he could after they had left to try and block out any other hate fueled thoughts that may send him spiraling again. His heart had leapt in his throat so high his breath caught painfully, immediately shifting to offense as he tensed, ready to fight as long and hard as he could. He couldn’t go back- he wouldn’t. No matter what they did or promised him or punished him with; he’d go down fighting or not at all.

But Remus had only raised his hands in the air in a motion of peace, eyes widening as he locked onto the government issued bracelet that marked him as an experimental mutant. He had grinned impossibly wide then Logan remembered, briefly disappearing from his sight and reappearing a moment later, setting him even more on edge but curious nonetheless.

“I’m like you.” Remus had said quietly. “Basically I run real fast and the government hasn’t figured out how to get me yet.”

Logan had watched as he jiggled his wrists a bit for emphasis, bare save for colored chords that he assumed didn’t associate him with any government branch since they didn’t look official.

“Are you okay?” Remus had asked next and mutely Logan nodded, unsure of how to react to this fellow mutant who had never been caught by any sort of lab, apparently living as free as one could when you were as different as they were. He stepped back as another man appeared behind him, Janus he later learned.

“Liar.” Janus had hissed, making Remus reach around and smack the back of his head.

“It was a polite thing to ask that he tried to dismiss Jan. Let the adults speak for a second.”

Logan had noted the faint pout on Janus’ face though he was still trying very hard to look intimidating. And then all at once his eyes had turned cold as his attention was once again focused on Logan, glaring menacingly from beneath a black bowler hat. “I’m younger than you and yet I’m the one that has to put my foot down. He’s being chased clearly; we are not bringing him back with us.”

Remus has turned, Logan seemingly forgotten for the moment. “That’s not how it works! He needs help and we’re not leaving him to starve or be found in the middle of a park! What would Patton say?”

“Patton is a soft fool who needs to figure out where their morals stand. I myself am choosing not to compromise our place of hiding and three other people that you know those power hungry idiots would love nothing more than to get their hands on!”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard his head had lolled with it, face going pale as he watched something in the sky. It was then that Logan heard the telling sound of a helicopter flying low and getting closer but he had barely tensed before he found himself gripped around the middle and held vertically with the ground flying underneath him. They stopped abruptly and he was set down, blinking in rapid confusion as Remus grinned sheepishly at him.

“Welcome to the hideout?”

Logan’s eyes had widened and his breath had caught yet again, chest tightening as he shook his head vehemently. “You can’t- I need to go back! They’ll do anything to get me back-!”

He was stopped from going forward with a finger to his chest, his blue eyes locking with beautiful brown as Remus held his gaze. “And we will do everything to keep you safe.”

Safe. With that one word Logan was his. He hadn’t known why and he still didn’t quite understand it but he had trusted Remus with everything he had- and he still did. Even as Janus had stalked off grumbling and Virgil and Roman had kept their distance at first Remus had kept him close and showed him how much better his life could be, even if they were living in a modified sewer system.

Back in the present he looked up as a hand was thrust under his chin, smiling softly as he took Remus’ hand and let himself be led away from the others’ idle chatter. He counted himself extremely lucky in the end that Janus had eventually come around to him, seeing how happy he made Remus and how Remus made Logan feel it had been him to finally talk to Logan about it and get the two to officially talk about how they felt, going on about the being “hopeless gay idiots” when they had finally started to date officially. Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do without Remus at this point, just a year later and he was so attached to their small group of hideaways he wouldn’t trade for the world.

They approached the exit to the sewers, Remus swinging their hands between them. Logan held his breath right before they crossed the threshold, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly as his feet met grass and he opened his eyes to the darkened field. There were a few tunnels that lead out to different places depending on where they needed to go and this, Remus had told him, was his favorite because of how empty it was. The city lay far in the distance so there was almost no light pollution to block out the sky. Soft grass and flowers brushed his ankles as he scanned the area carefully, seeing nothing but trees lining the far end of the field with a road so far away he could barely, make it out in the darkness. Remus tugged his hand softly to get his attention, searching his eyes for any hint of discomfort.

“Is this okay?’

Logan took another breath and let it out, the last of his nerves fading away as he took in the quiet. “It’s perfect Remus.”

The other grinned and tugged a little harder this time, walking fast to the middle of the field where he stopped suddenly and raised Logan’s arm up to lead him into an impromptu twirl. Logan laughed quietly and then louder as he was dipped, secure in Remus’ strong hold as he reached up to grip the back of his neck. He was safe. He was free and safe and happy finally with someone who truly loved and cared for him. His breath caught in his throat again but this time in awe, Remus chuckling as he was laid down carefully tucked into his side, till with his arms around his neck.

The stars shone bright and winked lazily while swirls of color dusted faintly behind them. The moon was waning, a barely there light that let the beauty behind it show fully as the wind whisked away any clouds that dared to try and cover it. It was everything Logan had ever hoped it would be and more, excitement thrumming through him as he squeezed Remus tightly in an attempt to convey it. He felt Remus grin against his scalp where his face was buried in his hair.

“It’s beautiful isn't it?”

Logan looked back at him, light from the stars reflected in his eyes and wild brown hair framing his face. He leaned up slightly and kissed him, a faint brush of their lips that left them both grinning like the idiots they were. Placing a hand on Remus’ cheek Logan smiled at him, thumb brushing over his cheek in adoration.

“Absolutely stunning.”

This work and others are also available on AO3!

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vennilavee · 4 years

Text

to build a home - ch 1

beyond the drapes

attack on titan masterlist

ch 2 - a girl in a bar

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.

Warnings: cursing, suggestive themes

Word Count: 3787

A/N: im so excited to explore levi’s character in this setting!! this story will be a series of moments in no sequential order. in this modern au, the walls still exist, as does the underground district. the only thing modern about it is the technology and culture lolol ENJOY

*** This day is bound to be a long one- it’s only 10 AM and you’ve already been in back to back meetings with several of donors for the foundation. You’ve been in meetings for the last three and a half hours, your toasted bagel now cold and your second cup of coffee now empty. You sigh and roll your shoulders back, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

These rich types would be the death of you. But Erwin had specifically asked you to handle the rich donors. As if Hange or Levi would be able to sit through even one of these ass-kissing phone calls. You can hear sugary sweetness dripping off of your tongue with practiced patience and you hardly recognize it. It’s an out of body experience. As words are rolling off your tongue, you wonder how Levi would fare with this responsibility.

He’d complain the whole time and then tell the person on the other end of the video call to fuck off and get their heads out of their asses. The thought makes you scoff and you clear your throat to cover the sound.

Erwin knew your strengths and weaknesses as individuals and a team, and you were grateful for such an insightful boss and friend.

Once you seal the third donation of the morning, you take your headset off and rub your temples. You’re glad you’re free until noon, giving you some time to catch up on emails and catch up with your colleagues and friends. The drapes in your office were drawn back, illuminating your office in a faint sunny glow. Today, the sun was hiding behind the clouds so it wasn’t terribly bright.

And yes, you had drapes in your office. They were a midnight blue with threads of gold embroidered throughout. Everyone else had normal blinds, but you had seen these drapes while window shopping years ago for this new office and you knew it belonged. Something about the blue and gold made you feel royal and regal. As if this was yours and yours only.

That didn’t mean that Levi didn’t tell you how stupid your drapes were and how stupid you were at least once daily- “You think this is a stupid castle or something? You hear yourself?”

To which you would prompt reply, “if this was a castle, you’d be the damn gargoyle in front. The one that scares everyone away.”

And then he’d just ‘tch’ at you and roll his eyes.

What an ass.

You’re growing restless, so you lock your computer and get up to stretch your muscles for a few minutes. Sitting for hours at a time does a number on you in ways that you’d never expect- your shoulders sometimes hurt, your lower back, even your ass.

Maybe you need a better seat and desk setup, you muse. Walking down the hallway with your cold bagel in your left hand, you rotate your right shoulder and wince. You pass several of the new hires, Eren and Jean who seem to be bickering amongst themselves but straighten up and say ‘good morning’ to you as you pass them. You give them a smile and a wave, continuing on your way.

You stop by Hange’s office, where her door is wide open and papers are strewn all over the place. She’s viciously typing on her computer as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose in between each word. Her hair is in disarray and you sigh when you knock on her door.

“Hange,” You call, “Did you stay up all night again?”

“Huh? No way,” Hange gasps, looking at the time, “I just got caught up with things! You know- I’m this close to finishing this grant proposal! Look how much money we’re gonna get outta them! They won’t know what hit ‘em-”

“Hange,” You say firmly, “I’m calling you a cab to go home. Go to sleep. I don’t trust you to drive home, considering you’ve been up all night.”

“What?! I can drive-”

“Hange!” You interrupt her, “I’m serious! Come back tomorrow. Take it easy.”

She slumps in her chair in defeat and removes her glasses, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. “Oh alright. I guess I’m a little tired.”

“See you tomorrow, Hange,” You salute and point to your phone, “Cab’s on it’s way.”

With that, you make your way further down the hallway and come to a stop in front of Levi’s office. You knock and immediately open the door without allowing a moment of rest in between.

“What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to barge in?” Levi asks, eyes still on his computer screen.

“It’s much more dramatic, and we both know you would’ve left me waiting. Because you’re an ass,” You reply good-naturedly, sliding into the seat in front of his desk and propping your legs up on his desk. Your shoes are in his face and he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“To what do I owe this most shitty pleasure?” Levi says, eyes narrowed at your bagel, “You here to ruin my office? Last time you were here I had to spend an hour cleaning it-”

You bite your tongue at the response you want to provide to that.

“No reason. Just have been on calls all morning. Was bored,” You shrug and wince at the slight shoulder movement.

Levi quirks an eyebrow at you but says nothing. He continues typing away, seemingly ignoring you as you munch on your half of the bagel. Once you’re finished with it, he throws a banana at you wordlessly. You fail to hide your smile.

“You’ll get hungry in about an hour with that shitty bagel. And then I’ll have to hear about it,” Levi says tonelessly, eyes trained on you. You roll your eyes at him and peel your banana.

“So you gave me this banana to shut me up?”

“Yes, it’s in my own best interest.”

A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. You eye the snow globe that you had gotten him for Christmas and his birthday on his shelf. It looks as if you had purchased it for him yesterday, when in reality it was over five years old. His office is as clean as ever, just like him.

“That’s a nice shirt,” You murmur, eyes raking over him shamelessly, “Who’s the lucky person who bought it for you?”

And honestly, he wants to do something about the smug smirk on your face. But instead he just stares at you, face as impassive as ever. His hair falls into his eyes with a practiced poise. You see the corners of his lips turn up, nearly daring to give you something resembling a smile.

“What makes you think I didn’t buy it myself?”

“Come on, Levi. You and I both know your sense of style is… questionable most times.”

“My sense of style? You really want to talk about your shitty drapes?” Levi asks, but you sense no malice in his voice.

“My drapes? Wouldn’t you like to know if the curtains match the drapes-”

“I can’t think of anything worse to know.”

You gasp in indignation, hand to your heart. “Don’t be such an ass!”

“Then don’t be such a brat!”

“Ugh,” You groan, standing up from your seat and making sure there are no crumbs falling off of you, “I have actual work to do, Ackerman. Quit wasting my time.”

“Door’s right there, sweetheart,” Levi says nonchalantly, looking back down at his planner and not sparing you a second glance.

“See you soon, handsome,” You call, turning back to wave at him and he gifts you with an upturn of his lips.

***

The Survey Corps was a nonprofit organization run by Erwin Smith and the mission of the organization was to find and provide educational resources and mentoring to the youths in the city. Specifically, the mission was to show kids who grew up in the shadows that they could have a life outside of the shadows and in the light with the help of the Survey Corps.

That’s not to say that the Survey Corps had all of the answers and all of the funds to fix the poverty in the walls. But your team tried their hardest to help the kids. Because the kids were the future.

As an organization, you had done some pretty amazing things and had some pretty amazing connections. The Survey Corps had been successful in launching many partnerships and setting up afterschool programs for the kids to find their interests. It was the kind of work that made you feel fulfilled and driven.

Not to mention, that you worked with some of the best people. Despite everyone’s differences, everyone had a clear shared passion for helping the kids of the city.

You truly loved your job, and everyone around you did as well. Ever since Erwin had promoted you to Director of Impact all those years ago and had seen your capabilities, you had really been able to thrive.

Bringing those new kids on board was your idea for the most part- Levi had complained the whole time, asking why they needed a separate youth outreach group when Erwin’s original team wasn’t even that old.

You had kindly told him that you weren’t teenagers anymore and hadn’t been in two decades. He had glared at you but nodded in agreement.

The rest of your afternoon was relatively free, you were just finishing up a few project ideas for outreach and catching up with some of the new kids.

You should probably stop calling them kids, you think dryly. They’re all in their early twenties, fresh faced and eager. Besides Mikasa- she’s almost as neutral as Levi is, with similar eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re distantly related.

You rotate your shoulder again and massage it lightly with a wince. Damn, your right shoulder has been aching over the last week. Maybe you needed a real massage. Or a new chair.

You send all of your emails out quickly with your shoulder beginning to throb in pain as minutes go by.

Death by the office.

You tell Jean and Connie to meet you in the break-out room for your quick catch-up, unable to take sitting at your desk for much longer. You bring a notebook and a pen with you to the break-out room and wait for them to arrive.

They sit across from you with their stainless steel water bottles in front of them. They’re chatting animatedly, telling you about their ideas and their plans of all the good they can bring to the kids within the walls. Their shared enthusiasm makes you smile.

You start taking notes on their ideas, already thinking of ways to bring them to life. You groan softly as your hand cramps up from the pain in your right shoulder and neck shooting down your arm.

Jean calls your name and you look up.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“Obviously she’s in pain!” Connie exclaims indignantly, “Sorry about him. He likes to state the obvious.”

“I’ll be alright. My shoulder is just- acting up today…” You trail off and rotate it, “Anyway, I like your ideas. Keep it up, I love the enthusiasm. And don’t try to out maneuver each other either.”

You look pointedly at Jean who gives you a look of innocence.

“We’re a team,” You murmur.

“Captain still calls us interns,” Connie blurts out and you can’t help but let out a laugh. That they still call Levi their Captain, because he’s so rigid with them and that he still calls them interns.

“I’ll talk to Captain grump,” You reassure them, “He calls you interns out of affection.”

“Affection? From Captain Levi? Pff,” Jean scoffs, crossing his arms.

“You’d be surprised, Jean.”

***

Levi catches your soft whistle of pain as you slide the straps of your backpack over your shoulders. He wordlessly stands behind you and pushes the straps of your arm and carries your backpack for you instead. He gives you his phone and keys to hold on to and you give him a smile in return.

He walks you to the car in silence, opening the door for you and waiting for you to get in. Levi catches your grimace and soft exhale once more as you shift in the seat.

“You told Hange to go home?” Levi asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” You nod, “She was here all night again. I don’t know how it gets past Erwin, but I told her to come back after she’s rested.”

Levi nods, eyes trained on the road in front of him. One hand on the steering wheel and one on his thigh. After a moment of staring off into the setting sun, you feel Levi’s hand slide into yours and his thumb rub against yours. His gaze hasn’t shifted, but you can see the light in the corner of his eyes.

He has let his hair and his scruff grow out a little longer than he usually likes- is he distracted? You can’t recall the last time his hair has been this long, but you like it. You make a mental note to ask him about it once you get home.

But as always, Levi can feel your eyes on him.

“Why are you staring?” He asks bluntly.

“Just lookin’ at your ugly mug,” You say nonchalantly, not missing the way his lips quirk up.

“You’ve been with this ugly mug for the last six years,” Levi says dryly, “And what does that say about you?”

“That I have good taste,” You beam at him and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“You’re a brat.”

“You’re an ass.”

You squeeze his hand and watch the planes of his face imperceptibly relax. He wonders how long your shoulder has been bothering you like this. You had mentioned a few times over the last week that it was an odd sort of ache, but today, it seemed like you were in a lot of pain. He’ll ask you about it when you get home.

Home. The space he’s shared with you for the last three and a half years. Levi thinks about that often. He thinks about being a rough, underground kid with nothing but dirt and danger to his name. He wonders if that kid would’ve ever dreamed of living a life like this. He often thinks about Erwin finding him so young and pledging to help him and help kids like him.

Levi often thinks about you. You, who had offered him nothing but laughs and coffee when he had nothing to give. You, who offered your shoulder when he didn’t have the strength to ask. You, who found a crack in his armor of steel and buried yourself next to him despite his roughness.

You.

Even now, he still wonders from time to time if you are aware of the extent of his adoration for you. But when you look at him in that soft way of yours, in that way that’s only reserved for him, he thinks you do.

***

Levi hears your pained gasp from the kitchen and then a call of his name. He sees you standing in your underwear, clutching your right shoulder with creased eyebrows.

“Levi,” You murmur, “Will you help me out of this shirt?”

Levi hums and brushes his knuckles over your neck gently.

“Lift your arms up for a second. This would be easier if this shirt was a button up rather than this shitty material,” He mutters, “This might hurt for a sec.”

He hears your sharp inhale and exhale as he pulls your top off. Levi pulls out one of his own shirts that has now become your sleep shirt and a pair of his shorts for you. He’s quick and precise in his movements, unclasping your bra easily and tugging his shirt over your head. He even helps you into his shorts and you press a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

Levi rubs your shoulder gingerly, eyes cast over you in concern.

“Go sit on the couch,” Levi murmurs, “I think we still have some of that medicinal paste my mom gave us. The one that’s supposed to help with pains like this. Your shoulder is tight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s tight,” You wink at him and he shakes his head, patting your hair.

You’re tempted to follow Levi to the kitchen but refrain when he shoots you a look. Instead, you settle on the couch, stretching your legs out.

“Took you long enough,” You grumble, scooting up on the couch for him to lay behind you.

“It took me two minutes. Did you lose your sense of time as well?” Levi murmurs, pulling you into his chest.

You hum, already feeling yourself relax and take his hand in yours. Levi pulls the right side of your shirt down a little to examine your shoulder. He presses a finger to your upper neck and you hiss once his fingers press a little lower. He continues his examination, trying to figure out exactly where you’re in pain.

“Gonna give you a massage,” Levi says, “Might hurt at first. It’ll feel nice after. You can hold my hand if it does.”

“Thanks for your permission, honey,” You roll your eyes but clasp his free hand in yours once more.

His fingers are steady, gentle but firm against your skin. Levi whispers words to you, words of his day, words of what he thinks of the new interns. You correct him for the millionth time, reminding him that they’re not interns anymore. They’re employees now, part of the team. He scoffs but it pulls a laugh from you.

And then you gasp sharply when Levi’s hand prods at a knot. You squeeze his hand reflexively but after a few soothing touches, the pain washes away and the knot dissolves. Levi continues to rub your muscles and you lean further into his chest, your eyes closed in bliss.

He maneuvers you so as to not disturb you too much and spreads the topical analgesic on your shoulder, leaving your skin exposed. So that the medicine doesn’t spread on your shirt.

“Good?” Levi asks, rubbing your other shoulder. You nod, peering up at him and pecking his lips in gratitude. You try to deepen the kiss, try to rake your fingers through his hair the way he likes, but he turns his cheek.

“You’re gonna waste the medicine. It’ll stick to your shirt rather than your shoulder.”

“Seriously?” You groan.

“Blame your shitty shoulder,” Levi says and you glare at him.

“Take my shirt off then.”

“It’ll stick to your shirt when I take it off. Don’t be stupid.”

“Wow, you really thought this through,” You grumble, settling back into his chest and hoping the medicine absorbs quickly. He gives you a rare smile and kisses your forehead, his hand snaking under your shirt to rub your belly, his fingertips at your ribcage. The way he knows you like.

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. But you didn’t mind though. You were patient, and he was worth it. He was an immensely private person and while he was never ashamed of you- the thought had never even struck his mind- he preferred to keep his business within the walls of your home. Even at work, Erwin often teased both of you that he could hardly tell that you were in a long term relationship with the way you two bickered with each other and the general lack of PDA. But Hange, bless her, would scold Erwin for being so dense-

How can you not tell? They argue like a married couple!

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. He can remember when the mere act of looking at you had proven to be too much sometimes. And somehow, you always knew when he needed space. When it got to be too much. It had even taken you a long time to touch him like this. He was unlike anyone you had ever met in every way. You’re certain from the way you fit within the spaces of his arms that this is where you were meant to be.

Something gentle settles in your cheeks, in the way you blink at him, in the way you’re stroking his undercut. He very nearly purrs at the touch but still-

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” You reply, not missing his ‘tch’ in response, “Your hair’s getting long…”

You run your fingers through his dark, silky strands and leave a trail of burning embers in your wake. You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, head tilting into your hand slightly. His grown out stubble prickles your hand and you push yourself closer to him.

“Something on your mind?” You murmur, “You never go this long without a haircut. Or a shave.”

“Testing something out,” Levi says vaguely and you hum.

“Whatever you say, honey,” You reply, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll hurt yourself if you think too much.”

“Noted. Thanks for looking out for me, Levi,” You say dryly, poking his chest.

“Someone has to,” Levi mutters, “Think you need a new chair at work. You’ve always had a shitty chair. Or maybe you need a standing desk. I’ll build you one.”

You’re barely listening, eyes beginning to flutter closed and you hum in agreement. Levi is just so warm, it’s no surprise that you’re asleep in just a few minutes. Your breaths are steady against his arm as you shift a little to turn on your side. You must be tired. Levi grabs the book he’s currently reading from the coffee table, drapes a blanket over you and rubs your back as you fall into a deeper sleep.

As he reads, he can’t really focus on the words on the page. He’s busy thinking about you, and how easily you grew to trust him and to love him. Despite how long it took for him to even realize that what he felt towards you was trust and love. Levi thinks back to the kid from the Underground. That kid is still him, and he remembers the faint desire to have a semblance of this life. To feel the sun against his face, the wind in his hair. To be unabashedly himself.

And somehow, not even the freeing feeling of the sun on his face and the wind in his hair can compare to your velvet touch on his skin.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagines #snk imagines

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hamburgerhelpersotherhand · 4 years

Text

Infatuation P1

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Casual Joe thoughts and stalking/watching from afar

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic... and I chose Netflix’s YOU of all things. This doesn’t specifically take place anywhere on any timeline, but know that Joe and Love are together. I don’t know if I should continue this but I felt like it needed to be posted.

There you were.

You are currently Love’s favourite customer and, as I watch you, I can’t begin to see why.

You’re not really interested in what’s on display, are you? You come in every day, glance around as if you’ve never seen the place, and slowly make your way to the front counter.

You don’t even say anything when you find yourself waiting alone, but you do toy with the bell charm on your bag. It’s almost like a replacement for your own voice.

You know, by the way you’re looking around, it almost seems like you’re searching for something... or someone. Should I feel threatened? You come in three times a week and hog Love’s attention like a spoiled kid.

Now you’re checking the time on your phone. Do you have somewhere else you have to be? Relax, Y/N, you’re just in Anavrin.

“Y/N, can you proof read this for me?” Forty walks into frame with his phone in hand, saving you from your awkward wait.

I click my pen and pretend to be taking inventory.

“I don’t know, I’m waiting for Love.” You say quietly. I almost didn’t catch that.

The conversation seemed to stop and I glance up to see Forty’s lips puckered. He’s thinking.

“Well, I don’t see her anywhere and it’ll only take a minute.” He continued suddenly. “Please, please, please?”

A little annoying, I will admit. But his request doesn’t feel like something you’d turn down-and I already spot you nodding your head. He hands you his phone and you begin to read.

Your lips are pursed and your eyes are moving back and forth. Either you’re a fast reader or Forty used a very large font size. Do you read often? Your bag looks big enough to hold a couple books.

You’re very petite, reserved and seem like just the type to secretly enjoy a steamy romance novel. As they say, It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

“Sorry for the wait, someone left one of the spice caps loose and I had to clean the mess.” Love steals your attention away from Forty’s phone. He’s quick to take the device back from you. He looks frustrated.

“Oh, it’s alright! Forty was keeping me company.” You say, but Forty is already walking away- more specifically, walking towards me.

My attention is momentarily taken away from you while I look down and pretend to examine the books that came in this morning.

“Hey old sport, can you proof read this?”

I look at him, his phone, and then glance towards Love. He seems to notice and also glances back.

“Hey, Love has her friends and I have mine.” He snaps his fingers infront of my face and I look at him. “Right now is friend time and your creepy silence is not allowed.”

“I-“ before I can even get two words out, he’s got his phone in my face and an expectant look in his eye.

It had been a long day of enduring an earful from Forty. He’s passionate for his craft of the week, I’ll give him that.

But you... you left hours ago, yet you were still on my mind.

Love and you were in the back kitchen and I knew. Love doesn’t just take anyone into the kitchen, especially not a customer... no. You’re much more than that. Aren’t you, Y/N?

You two prepared a lunch together, as you did every time you found yourself at Anavrin.

“Will, I’m planning a ‘get together’ on Friday.” Love snapped me out of my expressionless daze. “In all seriousness, I just want to relax with some friends at home. Will you be there?”

“That depends, am I invited?” I reply with a quirked smile and an innocent look in my eye.

“Of course you are! Come over around 3, I’ll need help with dinner.” She doesn’t actually need help with preparing dinner, but I can tell she’d prefer the extra set of hands.

“I’ll be there.” I smile, a real genuine one too.

This is a nice conversation and all, but I want to find out more about you, Y/N. “While dinner is on the table, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab lunch with me tomorrow?” Im asking this because I know you’re coming in for your secret lunch dates with Love. This question is just the bait I need to get a conversation going.

“Oh. I don’t know about that. I kind of have plans with Y/N during my lunch break.” Bingo. Just what I wanted to hear. Well, not really but you get the point.

“Y/N... Is that... the...uhh...” This is all an act. I’m pretending to search for the name, but she’s never actually mentioned you to me directly before.

“She’s a customer.” Love says. Downplaying the meaning behind your relationship and keeping it professional? Are you two hiding something or am I just losing it?

“Is she the girl with the bell on her bag? There was a girl jingling something on her bag around noon.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely her.” Love nods. I like how reserved she’s being, despite feeling a bit frustrated that I couldn’t find out more. It’s almost like Love is tempting me to find you on my own.

“I guess lunch can wait then. I’ll be looking forward to dinner on Friday.”

Love leans forward and gives me one of her softest kisses. I return the action and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

My thoughts almost naturally start to drift to you again.

It’s another day at Anavrin, but I don’t see you anywhere.

Love is in the back kitchen, lost in her own cooking trance as per usual. She looks very beautiful with that focused look on her face.

But where are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago and yet, there’s no sign of you.

At least, not until I start to hear that little chime on your bag.

“Thank you for the input. I might not do anything with what you said, but I’ll definitely consider it.” That’s right... Forty knows you too. He’s talking about his story again and you seem interested. I can’t tell if you’re genuinely into it or just being nice.

When you come into view, Love looks up and spots you. You don’t notice her right away, but she smiles in your direction.

I spot your lips moving but I can’t make out what you’re saying. Damn it, Y/N. You have to get out of that mumbling habit.

Forty takes a sip of his drink and nods in response. Before I know it, you’re both going your separate ways: Forty hovers around some books while you go towards the back kitchen.

I look back to Love and see her eyes staring right at me. She’s looking with an unreadable expression... then she smiles, waves, and I wave back with a smile of my own.

I remember Forty and turn around.

“I kind of don’t like the placement of these.” Forty rotates a finger around the display. I ignore his statement.

“Who’s that girl?” I look towards the back kitchen. “I see her come in like every day but she doesn’t say a word.”

He seems to think for a bit as he spins whatever remains of his drink with his reusable straw.

“That’s Y/N.” I wait for him to continue. “She’s an old friend of Love’s. Y/N is back in LA and I guess Love just wants to spend time with her.”

“Who is she to you?” It only feels natural that I ask this. Forty seems to trail behind you, but it could be because you’re a recognizable face.

“I took her out on a date once.” He sips his drink. “Then she pretty much ghosted everyone when she moved.”

Now that... that makes me curious... I now want to dive deeper than I would have, if just to find out why you ghosted Love of all people. She’s good for you, she’s good for everyone.

There’s always the possibility you moved away with family, but I’d like to believe there’s a better story in there somewhere.

I think it’s time to see how reserved you really are, Y/N.

#you #love quinn #joe goldberg #poly #polyamory #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader #short story #oneshot #fanfiction #joe goldberg x reader #love quinn x reader #forty quinn #forty quinn x reader

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farfromtommy · 4 years

Text

better than this (dad!chris evans)

summary: a little insight into life as a parent with chris throughout the years

warnings: talk of preterm labor but nothing graphic or major

word count: 2,250

A/N: okay so like this idea came to me at 2 am and wrote it till about 5 in the morning and im crying at the softness. totally unedited and posted bc im so obsessed with it. i havent written in this kind of format before but i loved loved loved it. i was also thinking while writing this to do this but for steve rogers and i swear i lost my mind. if you guys are interested in something like that id love to write this but for steve <3

masterlist

add yourself to my taglist here!

After meeting through some mutual friends you fell in love with each other. Chris swore he would have married you after your first date. A ring came about a year and a half later, Chris not wanting to call you anything but his wife for any longer. One dream wedding and a month-long honeymoon around the world, you were Mrs. Y/N Evans.

The conversation about kids came fairly early in the relationship. Him coming from a big family, he wanted the same for himself. He wanted a big house in the Massachusetts suburbs, the white picket fence, a couple of dogs, and the kids. He wanted to come home from work being attacked by a couple of kids and seeing you walking towards him barefoot and pregnant.

You were an only child to divorced parents, growing up mostly on your own. You never saw yourself as a mom, but always loved the idea of running after a couple of kids. Never wanting to bring a child into the kind of world you grew up in. The sad and lonely kind of world you endured most of your life. After meeting his family after a couple of months of dating and seeing the way he interacted with his nieces and nephews, you couldn’t help but hope to see yourself raising some kids with him.

He loved the idea of raising a family with you.

Grayson Christopher Evans

You brought your first child into the world not too long after your wedding.

You were in labor for about 16 hours before you were met with the screams of a baby boy.

Your baby boy.

He cried and cried until his skin met yours, calming him down almost instantly. Looking over at Chris who was at an absolute loss for words at the little person calming himself with the sound of your heartbeat. He looked at you for a while before looking back at his baby boy.

Chris couldn’t quite process the feelings he felt that night his son was born. He knew how much he loved you. You knew how much you loved him. But having this little person as a tangible expression of your love and commitment for each other was just beyond him. It was beyond anyone.

Grayson was just like his dad. Almost an exact copy of him if you were being honest. The same big blue eyes. The same soft brown hair. The same everything. Lisa often said how much Grayson was just like Chris was when he was a kid. There was little of you visible in him. Maybe he had the curve of your nose and the shape of your lips. But he was all Chris.

His little personality bubbling since day one. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect baby. He giggled as much as he could and played until he fell asleep with a toy in his hand. You were so lucky to have been gifted this little boy as your first baby. Chris had been struggling to balance work and his responsibility to you and Grayson but never failed to make sure you knew how loved you both were, even from thousands of miles apart.

Eleanor Olivia Evans

After another long labor, you welcomed a little girl into your new family of 4. A tiny little girl who, just like your boy once did, calmed themselves down at the sound of your heart and the warmth from your body. Chris once again sat there just absolutely beside himself at the sight of the love of his life with his little girl on your chest.

Introducing Eleanor, or Ellie, to Grayson was probably one of the greatest moments of your life. Chris walked in with Grayson in his arms telling him that we needed to use our indoor voices when talking to mommy and the baby. Grayson quickly climbed to sit right next to you, not bearing even 1 day away from you. You hugged your little boy and talked to him about meeting his sister. Grayson ran his little hands running along Eleanor’s cheeks as you sat there crying at the moment they were having with each other.

Now with a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old life couldn’t have been sweeter. You had hardly been working while pregnant with Ellie, still having to keep up with a rambunctious toddler. Before kids, you were doing some writing for all sorts of movies and TV shows. After kids, you took fewer jobs that require travel and stayed mostly local.

Chris not wanting to leave you at home with a toddler and a newborn had made sure his work kept him close or allowed you and the kids to go with him. You both wanted to make sure you were there when Grayson and Ellie needed you.

If Grayson was a mama’s boy, Ellie was 1000% a daddy’s girl. She refused to let Chris out of her sight if she could help it. She refused to sleep most nights without hearing the sound of her dad’s voice and would cry and cry if he didn’t sing her to sleep. When Chris was pulled away for a week for work you were losing your mind trying to get her to sleep.

After a mild breakdown, you gave in and called Chris knowing even hearing his voice over the phone would calm the baby down. He sat there on the phone and just talked to her. She fell asleep almost immediately and slept through most of the night. You thanked Chris and ended up asking him for voice recordings of him talking and singing so you could play them in case he was pulled away again.

Charlotte Rose Evans

Charlotte, or Charlie as she's been nicknamed by her siblings, came into the world with a crew waiting so patiently for her arrival. By far the most painful and complicated birth you have had, she had quite dramatically made her entrance into the Evans family.

You had been monitored closely the last couple of months of your pregnancy as Miss Charlie tried to make an appearance early. You had some complications about halfway through and your midwife had been worried about possible preterm labor. You had started to have what you knew were contractions at 30 weeks and were immediately rushed into the hospital to try and halt the contractions and luckily succeeding.

You were placed on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy, not even allowed to stand at the stove making dinner, only getting up to use the bathroom and move from the bed to the couch.

It didn’t make your life with an overactive 4 and 2-year-old easy at all. Chris stayed home 24/7 to take care of you and his mom and sisters rotating taking the time to stay with you to help with the kids.

When Charlie did make her debut both of you were as healthy as you could be. Once again, bringing Chris to tears as another baby made their way into your family. He didn’t know he was capable of loving this much. He thought he had reached capacity after Ellie but the love he had for you and his kids just kept growing as you kept adding on.

If Grayson was all Chris, Charlie was all you. Except for her blue eye, which you figured would be a pattern with your kids. She was a copy of you and Chris ate it up. Eleanor is a perfect combination of the two of you. You could see the traits of you as well as the traits of Chris throughout her. But Charlie was completely you.

Grayson fit right into his role as big brother and protector of the Evans girls. He made sure every night he said goodnight to his sisters and told them he loved them with a kiss on their foreheads.

Ellie was excited that she no longer had to share her dolls with Grayson and would finally have a girl to play with. Charlie looked up to her big sister, seeing her as the most amazing person she has ever met.

Grayson, however, felt like he needed another sibling, specifically a boy sibling, and constantly asked you for a brother. He said to you over and over again that his friends at school had brothers and he needed one so very bad. You and Chris had agreed to stop at 3 but had given into the idea of having 1 more to try and even out the numbers. With Grayson in 2nd grade, Ellie in kindergarten, and Charlie starting Pre-K soon, having another wouldn’t be impossible.

Declan Robert Evans

The 2nd boy and the 4th and final child Chris and Y/N had brought into their world. Another perfect mix of Chris and Y/N.

His birth being the last time you would be in the hospital having a baby made it just that more emotional. You soaked in the first moments of his life just a little bit more. Chris cried just a couple more tears, seeing that angel on your chest for the first time. You admired the father of your children just a little more seeing him introduce the addition to the family to your other kids. Adoring the look on Grayson’s face when you set Declan on his lap, finally meeting the little brother he’d been wanting. Asking you if he could take him to class to show off to all his friends.

Walking around your house Declan’s first day home was more emotional than you had thought it would be. You brought every single one of your babies right through your front door. You had pictures littered around the house of moments in your life you were lucky to have immortalized forever. Knowing you had started your family here made you love everything just that much more.

Declan now 5 years old, Charlotte 8 years old, Eleanor 10 years old and Grayson at 12 years old you couldn’t imagine life any differently. You and Chris celebrated 13 years of marriage and almost 15 years together surrounded by the physical representations of the love you two shared for each other was unexplainable.

You had slowly started to get back into the work you loved doing so much after Declan started school. You were able to work on projects offered to you with Chris and had become an unstoppable duo professionally and personally.

Even having the amazing opportunities to do something you loved to do, nothing would ever beat sitting around a table listening to your kids talk about everything and anything that came to mind. Listening to them talk about what happened at school or about upcoming events they want to participate in was the highlight of your day.

Grayson had been playing with a football the moment he could pick one up. Chris nearly cried when Grayson had approached you guys about doing little league football at the rec center. Chris had been watching Patriot's games with Grayson since the day he was born. Taking him to games with Scott whenever they had the chance. The love for football ran in his blood and when he found out he could play on a team he took the chance as soon as it presented himself.

Eleanor had found a love for music and performing, just like her dad. She had picked up music and singing at a very young age, which probably came from her dad's love of performing. You encouraged her to pursue her love for music by telling her stories of when her daddy was young and used to stand on stage before he started doing big movies. She loved looking at pictures and watching old videos of Chris performing in high school whenever she'd visit Grandma Lisa.

Charlotte had picked up your love of reading and writing as soon as she could. Her favorite day of the week is when her class gets to spend time at the library finding new things to read and learn about. So far a running theme with her is books about nature and animals. She loves sitting down with you in the afternoon and telling you about what she learned in the science portion of her day. She had learned about how plants and animals interact and how important they are for all humans. She told you that when she's big she wants to make sure no one ever hurts plants and animals since they are so important for us.

Declan hadn't quite developed a love for something like his siblings had. All he cares about right now is the kind of snacks his mom packs for him and superheroes. You and Chris had introduced him to the world of superheroes recently, knowing that being in school someone was bound to mention to him about seeing his dad on a movie they watched. He was obsessed with the fact that his dad was a superhero once upon a time. He loved watching Chris' movies and would always ask to watch them whenever Chris wasn't home.

You looked at Chris from across the table as Grayson talked to him about football tryouts and asking him if they could practice after dinner. He felt your eyes on him and looked at you with a smirk and a wink thrown at you before giving Grayson his attention again.

You sat back a little to look around at this family surrounding you, knowing there was nothing better than this.

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cracknoir · 3 years

Text

not really headcanons more just pretentious shit i wanted to type out - sometimes it’s good to listen to yourself talk ok

i quite like writing with npc’s because it gives me a chance to like show what jimmy’s like to people he perceives as below him. i always feel like people i interact with get a sort of skewed view of the sort of guy jimmy actually is cos he has time for them, but i also never write with npcs because if i do i end up writing absolute fucking essays

i used to rp deadpool and i think that’s why i just say all the crack stuff i write is canon

this might sound like a dumb thing to say but i have to do things to write. i need to be out exploring and talking to people and it usually inspires me a lot without me noticing. like im not saying i NEED to go on a walk in the woods to start writing but i always find once i’ve done that kind of stuff when i get back i usually have Ideas™. the rule goes that you only ever want to write when you can’t write, for me at least. most of this shit is just daydreams i have at work. that said time’s also the enemy. last night i went out for a walk and by the time i was home i was just too fucked

music plays a big part in what i write but sometimes this fucks me up, sometimes i spend ages looking for the “right song” to write something when really i write just as well when i have like, lofi beats to study to on

ive been thinking about writing more short stories, or vibes as i’ve been calling them. love writing those sort of out of context drabbles that i’ve been doing lately, maybe i could do them about more than just these characters 🤔 🤔 🤔 maybe i’ll write something about my cowboy mans 🤔 🤔 🤔

if i do some short vibes about my cowboy oc with no icons would people like be down for that

scratch that i’m gonna do it and you can’t stop me

i did it and it’s in the queue oops

also this has been in my drafts so long that i’ve just started doing the vibes thing. i hope nobody’s taking it personally but work’s really kicked into gear the past couple days

actual headcanons tho

i recently found out that the mercenary business in america has a large overlap with nazis however i always thought that alex specifically worked with nazis, this said i’d probably never write anything related to that on this blog. i do have a sidestory in my head where jimmy goes down to florida and ends up killing a bunch of nazis but not like, bc of the morals or anything

also this doesn’t bug me at all and i’d never correct anyone bc lbr assassin is a cooler word but assassin relates to political killings usually, if your character kills for money they’re a mercenary BUT ALSO i think mercenary usually has connotations of like military training??? i should reiterate this isn’t an actual gripe i have, but none of my characters are assassins

jimmy won’t go outside to smoke. dont even bother asking him to unless you want trouble.

jimmy’s faked his death ONCE canonically but also maybe as a shitposty joke ye he’s done it like five times. i mean, the best way to celebrate someones birthday is to gaslight them into thinking ur dead

been thinkin bout growin a mullet but same with growing a Big Beard there’s this gross inbetween bit that i’m like nah

jimmy and jack and brad and rasputin are all wildlife mans. the rest are city slickers that wouldn’t last two rotations of the sun without at least 4 bars of signal on their Damn Fone

jack steals lighters and the worst part is you barely even notice him doing it. if he’s been on a night out he’ll wake up with like, 18 different lighters

it’s unclear whether the ufos frankie sees are real, just plains, or if he’s just an attention seeking prick. i don’t think he sees actual aliens but he has a log of ufo encounters he’s had

on the same note, molly loved urban exploring

death loves ice cream, especially bubblegum flavor

yes. satan did lose that fiddling contest. everyone should stop talking about it.

Claude’s killed roughly about 60 people

Molly, Jack, little jake and jimmy will drive around for no reason just doing numerous drugs. sometimes it’s coke but they mostly just smoke weed and once they drove around sniffing mdma

jimmy hates speed but still does it. jack hates ketamine but still does it if offered.

u can tell what jack’s up to by what he offers u when u first walk into his house. if he offers you a coffee, you’ll probably be offered a smoke next, if he offers u a drink, you’ll probably be offered a line next.

also jack bought a fancy coffee maker and makes like caramel coffees nd shit

i really need to cut this shit off this post’s getting too long

consider this shit cut off

shit

cut

off

GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY

#do i have a headcanon tag yet??

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cupofkey · 4 years

Note

howdy there! if you'd like to pop off about any of the latin american counties' (especially república dominicana) dance styles that sure would be nifty! also, im curious, what type of dance do you do?

hell yeah!! omg i fuckin love this bc i feel so much of lh are dancers in some aspect... also I’m a social ballroom dancer (so I do pretty much all of the “ballroom dances” from waltz to salsa) although I dabbled in contemporary and know way way way too many kpop dance routines. Anyways. have this big rant, let’s get into it!!

firstly I regret to say that I don’t know much about rd I just haven’t seen much content of him >:( I do know he is an absolute rascal tho and I fuckin love that. I feel he really loves getting Hyped as fuck and he can throw down when it comes to dancing... the merengue originated in the rd and it’s such a spunky, lively dance that has a kind of marching feel? so I just know he’s sassy as fuck busting it out on the dance floor. the other famous partner dance originating there is the bachata which is SUPER sexy and romantic... I think he’s WAY too good at it and nobody expects it from him lmao. he seems like more of a guy who dances around the kitchen to the radio while his food is cooking than A Ballroom Dancer, but in those rare moments when he does dance with a partner IT SMACKS!!

a character I have VERY strong ballroom feelings about is cuba. he’s such a sweetheart oml and I get kinda gentle giant vibes from him? like I bet he’s the most expressive, fluid dancer and you kinda swoon watching him. so so so many partner dances originated in cuba (cuban bolero, rhumba, mambo, cha cha, and influencing salsa, to name a few. also we actually call hip rotation aka ass movement “cuban motion” in ballroom.) anyways, I think he has a kind of smoothness you wouldn’t expect at first, and he loves a good slow rhumba. king of partner dances, he probably coaches a salsa group too. super patient and friendly, he will often partner with dance noobs and make sure they are having fun, and so he’s a really good lead. conclusion I Love Him :’)

let’s talk about argentina and the tango. please. he is SO CONFIDENT POSSIBLY THE SEXIEST LEAD EVER. argentine tango is super free-flowing, sexy, dynamic, just... a wonderful dance. he’s super proud of it and also kind of a wild lead. like such a showoff, he’s doing all those crazy spins and maneuvers and dips and it’s all very bold lol. he also probably only has one or two people he’ll dance with; for him it’s alllll about the connection and the passion. swoon!

BRAZIL ok brazil is another dancing-around-the-kitchen type of dude to me... idk I think he just gets a lot of joy from music and moving to it and singing and dancing and all that. not usually a partner dance kinda guy, he’s just doing his own thing. samba music/dance ofc is super important to him and he loves to just Vibe to it. not even doing “steps” or “moves” or anything, just dancing to the music, having his moment ya know? idk I would die for him

anyways i could go on these are just the ppl who immediately came to mind... if yall have any other specific characters to request let me know I love this shit

#hetalia #hws #aph #latin hetalia #lh: rd #lh: brazil #lh: argentina #hws cuba #ballroom au #my hcs #ask

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meow-bebe · 4 years

Text

stellatus

Pairing: Lee Felix x artist!reader

Genre: fluffffff

Warnings: literally nothing. this is so sweet asghk we’re channeling the cute here. like honestly not even my usual cussing

Word count: 3614 (!!!)

A/n: remember that idea I posted a while ago? well heres the fic! Im suuuper proud of this one because its the longest thing ive written for this blog (3k! more than 3k! that makes me so happy ahhhh!) and also I just really love it! usually I don't particularly like my own writing but this one I feel like is my best work. also about half way through writing this I found this amazing drawing by @panini-byanyothername which gave me the encouragement to finish this and also deserves all of the love because its an amazing piece of art! it was drawn based on another fanfic but its super pretty and is very close to what my story is about so I thought it would be appropriate to include a link

~~~

stēllātus; first/second-declension adjective starry, stellate, starred

“I have an idea,” you announced, bouncing with excitement as you ran into the room where Felix was currently sat at your desk on his computer. Latching your arms around Felix’s neck from behind, you rested your chin gently on his shoulder.

“And what would that be?”he asked, spinning the office chair he sat in and successfully rotating within your arms.

“I want to paint on you!” you said brightly as Felix’s hands came to rest on your waist as you snuggled closer, plopping down into his lap.

“What?” Felix asked, slightly startled by your bold proposition.

“I want to paint on you,” you repeated, “like, kind of use you as a human canvas?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and you grinned awkwardly, the incredulous tone of his voice making you shy.

“I’m not opposed,” Felix mused, and you immediately brightened back up again. “Why though?”

“Well,” you said, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie, “first of all you’re the only person I have on hand at the moment.” You giggled, and Felix raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But I’ve always loved painting on skin. There’s some strange appeal that comes with turning another human being into art. Unfortunately, I’ve only ever done it on myself before, but I had this really amazing idea a while ago and have held onto it forever and you are absolutely perfect for it.” You finished by pressing a sweet kiss to his nose. “So?” you asked eagerly, “what do you say? Let me paint on you?”

Felix chuckled lightly, and you could feel the deep vibrations where your hands were set on his chest. “Aren’t you going to tell me what your amazing idea is?”

“Nope!” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ as you smiled happily, “You’ll just have to say yes and see what I do. It will be beautiful, I promise.”

Felix playfully narrowed his eyes at you. “You won’t do something stupid or make me look weird?”

“I would never,” you said, sticking out your littlest finger, “pinky swear. And anyway, nothing could ever make you look weird, pretty boy.” Felix’s eyes widened at your compliment, a light shade of red creeping across his cheeks as he wrapped his pinky around yours. No matter how often you complimented him he always had the sweetest flustered reactions.

“What are we waiting for then?” you practically vaulted out of his lap, tangling your fingers together and tugging on his hand to try and get him to follow you.

“What, now?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes, now,” you said, pulling on his hand again, “I can’t wait any longer, I’m dying to finally do this.”

“Alright,” Felix said, laughing as he stood up from the desk, whatever he was working on earlier abandoned as you enthusiastically pulled him along to the spare bedroom turned art studio.

“Here,” you said, tossing one of the already paint-stained cushions you often put to use out of the closet, “sit down while I find what I need.”

Felix grabbed the cushion and set it on the large, clear plastic mat you always kept set out over the hardwood floors. There were several places you had set up for painting, laying on the floor and the easel by the window being two of your favorites, and you rotated between them depending on how you were feeling that day. It seemed like today was a sprawled across the floor day, although that made sense, Felix reasoned, if you were going to be painting on him. He sat down and watched as you zipped back and forth across the room, picking through your jars of brushes and bins of paints to find the supplies you would be using.

Thrusting one of the mason jar mugs you used to wash out your brushes at Felix, you asked, “Could you go fill this up with water for me?” He nodded compliantly, pulling himself up off the floor and traipsing across the hall to the bathroom to fill the glass mug with water. When he came back into the room, you had set up a jar of brushes to pick through, tossed a few tubes of paint to the floor next to the two cushions, and were currently spread across a decent portion of the floor with one of the large folders you had labeled as “inspiration and references.” These were collections of anything you could possibly want to give you ideas or utilize in your art, ranging from newspaper clippings, old photographs, passages from books and poems scrawled on torn notebook paper (or on the more rare occasion, printed out), and absolutely filled to the brim with doodles and practice drawings. You were a firm believer in the idea that anything could be reused or help inspire you in the future, which ultimately lead to your large collection. Usually you tried to date the bits of paper you tucked away, but it didn’t help with your chronic lack of organization.

“What are you searching for?” Felix questioned, assuming that you wouldn’t answer but asking anyway.

“Can’t tell,” you said, eyes twinkling with a spark of mischief, “it’s supposed to be a surprise, remember?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking. What do you want me to do then?” he asked, looking around the room and wondering what you had planned for him.

“Just sit, I’ll find it in a moment.” Felix settled himself back down on the floor as you continued to rifle through the folder barely containing the papers inside it. He watched as you carefully separated a few glossy photos that had stuck together and shuffled through a stack of what appeared to be old school work. “Aha!” you shouted victoriously, startling Felix and holding a few taped together pieces of paper in the air.

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity over both the project itself and the haphazardly folded but carefully assembled papers in your grasp too much to handle.

To his surprise, you gave in this time. “Star chart!” you chirped, obviously too pleased with yourself to continue hiding your intentions. “I’ve always loved space, specifically stars, and I took an astronomy class in high school but never got rid of the papers that weren’t just worksheets. I always hoped that someday I would be able to use them for painting. And here we are!” Felix smiled at the happy grin lighting up your whole face, your excitement too endearing to not acknowledge.

“Cute.” Felix grinned happily as you shuffled over to where you had set up all of your supplies. All of a sudden his smile turned bashful, stammering slightly as he asked, “Should I like, take my shirt off or something then?”

You giggled, setting down the star chart and plucking a thin marker from amongst the plethora of materials. “Not this time. I want to do your face!”

“What?” Felix gasped, eyes widened in surprise.

“I want to paint on your face!” you repeated, excitement fading as you rolled the marker between your hands, suddenly nervous. “Your freckles, specifically. Only if you’ll let me though.” You fidgeted slightly, focused on the marker before looking up at Felix who still wore a slightly startled expression.

“My - my freckles?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Finding patterns that match my constellations-” you patted the papers sitting beside you - “and then turning your face into a little galaxy.”

“Y/n,” he said softly, and you braced yourself to be turned down, “I think that’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come up with. Why would I ever say no?”

Your eyes shot up to find Felix’s, and you could see all of the adoration that he held for you in their depths. “Really?” you asked, pulling yourself into his lap and tucking your arms around his waist.

“Really,” he confirmed, sealing a gentle kiss against your mouth. “Now, how do you want to go about this?”

You clamored off of Felix, grabbing the marker from where you had dropped it at his side and snatching the star chart into your hands before thrusting it at Felix. “Pick a few that you like, and I’ll see if what I can do to weave them out of your freckles,” you said, placing the folded chart into his hands and backing off to begin rifling through the paint tubes you had chosen. “Try not to do anything too difficult, I think the simpler ones would look better for this.”

Leaving him to pour over the constellations, you realized that you had overlooked finding a palette earlier in your scramble to find paints, so you pulled yourself up off the floor to move to the closet once again. Shoving a few bins of paints and stacks of assorted canvases to the side, you finally found the collection of palettes stored near the back of the shelf. Just barely managing to get your finger under the one on the bottom (the shelf was slightly too high, not enough to really bother you, but it could be a minor inconvenience sometimes), you dragged the precariously balanced stack towards yourself.

“What about Lyra?” Felix called from behind you.

“That would work,” you mused, shuffling through the pile in search of one not too caked in dried paint.

“Or Aquila?”

“Also fine,” you responded, selecting a mostly clean palette. “I really want to try Draco, so we’ll do that one first and then fit the others on after that. Sound good?”

"Anything you want to do is good with me," he replied, and you turned to see the pretty blush staining his cheeks.

"But you're the one making this project come to life," you said, crossing the room in a few steps and settling down in front of him. "You should have some input."

"I'm merely the final product in this situation. You, y/n, are the one bringing it to life." Now it was your turn to grow flustered by his compliments.

"Oh hush," you said, searching on the floor for the marker you had set down.

Finding your marker, you uncapped it and scooted closer to Felix. "Ready?" you asked.

He looked at the marker warily. "I thought you were painting."

"I am painting, but I have to sketch it out first," you laughed. "I always do."

"Oh," he said, looking down shyly. He always loved to watch you paint, however paying attention to the process was something else entirely. "Well go on then."

Studying his face carefully, you placed a small dot on top of a freckle close to the top of his cheek. Glancing back at the star chart, you drew another right under it, and awkwardly angled your pen to try and reach better. Pulling the papers mapping out your reference closer, you shuffled to the side and drew another dot.

"This isn't working very well," you said, taking Felix's chin in your hand and tilting his head to the side to try and reach better. "I might move you again, so try not to move and tell me if it's too uncomfortable."

Felix nodded in response just as you set the tip of the marker against his cheek, leaving a small inky streak down his face. You sighed. "Next time just say you heard me. I'm going to get the rubbing alcohol.” You stood up and headed to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and rummaging around to find the necessary bottle. Finding what you needed, you stood up and crossed the hallway once again to rejoin Felix.

"Here." Felix held out a cotton ball that he had no doubt found in the depths of one of your many bins of random art supplies.

"Thanks," you said quietly, already flipping the top of the rubbing alcohol open and soaking the cotton in liquid before scrubbing it gently across Felix's cheek. He held still for the moment, letting you remove the ink from his face and watching your movements carefully.

"Done?" he asked as you tossed the now somewhat grey cotton ball to the floor.

"Yep." you picked up your marker again. "Good to go?" He nodded again, this time making sure that the marker was nowhere near his skin.

You set back to work, switching between analyzing the star chart and making small dots where you could connect the freckles strewn across Felix's face to resemble the constellation you had picked.

After readjusting Felix's face for the nth time, you sighed. “This isn’t working,” you complained, capping your marker and letting your hand fall into your lap.

“I can tell,” Felix mused. “Any ideas?”

You tilted your head, scanning over his face, and Felix could see the imaginary lightbulb pop up above your head as a grin spread across your face. “Maybe,” you said cheekily, crawling into his lap and once again uncapping your marker. Placing the non inky end into your mouth, you cupped your hands around Felix’s cheeks, gently moving his head around until you think you’ve found the perfect angle. “Don’t move.”

Finding that your new vantage point gave you perfect access to the soft skin of your boyfriend’s cheeks, you steadily set back to work, sketching light lines between the makeshift “stars” that quickly began to fill the freckles dotted across Felix’s face.

“Alright! I’m all done.” You leaned back a bit to admire your work, already extremely happy with the way that everything was turning out. “And now -” you clambered off Felix’s lap to let him stretch while you gathered the scattered supplies necessary for the next step of your project - “we paint!”

Felix giggled at the enthusiasm spreading a happy brightness across your face, bringing you closer for a chaste kiss as soon as you had settled yourself back across him. Clasping the brush you had picked up between your teeth as you seemed prone to do, you grabbed two of the few tubes of paint selected from a small box of metallics Felix wasn’t aware you had and unscrewed the one containing silver paint. Squeezing a small amount onto the palette in your other hand, you replaced the cap and set it to the side.

You pulled the paintbrush from your mouth, and said, “This is it. No going back after I start painting,” you warned, absolutely failing to hide the playful tone in your voice.

“I have sharpie all over my face,” Felix laughed, “I’m pretty sure we reached that point a while ago.”

“Right,” you said, ducking your face a little, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. “Well then, let the painting begin!” Placing a sweet kiss to the tip of Felix’s nose, you swirled your brush through the silver paint and hesitantly hovered over the inked lines connecting his freckles.

“You’re not going to mess this up,” Felix reassured, almost as if he could immediately pick up on your thoughts, “anything you paint is always beautiful and I have complete confidence in you.”

The compliments flustered you even more, and muttering a soft, “Oh, be quiet,” you set your brush down, dragging the bristles across the lines you had laid down earlier.

Felix shuddered under the cool touch of paint stroked across his face, and you backed off for a moment, letting him adjust to the foreign feeling. “Try not to move,” you said, setting down your palette and cupping his jaw sweetly.

You painted thin, careful lines over all of the drawn out constellations, painstakingly smoothing the edges and adding a second layer to those where the black ink was still visible. While you kept all of your focus on the paintbrush in your hand, Felix lost himself in the way that you concentrated on the task you had set yourself to. He loved to watch you paint, and the experience was ten times better when you were right up close. Felix watched your expressions as you immersed yourself in your work, noticing every little forehead scrunch, loving the cute way that you would chew on your lip or poke your tongue out when you got to a particularly tricky spot. There wasn’t enough focus left to be self conscious when you truly absorbed yourself in your art, and it was times like these that Felix thought you were most true to yourself, which lead to it also being when he found you most beautiful. Not that you weren’t other times, certainly, but there was something enchanting about your little expressions and the way your hair would stick up from running your fingers through it. You would always have paint all over your hands, no matter how careful you had been, and when it was still wet the pigment often transferred to your face or hair. Of course you never noticed, and so Felix would let you know you should probably look in a mirror, but only after silently appreciating the way that the smudged paint on your forehead somehow only enhanced the glow of beauty that truly being in your element brought out.

“There we go!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Felix out of his reverie. “I’m finished with the lines,” you told him, dropping your paintbrush into the cup of water and swishing it around a little. “Now I just have to do the stars.”

You leaned to the side and reached around Felix to grab the other tube of paint you had taken out and added some of the gold to the palette before screwing the cap back on and tossing it next to you. Balancing the palette on your knee, you grabbed the cup containing your brush and dragged it toward you. Quickly and thoroughly rinsing the paint from the bristles, you wiped off the excess water and took Felix’s face into your hand once again, gently maneuvering him back into a position where you could easily paint.

Now used to the feeling, Felix didn’t startle when you began painting again, the cool touch of the paint to his cheek calming. You worked steadily, crossing tiny strokes to form the stars connecting the constellations created by his freckles. Every now and then you would shift in his lap, or make sure that the angle his head was at wasn’t making his neck ache, but for the most part you worked silent and still.

You smoothed tiny lines into shapes, keeping them tidy and occasionally layering more paint on where it had smudged or the first coat had been too thin. After finishing one of the stars higher on his cheek, you leaned back to admire your work.

“I think I’m done,” you said softly, wiping a bit of golden paint off Felix’s forehead.

“Can I see?” he asked, plucking the paint brush out of your fingers and placing it in the paint water.

You nodded, climbing out of his lap and gesturing towards the messy desk in the corner of the room. “There should be a mirror up there. I’m going to go get my Polaroid camera.” You loved that camera, it had been a gift from a friend years ago, and you only pulled it out for special occasions. Felix knew how much it meant to you, and the fact that you wanted to capture this moment with it warmed his heart.

When you returned to the room, Felix was sitting back on the cushions you had pulled out, the small hand mirror next to him on the floor. “It’s beautiful, y/n,” he said, and you smiled at the compliment, whispering a quiet “Thanks.”

“Where do you want me?” Felix asked, nodding towards the camera in your hands.

“By the window, probably,” you said, “I think backlighting would look good for this.” It was reaching late afternoon now, and the sun was beginning to sink to the horizon quickly. The golden light would shine through his hair beautifully, and Felix always glowed in the sunlight.

The two of you moved to the other side of the room, and Felix quickly set himself up in front of the window.

“Should I pose or something?” Felix asked, and you shook your head in response.

“Just do what feels natural,” you said, squinting at him through the viewfinder on your Polaroid before lowering it to watch him adjust for the photo. He seemed to relax under your gaze, and turned his head to the side so he was looking straight into the lens as the light washed over the paint trailed across his face, illuminating the shine of the metallics you used. He stilled after a moment, and after you were sure he wasn’t going to move, you pressed the shutter. The camera began printing your photo, and after a moment you plucked it from the slot, pressing it between your lips and bringing the camera back up to your eye.

“I want to take one more,” you mumbled around the developing photo in your mouth, “close your eyes for me?” Felix complied, letting his lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks as a small smile settled across his face. You snapped your second photo, bringing the camera down and tucking the earlier in between your fingers as you waited for the second to print. Felix came to stand next to you, taking the second photo and looking over your shoulder to see how the first one turned out.

As you watched the color seep onto the glossy paper you knew that the stars across his cheeks, no matter how pretty they were, could never compare to the stars that shone in his eyes. He was truly beautiful, and standing there with your camera in hand, his hair brushing against your cheek, you were never more aware.

#lee felix #felix #felix stray kids #stray kids #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #stray kids fanfiction #felix fanfiction #maybe ill have to start a masterlist soon this is exciting

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