#just a few ideas i think would have been funny
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.・˚*✧.𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
(Jimmy Darling x fem!reader)
tags: enemies to lovers plot, smut!
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of death, slamming against the wall (?), fingering, oral (m!receaving).
summary: Two freaks who despise each other end up...well...finding out that the other wasn't so bad.
character count: 12k.
this was a request by @brightanshiny!<3
full fic under the cut ↓
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You walked steadily, the only sound you could perceive was the grass being crushed by your low heel pumps. The birds’ faint chirp rang in your ears, accompanied by your anxious breathing. You were walking in the dark both because your sunnies made everything cloudy and because you had no idea where your destination was.
“Where you goin’, beautiful?” was what all drivers asked while slowing their cars as they saw an objectively young woman alone in the middle of a desert land. They also all drove off after hearing your response. Why would such an adorable creature be led in a freakshow?
If only they knew. You kept wandering around, your hands clutching tightly to the handle of your bag, and your heart clinging onto the hope. And then, you felt like your prayers had been listened to once a car stopped and actually offered you a ride. You had nothing to lose, especially because they said they were going to the freakshow too. You hopped in the backseat of their car, adjusting your glasses in the awkward silence.
“So uhm…what brings you to the freakshow?” You cleared your throat after asking.
The couple chuckled and turned to you. Only then you realized that the woman had three breasts, and the man had, well…one heck of a bicep. A toothy smile made its way on your face, you had already made some friends.
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Time passed while your eyes scanned the view from the window, and before you knew it, you had arrived. You were greeted by a giant entrance shaped as a wicked…devil? Whatever that thing was, it made you shiver. You wished good luck to the couple as they walked towards Elsa’s tent, you decided to prepare yourself before ‘auditioning’. You settled your bag onto the grass, and began searching for your cards, when suddenly a misshapen geek ran towards you with…a little flower?
“Flower!” She babbled with a crooked grin.
You, who had fallen onto the ground after that thing scared the hell out of you, quickly got up taking a few steps back.
“Pepper, c’mere.” A young man walked towards who you assumed was pepper.
He had brown locks falling onto his face, deep brown eyes gazing at you and your figure, and a boyish smile plastered on his face. He was wearing a simple white tank, and as your gaze traveled down, you noticed that his hands were…deformed.
“Excuse her, she’s just got a lil’ excited. S’not everyday a beautiful lady like ya comes around.” He winked.
“Oh…that’s okay. Thank you for the flower.” You smiled at Pepper, who got all giddy as you took her flower.
“A ride on the carousel’s one nickel, doll. Want me to show ya the way?” He kept checking you out.
“Oh uh…I’m not here for that.” You chuckled apologetically.
“Oh. Looking for another typa ride?” He flexed his arms and hands.
“What? N-no.” You felt the heat rising to your cheeks.
“I’m here to…join.” You added, almost bashfully.
“Join what? The carnival?” He raised an eyebrow as he peeked at your bag.
You nodded, which earned a scoff from him.
“Ya know ya actually have to be a freak to join? Or ya got a surprise under yer dress?” He chuckled.
“Uh no…I am a freak too, though.” You slid your sunglasses over your head, revealing your heterochromia. One of your eyes was light, the other was dark. His eyes widened a little at the sight, then he burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” You frowned, a wave of insecurity washing over you.
“Ya think yer a freak jus’ because ya got different colored eyes? That’s an insult to us, real freaks.” He spat.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” You narrowed your eyes as your annoyance grew.
“I don’t think ya got the right to call yerself a freak. Look at me, look at my hands, I could never be considered normal with these. But you? Ya could be a heck of a model. Yer quirk doesn’t make ya disgusting to look at. So you better leave, little girl, before you actually see what the real freaks are like.” He replied bitterly.
Suddenly you were a kid again, all the other normal children playing around you while you were sitting in the corner of the class eating your jam sandwich.
“My mom said she came from the devil’s womb…” Little Kimberly whispered.
“Really? My dad says she’s a witch…” Young Sebastian muttered.
And now, this lobster boy came up to you to tell you that you didn’t suffer enough to consider yourself an actual freak? How rude.
“You don’t know a single thing about me, I’ve been an outcast my whole life, I know for sure what I can call myself and I know even better that I belong here. I thought I wouldn’t get judged if I was among people like me. But apparently, I was wrong.” You raised your voice.
“You’ll never be like us. And what can ya even do? Sing? Dance?” He chuckled, smirking.
“I read tarots.” You crossed your arms.
“Oh well, good luck with that. Elsa doesn’t believe in that crap.” He spoke harshly before walking away.
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You ended up joining the circus. Something that you said brought up memories in Elsa's mind, convincing her. You even had your own little stand where sometimes people would stop by. Some were suspicious, some were faithful. In the end, they all left your stand with a new set of hopes. The other freaks weren’t so bad, in fact, they welcomed you with open arms. Ethel, the bearded woman, was one of your favorites. She was always sweet with you, and you felt so…safe with her. You couldn’t quite understand how such a wonderful woman gave birth to such a rude creature. Jimmy, her son, was in fact her complete opposite. Always making fun of your profession, with that stupid grin that he loved to flash, especially to the ladies. This is why at her funeral you were sobbing your eyes out. She was like a mother to you, the accepting one that you never had. And if her weird death managed to hit you that badly, it was even worse for Jimmy. He was really close to his mother, so her death completely destroyed him, making him a drunk mess and an even more annoying bastard.
After the burial, you walked to your stand, organizing it for the next day. You were putting the cards away, when suddenly a voice behind you made you jump.
“Ya got a minute?” Jimmy spoke with a broken voice, leaning against the entrance.
He was soaking wet, so you assumed he stayed next to his mother’s grave in the rain. You had to admit, the sight made your heart ache. He looked so heartbroken, a miserable expression on his face, his deep brown eyes dull, visibly lost.
“O-of course…What do you need?” You frowned as he sat down in front of you, dismissing your help with a wave of his claws. He sniffled, pointing to your cards.
“Do these actually work?” He looked up at you, brows creased.
“Uh…I mean…technically it’s all based on universe belief-” You were interrupted by him.
“Do these fucking work?” He repeated, his voice rough and angry, although you could see a hint of desperation in his eyes. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you simply nodded, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. You sat down and shuffled the cards.
“Pull three cards.” You spread the cards over the table.
He pulled three, then turned them to face the surface.
DEATH, THE DEVIL, JUDGEMENT.
His gaze hardened and he quickly stood up.
“Are ya messing with me?!” He slammed his claws on the table, some cards falling down.
“What? No! Why would I?” You raised your voice in defense.
“Yer doing this on purpose!” He growled, then turned around and punched the tent out of anger. He buried his face in his hands, and to your surprise, he started crying. You immediately hurried to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles.
“I-I swear…it’s all casual…I didn’t mean to-” You spoke, almost ashamed, before being cut off. He grabbed your shoulders, lifting you up and slamming your body against the tend. He held you up like that, his face a few inches away from yours, you could actually feel his breath on his face. He smelled like alcohol.
“Casual, huh? I come up to ya out of pure desperation, hoping that those little fairytales you tell to yer customers will at least distract me, to let there be light…and what do ya fucking show me? Death, judgement and the fucking devil?” He spoke cruelly, his grip on your shoulders tightening.
“Y-you’re drunk, Jimmy…please…” You breathed out, scared of what his next possible move could be.
“Yer so fucking annoying!” He grunted to your face, his gaze severe as it traveled down to your lips, where a sudden change of expression crept on his face. He took a deep breath.
“but so damn addicting...” He muttered under his breath, hurriedly smashing his lips against yours. His kiss was harsh, crude, driven by a primal instinct. You were confused, yes, and you were pretty sure he wasn’t completely lucid. Yet, you leaned into the kiss, your lips moving in sync against his. He hummed as he felt you reciprocate, and roughly grabbed the back of your thighs, pulling them up and sliding between them, so that your legs were wrapped around his torso, and his hips were pressing against yours. You yelped at the sudden change of position, your arms reaching to drape around his neck. Now that you were securely clinging onto him, he grabbed your waist, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck.
“Fucking angel…whatcha do to me…” He mumbled while sliding his lips on your neck, making you shiver. He started kissing and sucking your skin until he left a red mark. You tried to bite back a groan.
“Lemme hear ya…” He sunk his teeth onto the skin of your neck, being careful not to draw blood. That caused an almost instant moan from you and you felt him smile while he trailed kisses down your chest, against the fabric of your dress. He groaned in frustration as the thin fabric represented a barrier between you two that he had to get rid of as soon as possible. He reached to the zipper on your back, brutally pulling it down along with your dress. His eyes traveled on your almost naked figure, causing a subtle blush on your cheeks. He buried his face between your breasts, one of his big hands unclasping your bra and groping your tits. His mouth worked wonders on your nipples, and pretty much all of the skin around. You couldn’t help but groan, especially when his claws made their way on your heat, sliding your panties aside. His fused fingers brushed a few times against your clit before immediately dipping in your slick entrance.
“Ohh…! f-fuck Jimmy…” You moaned, your hands reaching to grip his curls. He grinned and pumped his fingers steadily, increasing progressively the pace. Your moans kept growing louder and louder, as you felt that knot in your tummy tighten.
“Jus’ like that, doll…takin’ it so well…” He murmured in your ears, occasionally biting your earlobe. You felt your back slide against the tent wall, in sync with the rhythm of his fingers.
“S-shit…I’m gonna- ah!- cum…” You whined.
“Let go…let go f’me, sunshine…” He groaned, his tongue sliding down to tease your collarbone. With a few more pumps, you reached the edge, coming on his fingers. Your moans were so loud you were sure that everyone outside heard you.
“There ya go, doll…so good…” He smirked, letting you catch your breath. He looked at his fingers, wet with your release. He brought them to his mouth, sucking your cum off of them. The sight drove you crazy, so in return, you sank to your knees, your hands urgently working on the buttons of his pants. He let out a small gasp of surprise.
“Uh…whatcha doin’, angel?” He breathed out, almost shyly, as you pulled his pants along with his boxers down.
“Returning the favor..” You batted your lashes at him, innocently and naughtily at the same time.
“O-oh…alright…I’m not used to uh…usually girls are all over my fingers, they don’t really pay attention to my-” He cut himself off with a moan, caused by your lips suddenly wrapping around his tip. You were surprised by his size, he was average in length, although he was…girthy. You started sucking gently, slowly and teasingly.
“Ah…like that…” He groaned and tried to fight the urge of grabbing your head and fucking your face. You smiled as you tasted his pre-cum, finally deciding to take more of him in your mouth. Once you adjusted to his bigness, you started bobbing your head up and down.
“Oh! f-fuck…so fucking good…like that…atta girl…” His eyes shut down in pleasure, his mouth opening in an “o” form. He couldn’t resist anymore, he grasped the back of your head and started fucking your face at a faster pace. The impact was harsh, and it caused you to gag a little, your eyes watering.
“Sorry doll…ya jus’...feel so fucking good…” He moaned, bobbing your head up and down even faster, catching his orgasm. He groaned, releasing hot strings of cum in your mouth. He quickly pulled out, helping you up on your feet and watching you swallow with a proud grin. He helped you put on your clothes again, and picked you up like a princess, as if you weighed nothing. He pressed some kisses to the side of your face.
“Yer my light, dollface.” He smiled, all mushy.
“Let’s go get some rest in my caravan…I’ll get ya ice cream later, yea?” He chuckled.
You had never seen him happier.
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a/n: hiiii!!! ughhhh this took sooo long, I'm so full of exams!!! BTW, I tried to write a more interesting plot, bcs I know that Jimmy is very underrated and not many people read fics of him!! poor little lobster boy. Anyways, hope you like it!!❤️❤️
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @doll3tt33 @angeldollw @newwavesylviaplath @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny
all rights reserved!!
#jimmy darling#jimmy darling x reader#american horror story#ahs freakshow#evan peters#ahs fandom#ahs murder house#tate langdon#kyle spencer#violet harmon#james patrick march#kai anderson#taissa farmiga#sarah paulson
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There's a snake in my pants - K.MG
🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader
🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu]
🤠Word count; 2.3k
🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.
Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.
Summary;
Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.
-2024 Masterlist-
A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖
And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖
Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.
As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.
So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.
When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back.
A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.
Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns.
You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.
All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.
"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.
Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along.
"Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.
He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip.
"I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."
"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.
"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.
"Sounds serious."
"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste.
"Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"
"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body.
"Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"
"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.
"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."
"That I do, ma'am."
"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"
"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."
"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.
"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.
"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"
"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.
"Okay, give it to me."
"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.
"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.
Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips.
"There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.
"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.
"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"
"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"
"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.
"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."
"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.
"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."
"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"
"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town.
So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"
"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.
"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"
"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"
Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises.
Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way.
And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.
"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."
"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story.
"Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.
He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.
When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.
While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.
Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom.
"Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you.
There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again.
And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.
There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.
Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.
The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.
It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.
It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.
Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.
Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.
"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek.
"Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"
Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."
"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."
"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made.
And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.
Yeah, he really is it for you.
A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.
#wkcnet#svthub#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen crack#svt fluff#svt crack#svt fic#seventeen mingyu x reader#seventeen mingyu fluff#seventeen mingyu crack#seventeen mingyu fic#svt mingyu x reader
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... ok hear me out, i have a batshit theory idea.
what if hemlock never got tech's body?
we only see him with tech's glasses, and no indication that he or the stormtroopers under his command were the ones who found his body once he fell.
that tidbit is important.
tech "died" on eriadu. eriadu is governor tarkin's homeworld and homebase. and tarkin, as seen in s1, is FASCINATED with the bad batch's capabilities. to have the smartest, and arguably most technologically knowledgeable batcher, is an opportunity i don't think he'd hand over to hemlock.
what i'm saying is that the winter soldier tech theory could still be true. even if it's not in the context of the original bad batch show, we still have the potential of imperial tech, even if he may be much older and wiser facing off against omega trying to break imperial programming and bring him home, a la bucky barnes.
i think an older omega facing off against a winter soldier tech is INFINITELY more interesting angle than it happening in the bad batch show, because of the depth of time since his death had passed. they all have grieved and moved on, keeping pieces of tech with them as they settled into their civilian lives and got their bittersweet ending. uprooting that approximately 12 years in the future, where omega had lived longer without him than she had lived with him (around a year post order 66, my timing with the later seasons of bad batch make more sense than the timeframe of s1 to me) would be INFINITELY more interesting and thought provoking than it would have been to bring him back in the bad batch s3.
and on top of the drama of a grown-up omega meeting an imperial tech and having to come to terms with the fact he survived, tarkin having his brain? having him working on the project stardust? foaming at the mouth. dying, even. (also itd be funny if tech and galen erso became friends at some point if tech was working on project stardust at all.)
not to mention the rest of the batch.
disclaimers: i know he's dead. his death makes sense with the rest of season 3 to back it up and subtly support it.
this is just a fun what-if theory.
if apollo's dodgeball of prophecy smacks me in the face in a few years' time i WILL be resigning from the internet and living as a hermit for the rest of my days.
#star wars#the bad batch#the bad batch speculation#the bad batch spoilers#tech tbb#tbb tech#tech lives#governor tarkin#royce hemlock#if this bears resemblance other theories going around . i apologize ive been rotating What If Tarkin Got Tech at mach speeds
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Never Gonna Give You Up
Next Part in Willingly Unwilling (Can't believe we're already at 9 🤯)
Summary: Gale wants to forget Mystra but can't. Astarion helps.
It’s stupid and he should leave. He should not be sitting here in the tabernacle with Mystra’s shrine in front of him. He is admittedly a little drunk. Astarion may have collected and burned everything in the palace that reminded him of Cazador and his siblings but he left the wine cellar intact. And it’s very good wine. Gale finished the first and is working his way through a second bottle.
The floor is cold and hard and his back hurts from leaning against the stone bench behind him. His neck hurts from the angle he’s held it in for so long. Peering up at Mystra’s statue. He missed her and he shouldn’t. He should be mad at her. He should be forgetting her.
She’d tossed him aside. She’d left him with a hole in his chest that no matter how much magic he gave, he sacrificed, it just took and took and took. She made her forgiveness contingent on blowing himself up. He had the crown of Karsus within his grasp. All he had to do was reach out and take it. But then she’d dangled the cure right in front of him.
“Bring me the Crown of Karsus and I will heal you Gale. I will restore you to your rightful place as an archmage. As my chosen.”
And what did he do? Caved like the doe eyed schoolboy he’d been all those years ago.
And she’d cured him alright. He had all the magic and power at his fingertips and then some. The only evidence of his folly, of his mistake, the evidence that something had been mildly wrong with him was the scared reminder on his chest.
He drank more wine. He needed to leave. He needed to get up and leave and forget her but he can’t. She’s taken up too much space in his head. In his heart. And he shouldn’t be thinking these things knowing that he would come after him.
Because it wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when. Not after the earlier conversation they’d had.
“I just don’t understand why you’re so against the idea,” Astarion watched Gale brush his hair in the mirror. “One little bite. One little drink and eternity is yours.”
“I never said I wasn’t against it,” Gale replied.
“Are you scared?” Astarion sat up. “Because it’ll only hurt for a bit. I’ll make it as painless as I can. I never want to hurt you, you know that.”
“I do. I know, and it’s not, it isn’t out of fear,” Gale shook his head. He didn’t know what it was. He set the brush aside and started to pull his hair back. His fingers brushed his ear and his hand stilled.
It was empty. It was still an odd feeling. It’d been less of a request and more of a demand from Astarion. He caught his gaze in the mirror and looked away just as quickly.
“Surely you are not still beholden to your former goddess?” Astarion asked as he walked over to him. “The ex-lover who asked you to kill yourself for her. Who dangled a cure for that bomb in your chest in order for you to hand over a crown that by all rights, could and should have been yours? Are you?”
He put one hand on Gale’s shoulder the other coming around his front, fingers stroking his cheek. A few inches over and those delicate fingers would be around his throat. It’s funny how much Gale would prefer that.
“Of course not,” Gale reached up and put his hand over Astarion’s. “Why would I when I have you?”
“Always so predictable.”
Gale straightened and swallowed the mouthful of wine he’d been drinking. He didn’t have to turn around, or look over his shoulder, but he did. Astarion is standing near the doors with his arms crossed over his chest.
It must have started raining because his hair’s wet and plastered to his forehead. Even with the dim lighting of the candles he can make out the man’s expression. He’s not angry like Gale would have expected. But he is upset. He’s hurt.
“I thought we’d moved past this running away and getting drunk,” Astarion walked over. “If it’s not the Elfsong, or the Blushing Mermaid, it’s here.” He looked around. “The shrine belonging to your ex lover.”
“...I’m not getting drunk…” is the point Gale makes. “I’m drinking…but not getting drunk.”
That doesn’t make it better but it doesn't make it worse.
“Do you still love her?” Astarion asked.
“Of course not,” Gale answered. “I told you. I don’t love her anymore.”
“Then why the fuck are you here?” Astarion stood in front of him. “Why do I have to find you here in front of her? Staring at her like some lovesick puppy?”
The rain is louder now. Thunder breaks up the sound every so often. Astarion is looking down on Gale and Gale is looking up at him. And his eyes are wet. From tears? From the rain?
“I…” Gale doesn’t have an answer for him. Because he doesn’t want to be Astarion’s spawn? Not now. Not yet. But it isn’t as if he really belongs to Mystra anymore now does he? But if he becomes a spawn. Astarion’s spawn it’s the same thing. No longer beholden to a mistress but to a master.
When Astarion touches him, his fingers are cold but gente. His eyes are soft. “Poor thing. You say the words but struggle to believe them yourself. She really has you in a chokehold doesn’t she? That’s why you came here isn’t it?”
Continue Reading
#gale of waterdeep#astarion ancunin#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale x astarion#bloodweave#gale dekarios#fanfic#unhealthy relationship#toxic old man yaoi#manipulative relationship#gale and astarion have sex infront of mystra's shrine#angsty#sex as a coping mechanism
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Beacon Academy-Goodwitches combat class.
Glynda: Would Jaune Arc and Weiss Schnee make their way down to the arena.
Yang: Don't go too hard on him, Weiss.
Weiss: Nope. Full throttle. Arc has been very annoying as of late, what with his constant flirting and repeatedly asking me out.
Weiss: This match will do the one thing that should have been done from the beginning, and that is ending the idea of their ever being a thing between me and Jaune!
Ruby: Hey, come on, now be nice to Jaune...
Weiss: Until he learns some things like barriers, and when no means, forget it, this will be the end of one of Beacons' most over hyped, over valued, and over privileged hunstman.
Blake: Sheesh... just don't overdo it, Weiss.
Weiss 'hmphs' at Blake as she entered the ring with Jaune and annoyed look on her face as Jaune just awkwardly waved, as the rest of Jaune's team could be heard cheering him on.
it was an embarrassing slaughter for Jaune so much so that tensions against the rest of Team JNPR and Weiss were dicey, luckily Jaune calmed his team down much to the relief of Weiss...but funny enough she think Jaune got the message cause she hadn't gotten asked out by him or given an attempted flirt ever since than.
-
EverAfter.
CatJaune caught Weiss blade with very little effort, the action causing the tired Heiress to weakly attempt to free her sword.
CatJaune: You know, before I strike you down, I'm going to say a few words...on behalf of my poor Jaune, and tell me if you get Deja-vu.
CatJaune: This match between us will do the one thing that should have been done from the very beginning, and that is ending the idea their ever being a thing between Jaune and Weiss!
Weiss gasped as her heard her own voice play in the back of her mind, the harsh words that her Beacon self said almost two years ago.
CatJaune: This will be the end of Beacons' most overhyped, overvalued, and over privileged huntresses in all of Beacon Academy.
And before Weiss could say anymore, she saw the gleam of Crocea Mors enter her view, while only a single thought crossed her mind.
'I'm sorry, Jaune'
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You Can Find Me Where the Skies are Blue (BuckTommy fic) - 7/7
Summary:
Soulmates are rare. So rare that it's actually incredible that Buck has two soulmate couples in his life. Statistics tell him it's very unlikely for him to meet his soulmate. Of course, then he meets Tommy. Too bad it happens at the worst possible moment.
Canon compliant soulmate AU where Buck is still a mess and Tommy is still very understanding.
Words: 6,258
Rating: M (this applies to part of this chapter only...I've put *** around the section)
Ao3
Part One - Part Two - Part Three
Part Four - Part Five - Part Six
-
Part Seven
“So, tell me about your couch,” Tommy said.
Evan set his cup of coffee down after a sip. “I told you about Ali,” Evan said.
Tommy nodded. “Your ex…the one that picked out your apartment.”
Evan nodded.
“Did she also pick out your furniture and forget to get a couch?” Tommy asked, tilting his head to the side as a sign that he was mostly trying to be funny.
Evan rolled his eyes. “She did help pick most of it out. I did need the help. It was my first real apartment and I had no idea what I was doing. She did pick out a very nice couch. It was very comfortable.”
Tommy had more questions because there was so much that Evan wasn’t filling in and he didn’t know what to ask first. Instead, he let Evan continue.
“I spent a lot of time on that couch after she broke up with me,” Evan said. “The reality of my job hit her pretty hard. And I hated my place…I thought about moving, but that would have been harder. Those stairs do not mix well with a cast.”
“A cast?” Tommy asked.
He immediately hated the idea of Evan hurt. It came with the territory though. Tommy had had his own share of injuries over the years, more so when he was a firefighter than a pilot, but they still did happen.
Buck nodded. “I, uh, I don’t know if you heard about it. I was crushed under a ladder truck. My leg took the brunt of it.”
Things clicked for Tommy quickly. He did remember that, watching it on the news because it was his old firehouse and he’d been so worried for Hen and Chim and Bobby. He hadn’t known it was Evan and oh…Evan had been injured and his girlfriend had left him. She left him to sit in the apartment she’d picked out, on the couch that she had bought because his bedroom was up the stairs and it wouldn’t have made any sense for Evan to stay up there. Tommy hated it. He hated what Evan had gone through and on top of that being left by the person that was supposed to be there taking care of him.
“So you got rid of it?” Tommy asked.
“No. It was very comfortable. I had it for a few years and then I asked Taylor to move in. That was a mistake. She, uh, she said she had a superior couch and I didn’t fight her on that. So we got rid of mine. When we broke up, she took it with her.”
“This was your last girlfriend?” Tommy asked.
Evan shook his head. “The one that came before. Taylor’s the one that wrote the book.”
“And you didn’t replace it since?” Tommy asked.
Evan actually chuckled as he shook his head. “Not for a while. When I was struck by lightning, my parents were visiting. My mom got me a new couch. It wasn’t comfortable and it didn’t go with the apartment but it was a nice thought. So, I wasn’t upset when I had to deliver a baby on it.”
Tommy was still trying to think about Evan’s parents and their involvement. They hadn’t really talked about them much, not that Tommy had discussed his own family history. He was so focused on that part of what Evan had said that it took him a moment to try to explain why there had been a pregnant woman in Evan’s apartment. He couldn’t find a reason.
“You delivered a baby on your couch,” Tommy said.
Evan nodded. His cheeks had gone pink and he looked like he was trying to talk himself into saying something. Tommy just watched and he saw when Evan steeled himself.
“Hey,” Tommy said, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Evan smiled. “I want to. I, uh, I’m a sperm donor,” he said. “Well, not in general, but I did donate sperm for my friend Conor and his wife. Cameron was upset with Conor and she was at my place when her water broke. I delivered their baby right on the couch. Got rid of it soon after.”
Tommy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to form any words, instead he just stared at Evan. Suddenly, he understood why Evan had said it was a long story and maybe it even explained why he hadn’t yet gotten a replacement. He was also a little stuck on Evan being a sperm donor. There was a kid out there with his DNA, one that probably even looked a little like him and Evan had even helped the mother give birth.
“How…how do you feel about that?” Tommy asked.
Evan shrugged his shoulders. “You know, there was a moment when I was holding the baby where I felt so much longing for him and then I gave him to Cameron and she loved him so much. She and Conor will give him such a good life because they wanted him so much. I mean, I hadn’t spoken to Conor for years before he called so I know I was something of a long shot, but they called anyway. They wanted him so badly. I don’t regret it.”
Tommy could tell that he meant it. Evan really was just that wonderful. He was admirable and Tommy knew not many people could do what he’d done.
“How long ago was that?” Tommy asked.
“A few months back.”
“And you never replaced the couch,” Tommy said with a grin.
“Ah, no. I did go look at a few with Natalia, but I didn’t find any that I liked.”
“There is so much to unwrap here,” Tommy said. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Evan just smiled. “I know,” he said. “You know, Chris makes fun of me for not having a couch, granted it’s partly because we can’t have any sleepovers.”
“We’ll fix that, Evan,” Tommy said, smiling at him. “We’ll find you a new couch.”
“Now,” Evan said, “it’s time for you to tell me something. Anything.”
Tommy grinned back. “Well,” he said, “is there anything you want to know specifically?”
“Uh, how…how did you know you were gay?” Evan asked it and then hid his face behind his coffee.
Tommy smiled easily. It was a little wild to him that Evan had only really come to terms with his own sexuality the night before. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours. Part of the way he was reacting was the soulmate thing, but Tommy had still tried to keep some distance between them when they got to the restaurant to not make it obvious just in case. In his experience, most people were accepting. They didn’t care about strangers when they had their own problems to deal with. But in a crowd of many, sometimes the one or two assholes were the loudest. The last thing Tommy wanted was to expose Evan to that, not that it wouldn’t happen eventually.
“Looking back, I think I knew pretty early,” Tommy said. “I didn’t get all the excitement about girls and then sometimes I did notice a guy and that was different. I knew gay people existed, obviously, but I didn’t think that was me. I hated it. I didn’t have anyone to turn to and my parents are very religious. I pushed myself to date girls…some attempt at being normal. I deluded myself into thinking that everyone was faking the excitement about dating…it wasn’t until the first time I kissed a guy that I knew.”
“Wow,” Evan said. “It wasn’t easy, then.”
“Not at all, Evan. I told myself lies for a long time. Sometimes to protect myself and other times because it was easier. You’re just coming to terms with who you’ve always been…I knew and I refused to acknowledge it for a long time.”
“Oh,” Evan said. “And your…your parents?”
Tommy chuckled. “I haven’t spoken to them in years. Don’t need to. Don’t intend to.”
“They weren’t accepting,” Evan said. “I’m so sorry, Tommy.”
“Don’t be. They’re religious in a bad way. It took me a long time to realize how much of what they said I internalized. How much it kept harming me. I’m better off without them.”
Tommy drank a gulp of his coffee. He hadn’t expected heavy conversation on what was meant to be their first date, but at the same time it was good to get it out of the way. Evan was watching him, small smile playing on his lips, and it was a reminder that their pasts wouldn’t mar who they were now or what they could be for each other.
“You know,” Evan said, “you might just beat me on bad parents. Though, I have no idea how they will react to this. I guess we’ll find out at the wedding.”
“Wedding?” Tommy asked.
Evan blushed. “Sorry,” he said. “I should have asked…will you be my date to my sister’s wedding?”
Tommy nodded at once. With anyone else it would have felt too soon and too quick.
“Of course, Evan. You won’t tell them before that?” Tommy asked.
“No,” Even said decidedly. “They’re, uh, not horrible people or anything. They were awful parents, but they’ve been trying because of Jee and some other things. They did buy me that couch.”
“The one you haven’t replaced,” Tommy said.
Evan laughed. “Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s complicated with them. Maybe if we’re lucky, Maddie will tell them for us.”
“Does Maddie even know about me?” Tommy asked.
Evan shook his head. “She knows I found my soulmate. I’ll tell her soon. Her, I’m not too worried about.”
Tommy couldn’t tell if that meant that Evan was actually worried about his parents or not. It almost seemed like he barely wanted to interact with them at all and Tommy could easily understand that.
They left when they finished their coffee, Tommy walking behind Evan and allowing his eyes to look at the way that Evan walked, how the jeans he was wearing hugged his ass just right. He really was too gorgeous for words and it was made so much better by who he was too. Tommy was in awe of him.
“What’s the rest of your day look like?” Evan asked.
“I do have a shift later, but clear otherwise.”
“Eddie didn’t call to make plans,” Evan said. “No street fighting or flights to Vegas.”
Tommy chuckled. “No, Evan.”
“It’s nice you guys get along, actually. My soulmate and my best friend.”
It hadn’t been a full day since they figured everything out. They had kissed for the first time the night before. Everything was insanely new and yet, somehow, it just felt so right. Especially when Evan grabbed his hand as if he did it all the time, or when he brought it up to his lips to press a kiss to Tommy’s knuckles that left his hand tingling.
—
“I have something to tell you,” Buck said. He fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup and watched Maddie.
His sister paused across the island from him. “Everything okay?” she asked, head tilted and a worry frown appearing on her forehead.
“It’s…well, actually everything is great,” Buck said.
She stared him down and Buck was aware, a little too aware, how well his sister knew him and how she could probably tell that he was ridiculously nervous and worried. He didn’t even know why, because it was Maddie and Maddie wouldn’t judge him or anything and yet that didn’t change how difficult it was.
“What happened?” Maddie asked.
Buck gulped. “Well, I told you I met my soulmate.”
Maddie nodded and suddenly she was smiling. “Oh. Is this an update? I’ve been meaning to ask, but it’s been a bit crazy with the wedding and everything.”
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah. It is. We figured everything out, Maddie. It’s really…it’s amazing.”
“I’m so happy for you, Evan,” Maddie said. “When do I get to meet her? Tell me it’ll be before the wedding.”
“About that,” Buck said, looking away from Maddie and taking a moment.
“Buck?”
Buck looked back up. “Yes, you can meet him before the wedding. It’s just that you might be a little…I don’t know, I was shocked so I can understand if you are too, but — oh, this is hard. It’s just that it isn’t what I expected and—”
Maddie lifted a hand, cutting him off. “You said him,” she said. “Your soulmate is a guy.”
Buck inhaled a breath and he nodded quickly. “Yeah.”
“Oh. Wow,” Maddie said and then found Buck’s gaze. “I don’t think I ever expected you could lean in that direction. It’s not — it’s not a bad thing. I just—”
“Didn’t expect it,” Buck said. “Yeah, me either. I’m bisexual, Maddie.”
Maddie smiled, then, and he could tell that she was just taking a moment to process. He didn’t blame her, it had taken him long enough to figure it out. That was especially so when considering how deluded he’d been for a little bit there. He’d been so convinced that it would be platonic and he was so glad to be wrong.
“I’m proud of you, Evan,” Maddie said. Her voice was full of emotion. “What’s, uh, what’s his name?” Maddie asked.
“It’s, uh, it’s Tommy,” Buck said.
“Tommy,” Maddie repeated.
Buck could see that she was putting it together, so he waited.
“The, uh, the pilot. The one that flew you guys out to the cruise ship. That’s when you met. Oh my god, that’s…wow.”
“I know,” Buck said. “He’s amazing, Maddie. Not just because he’s my soulmate but he’s just so confident and strong and did I mention how hot he is? I can’t stop thinking about him all the time. I had no clue it could be like this.”
One week since he’d kissed him and Buck hadn’t known a time when he was as excited about someone as he was about Tommy. Tommy still made him nervous, he made him blush and he made him giddy.
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Maddie said.
“He’s excited to meet you too,” Buck said. “Would have brought him over today except he had plans.”
“Where is he now?”
“At a pick up basketball game with Eddie,” Buck said with a roll of his eyes. “Now I have two of them trying to get me to go.”
Maddie grinned. “Do they know you don’t like basketball?”
“Who doesn’t like basketball?” Chim asked, entering the kitchen and heading to the fridge.
“Me,” Buck said.
Chimney grinned at him when he closed the fridge door. “Oh, is Eddie still trying to get you to go with him? I thought he said he was going with Tommy.”
“He did,” Buck said.
“Tommy’s so cool,” Chim said. “You know, he flew Eddie to see a fight in Vegas two weeks ago. We should hang out with him more, Maddie. I can’t believe I didn’t invite him to the wedding.”
“I’d really like to meet him,” Maddie said. “I’ve heard so much about him.”
Buck shared a look with Maddie. On the one hand, he knew it’d be a little funny for Chimney to find out about him and Tommy at the wedding, but on the other hand, Buck didn’t think he could keep it in for much longer.
“About that,” he said.
“What?” Chim asked. “What’s going on?”
“You know how Maddie asked you to add a plus one for me.”
Chimney coughed. “Yeah…very inconvenient Buck. It’s why we had RSVPs and you didn’t check the box. You have to check the plus one box, Buck. Don’t tell me you changed your mind. That is too late. I don’t care who you bring…you have to bring someone and Ravi doesn’t count, he has his own invitation. Just don’t invite the death doula. We don’t need that kind of energy at our wedding.”
Buck shared another look with Maddie.
“Spit it out, Buck,” Chim said.
He took a breath. Then, he just said it: “My plus one is Tommy,”
He saw the confusion cross Chim’s face and he didn’t seem to get very far in trying to figure out why, before he turned to Buck.
“I thought he’s been hanging out with Eddie, not you. And I only introduced you to Tommy the night we flew out into that hurricane. What’s…what’s going on?”
“Tommy is my soulmate,” Buck said.
That brought Chimney up short. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, eyes wide as he stared at Buck and then his eyes went to Maddie as if he was trying to figure out if she was somehow in on the joke with Buck.
“You’re pulling my leg,” he said. “How is that — wait, since when are you — wait, wait, I introduced the two of you! I did that!”
Buck laughed. “Yeah, Chim. I’m so glad you did.”
“So, does that mean you’re into guys now?”
Buck gave a quick nod. “I didn’t know I was, but it’s this thing that’s been missing for me and now I know. I’m bi.”
When he looked towards Maddie, he saw her actually wipe away a tear and it felt so good to know it was a happy tear and that he wasn’t making her cry for other reasons.
“Now we really have to hang out with Tommy more,” Chim said. “Welcome him to the family.”
“And we’re even,” Buck added.
Chim just laughed. “Yeah, Buck, I guess we are. Although…you know I did save his life once. He’s paid up on that favor, but you haven’t.”
Maddie reached over to hit Chim on the shoulder.
—
“I take it,” Lucy said, “things are going well. I mean, going by your good mood lately.”
Tommy rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Kinard, spill it.”
Tommy sighed. He’d told Lucy all about him and Evan finally getting the time to talk the last time he saw her. He didn’t tell her about how he’d messed up a bit, or how he’d had to cut a karaoke night short in order to get to Evan. Those were things she would never let go, but she knew that he and Evan were together.
“It’s going really well,” Tommy said. “He’s great.”
“And he’s into you,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to say I told you so…but I was right.”
Tommy just laughed. “In this single instance I’m glad you were right.”
A call came in, just then. Brushfire that was growing and might become something even bigger. Tommy gave Lucy a nod and then he was off. The copter he would take out was the one that they’d been filling up with the retardant he’d need to drop and so it was quick work and he was in the air in less than ten minutes.
The sky was blue, almost cloudless and Tommy loved it up there. He loved the freedom. He’d never quite managed to find that anywhere else. Even in the army, when he was flying into dangerous places and the chances were that they might get shot down, there had been something very liberating about lifting up into the air. He felt free with Evan. He felt like he was flying except his feet were on the ground.
—
Bobby was the one to remind Buck that he and his soulmate had to register the bond. The registry was to keep track of how many soulmate pairs existed, it helped with research. It also created a familial bond on paper. It wasn’t exactly mandatory, but it was useful. Buck was also well aware that for the jobs that they had it took care of a big thing: making each other their emergency contact.
He and Tommy had been together for three weeks. Buck had never before felt so settled and at ease. They hadn’t even done much more than kissing and hand holding. It was so chaste that Buck didn’t know if he could handle any more cold showers. He had never gone this slow in any relationship after his teen years. It was nice, though, even if the anticipation was just about killing him.
“I take it you figured everything out,” Bobby said, looking up from where he was chopping veggies.
“Yeah,” Buck said with a grin. “It’s not platonic after all.”
Bobby smiled and if he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Glad to hear it. You deserve this, Buck.”
“I’m, uh, I’m bisexual, Bobby,” Buck said. “And my soulmate, it’s…my soulmate is Tommy. I met him the night we flew out to rescue you and Athena.”
Bobby set down the knife and his gaze was suddenly fixed on Buck. In the next moment he’d rounded the island and Buck was pulled into a tight hug that lasted several seconds before Bobby let him go.
“I am so proud of you, Buck. You’ve changed and grown so much since you first came in here. You know, you are a bit alike. I only worked with Tommy for a little while before he transferred. I don’t know him as well as I’d like, but I know he’s a good guy. Athena and I probably wouldn’t be here without him — or any of you, really. I’m happy for you both. You’ll have to bring him for dinner with Athena.”
“Uh, sure. Yeah. I’m sure he’ll love that. You know, he’s told me he missed your cooking.”
Bobby chuckled as he walked back to his cutting board. “I know you’ve perfected some of my recipes.”
“It’s not the same,” Buck said.
“We’ll plan for a night soon. Don’t forget to register the bond.”
“I won’t.”
“Won’t what?” Hen asked, taking the stool next to Buck’s.
“Won’t forget to register my soulmate bond,” Buck said.
“Oh, that,” Hen said. “There’s a lot of paperwork, but it’s easy. How, uh, how is it all going?”
It was going amazingly, better than any relationship that Buck had ever had beforehand. Some of it, he knew, was their compatibility — the thing that made them soulmates and just fully made for each other. Then, there was everything else.
“It was bumpy at first, but so far everything’s been great. He’s coming with me to the wedding. Probably the bachelor party too.”
Hen shook her head at once. “Hasn’t Chim already told you he doesn’t want one?”
“But it’s tradition,” Buck argued. “Bobby, tell her.”
Bobby shook his head and went back to chopping. “I’m not getting involved in this.”
Buck eyed both of them. “He is having a bachelor party.”
Hen just let out a sigh. “I’m not stopping you, Buck, but I’m also not getting involved in getting Chim to go to it when he doesn’t want it in the first place.”
Buck rolled his eyes. Chim would get on board once Buck explained his plan. There was a karaoke lounge they could go to and it could even be themed somehow. Chim deserved a party and not just because he was getting married…it was because he’d introduced Buck to Tommy and changed Buck’s entire life around. This wasn’t his wedding gift to them, but it was a gift to Chim.
—
“You finally wore him down,” Tommy said, not able to keep his amusement out of his voice.
“He wanted the party, just didn’t know it,” Evan said. “Only issue now is it took so long to get him to agree, the only day available at the place is the day before the wedding. We’ll make it work.”
“And that might keep it from getting out of hand,” Tommy said.
Evan nodded. “I promised Maddie he’d be in bed by one at the latest. It’s the only way she’s letting us do it that night.”
Tommy still wasn’t entirely clear on why Evan was pushing for a party that the groom didn’t even want, but he also liked how cute Evan was about the whole thing. He’d seen him making a list the other day and he didn’t know that sliders, drinks, and karaoke needed that much planning, but he was leaving Evan to it.
Evan finished cleaning the counter. The oven was on with the lasagna Evan had made them inside. A salad sat on the counter. It was already starting to smell good and Tommy was excited to try Evan’s version of one of Bobby’s recipes.
“How long until that’s ready?”
“Forty-five minutes,” Evan said.
“Good,” Tommy said, “I haven’t tried out your new couch yet.”
“It’s a couch,” Evan said, but followed him out of the kitchen.
“One where I haven’t kissed you yet,” Tommy said as he sat, sprawling himself on it because he could and because it was big enough for him to do so.
The couch was dark gray and a bit bulky in a way that meant it was easy to spread out across it. The cushions were just the right amount of soft. Evan had picked it out after agonizing over a few different options and it had only been delivered earlier that day. Tommy thought he’d chosen well.
“Come here,” Tommy said.
“Where, you’re taking up the whole thing,” Evan said with an amused chuckle.
Tommy reached for him, grabbing his hand and pulling lightly. Evan toppled on him a little harder than Tommy had planned, but he didn’t mind. He wrapped an arm around Evan’s back to keep him there and Evan situated himself until one of his legs was between Tommy’s, their torsos pressed together.
“What do you think?” Evan asked.
“About?”
“Couch?” Evan asked.
“I’ll tell you after,” Tommy said and drew him into a kiss, hand on Evan’s neck.
Kissing Evan would never get old, not when Evan was so enthusiastic and into it and not when he knew just how to drive Tommy crazy. It had been a full month since their first kiss and since they figured everything out and Evan had been driving him insane since then. Tommy had known from the start things wouldn’t go too fast between them, but Tommy was starting to feel like a teenager with the way his body was reacting to Evan.
Evan was new to being with a guy and Tommy knew first hand how it felt, so the last thing he wanted to do was pressure Evan into anything he wasn’t fully ready for. Not that Evan wasn’t eager. He kissed Tommy dirty, like he couldn’t wait to do more. A few times already they had both gotten more than a little carried away, biting love marks on each other’s necks and their hands wandering a bit south.
* * *
At the moment, Evan pulled away, reaching for Tommy’s shirt and dragging his hands over Tommy’s stomach and chest. The shirt, rucked up to his armpits, Evan bent down and he kissed Tommy’s stomach, teeth nipping lightly as he made his way up, pausing at the scar Tommy knew was there to brush light kisses over it and then after a slight moment of hesitation, his mouth was on Tommy’s nipple.
Tommy let out a sound that was half moan and half groan. Evan laughed and then he was back at Tommy’s lips, kissing him lightly.
“Okay?”
Tommy just kissed him again in answer.
They were so pressed together that it wasn’t difficult to feel Evan, not when he moved so much and when his hands were all over Tommy’s chest. And then, Evan sat back and he reached for his shirt and drew it up his body until it was off and Tommy had no idea where it landed because his eyes had more important things to be consumed by.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Evan shirtless, but this felt different. Purposeful. Evan was all hard panes and muscle.
“Evan,” he said, breathless and wanting.
“Tommy,” Evan said in return and the warm palms of his hands were on Tommy’s stomach, one finger catching on the trail of hair that went down into his pants towards his very hard and twitching dick.
Tommy gasped and Evan’s fingers made their way up his chest, palms rubbing lightly on his nipples and taking Tommy’s breath away. His fingers even traced the scar he’d kissed earlier.Tommy reached for him, hands landing on Evan’s hips. His skin was warm and soft and perfect. All of him was perfect.
“Shirt off,” Evan said.
Tommy had to sit up to make it happen, bringing him and Evan closer still and somehow Evan shifted his weight and he was straddling Tommy at the waist. When Tommy lay back again, Evan sat back and his ass was right there, right on Tommy’s very interested cock. Tommy groaned and Evan made a gasping but unsurprised noise as he leaned towards Tommy and their lips met again.
Tommy’s hands climbed up Evan’s back, feeling his shoulder blades and then down his sides until they were on the top of Evan’s jeans. Evan groaned into the kiss and Tommy’s hand slid down, grasping Evan’s ass, groping at him and grinding up into him almost involuntarily.
Evan moaned against his neck, his hot breath making Tommy shiver and then Evan moved and it didn’t matter that they were still wearing jeans and underwear, because even feeling him like that felt like enough.
Evan kissed up his jaw and then his neck and down, giving each of his nipples attention that had Tommy throwing his head back. Evan, the little shit, just grinned into Tommy’s skin as he just kept kissing down and down and down. He only looked up once he’d made it to the top of Tommy’s jeans.
“I want to see you,” Evan said, voice almost shy. His cheeks were pink, but his blue eyes shone.
Tommy almost couldn’t find words. He could only nod and watch as Evan’s fingers fumbled with the button and then the zipper. Tommy helped him drag his jeans down some and he felt Evan pause.
“Hey,” he said and Evan’s eyes were on him again. “At your pace, right? You don’t have to do anything.”
“Right,” Evan said and he leaned over to kiss him again. “I want you so much, Tommy.”
Tommy had no idea where the self-restraint came from when Evan finally fumbled with moving Tommy’s underwear out of the way until his cock was out, tip more than a little wet and oh so absolutely hard.
“Oh,” Evan said and then his hand was there touching the skin around his dick…exploring. Teasing.
Tommy groaned too loud when Evan’s hand finally wrapped around him, moving and grasping in the most delicious way, his thumb touching the head and then because Evan didn’t do anything by halves, Evan’s lips and his tongue and the way that he groaned at the taste before going back for more. His eyes met Tommy’s and they were glinting and awed and Tommy was never going to forget Evan looking at him like that. Not ever.
He knew what it was like, the first time you touched a dick that wasn’t your own, how it felt to actually know in the practical sense. Evan touched him a little too gently at first, but he touched him reverently. He also, seemed to catch on quick and his grip got a little tighter as he moved his hand up and down and Tommy could hardly keep watching because it was too much and Evan was enthusiastic even in this because Tommy didn’t expect it when his lips were there again, kissing down his shaft and then licking up until his mouth took in the head and the heat of his mouth was too much in a way that Tommy had never experienced before because usually this wouldn’t be all that it took, but this was Evan and he was — oh, god—
“Evan,” Tommy said. “Evan, I’m—”
Evan’s head lifted up and Tommy grabbed for his discarded shirt, unloaded right into it.
“Oh,” Evan said, eyes wide and his mouth spread into a self satisfied grin.
“I didn’t want to get it on the couch,” Tommy said as he dropped his shirt aside.
They both broke out into laughter and Evan leaned into him a bit. He found Evan’s eyes back on his spent cock, and then they moved up to Tommy’s face, still smiling. He leaned forward, kissing him. It was gentler, a slower kiss that Evan pulled back from until Tommy reached up to touch him, to cradle his face and bring him back. Oh, he was falling for him and falling fast. The kiss turned harder and Tommy dropped his hands to Evan’s waist, grasping him until he could turn them and push Evan to his back on the couch.
“Wha—” Evan said.
“Let me take care of you,” Tommy said and he kissed Evan again, kissed his jaw and then his lips again.
“Don’t,” Evan said with a gasp that almost made Tommy sit up and let him go except that Evan held onto him. “Don’t stop.”
Tommy reached between them one handed and Evan nodded as he kissed Evan’s neck, licking up a bead of salty sweat. He opened Evan’s jeans and Evan helped to bring them down alongside his underwear and Tommy groaned into Evan’s clavicle when his hand finally grasped him. Evan was big. He was girthy, he was beautiful and he just held him for a while, touched the wet head with his thumb. Evan was shaking, letting out the most gorgeous little whines. Tommy wanted to taste him, he wanted to feel Evan’s cock on his tongue and in his throat and—
“Can I—”
“Anything,” Evan said, breathless as he cut his question off.
Tommy chuckled. He kissed down his chest, not lingering, though one day he would. He would kiss every inch of Evan. Then, he was there and Evan’s cock twitched under his gaze. Tommy looked back up at Evan who was looking at him, mouth slack and eyes dilated. He was too gorgeous. Too amazing. He was his.
Tommy took it slowly, tongued the very tip and then ran his mouth down the underside, listening for Evan’s gasp and groan and how he whimpered. And then, he lowered his mouth over the tip and down. Breathing through his nose and getting all the musk and sweat and sex…the Evan of it all. He was never going to have enough of this.
Evan didn’t last long and Tommy let him cum in his mouth, and even then, what he couldn’t swallow dripped down his chin when Evan’s spent cock left his mouth. Evan looked at him almost lazily, blinking and smiling. He reached for him and Tommy moved so he was leaning over him and he was just a little surprised when Evan wiped his own cum from Tommy’s chin before he brought that finger to his own lips and then, because that wasn’t enough, he pulled Tommy into a short but sweet kiss.
* * *
“That’s one way to break in a new couch,” Evan said, eventually.
He felt Evan’s laughter more than heard it. Tommy pressed their foreheads together. He closed his eyes. He took in the moment. He had never felt happier, never felt as hopeful, never known with such surety that he’d found somewhere to belong; someone to belong to.
—
Buck would have laid with Tommy on his new couch for a lot longer, but he could admit that with both of their pants not even all the way down their thighs and their dicks hanging out, things were only heading in the direction of not comfortable. Buck went up the stairs to the bathroom up there while Tommy took the one downstairs. He cleaned himself up, got into a clean pair of boxers and pants and shirt because he had no idea where in the living room his other shirt had ended up.
“Hey, Evan, I’m gonna need to borrow a shirt,” Tommy called up.
“I’m not opposed to keeping you without,” Buck called back even as he searched his closet for something that might fit Tommy.
He settled on one of his bigger LAFD t-shirts and even then when Tommy put it on, it was tight across his chest, highlighting his pectorals in a way that it was almost like he still wasn’t wearing anything.
“I like you in my clothes,” Buck said.
His hand landed on Tommy’s chest, crawling up to his neck, breath catching as he remembered what had happened on his couch. How it had felt to have Tommy’s body above him and under him and his mouth and his touch. If there had been any question about Buck’s attraction to men, it had been obliterated the moment that he had Tommy’s dick in his hand and all he’d felt was longing and a deep want. Buck had always loved sex and sex with Tommy was everything. They’d barely even done much and yet it left him so warm and so wanted and so satisfied at the same time as hungry for more.
“How do you feel?” Tommy asked.
“Amazing,” Buck answered and he pulled Tommy to him and into a kiss.
Tommy’s arms were around Buck, pulling him in flush against him and they swayed on the spot as they kissed until they were both breathless, and even then they stayed in their embrace, neither ready to let go.
“How about you?” Buck asked.
“Me?”
“How do you feel?” Buck asked.
“Like I’ve found where I belong,” Tommy said.
Buck hummed. “Yeah, I think we’ve both found that.”
#911 abc#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#bucktommy fic#tevan#kinley#911 fic#buck x tommy#you can find me where the skies are blue
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One idea I've been tinkering around for a few years. I'd love your thoughts. It's very similar to your Tim Rules the Universe idea....
It's a 'royalty au' where Tim was born the prince but had to leave the planet due to an evil uncle (who wants to be king) at three.
Evil uncle killed Tim's original parents, and the Drakes had the unfortunate task of raising a child. They were special operatives for royalty. They had never considered having children, but now it was their job.
(They weren't very good at it. After all, they had no concept of how much attention/care children needed).
Flash forword a few years, and Tim is exhausted and working his butt off for Bruce. He's proven the man is alive, saved him from time... all the good stuff.
Someone knocks at the Wayne Manor door.
It's the previous kings butler (servant, whatever). The people are asking for Tim back. The uncle sucks and Tim is eighteen. He can rule.
Tim is annoyed that his family now knows. He didn't want them to treat him differently.
(But he says yes and comes to the planet. He hadn't been there since he was three after all.)
The planet has had civil wars after civil war over the rightful king. It's in ruins (except the royal castles and a few spots)
Tim has his work cut out for him to get these people to like each other and him. The batfamily is WORRIED about him.
Jason insists on being Tim’s bodyguard. Tim shrugs. Why not? He wears his red helmet and loves it when the lesser royals (dukes, duchesses) make a fuss about not seeing his face. The previous leader of the royal guard doesn't understand why his king replaced him before even meeting him, but tries to accept Jason as his boss. Eventually, the other royal guards assume red is their kings favorite color and add red bits to their uniforms where they can. (Jason loves it!)
Anyway, the concept is Tim in this new world with alien politics (but I'm not sure what all they should be... Maybe he doesn't want to marry his betrothed. Stuff like that.) But I want it to be funny.
Would love to hear your thoughts!
This is a fantastic AU idea ^^
One thing to note that would be absolutely hilarious to go into: Tim's "fake" uncle.
Tim, because he thinks it's funny, put the evil uncle's name as his "fake" uncle. He then hired an actor to play a waaaay better version of him. That way, he would be lying about who his uncle is, not that he has one. The funny conundrum about this is, when Bruce discovers that the uncle is an actor, there are no records of Tim's actual uncle. This leads Bruce to the conclusion that Tim made up the entire uncle.
Fast forward several years later when the Bats find out. I bet Bruce is bashing his head in at the fact that the uncle WAS real. Tim didn't lie about that.
That's the tricky part about Tim. You don't know when he's telling the truth or not because he hides it under several layers and within itself.
The way you talked about the Drakes and Tim leads me to believe that all of them are an alien species. If you'd like to get more into that (what makes them different from humans, what is their culture like, do they speak a different language, etc.), I would be thrilled to learn more.
If the Drakes are human, them having an alien baby thrown at them as they are kicked off planet excuses why they maybe didn't know how to raise Tim.
If they are aliens, did they know English before they got to earth? The culture shock (and maybe different requirements/guidelines for human parenting) could have just confused the hell out of them.
I hope Tim, even from the distant Drakes, was raised in his native culture (or at least got some connections to it throughout his childhood). There's definitely some angst that can be explored there (including references to the stars).
If Jason went with Tim, I bet some of the Outlaws did as well. Kori would probably give Tim great advice on being alien royalty (and all that mess).
Hmm... perhaps the Drakes became rich and integrated into Gotham high society to do a weird form of prince training? They obviously didn't have the resources available that they should have had, so they made do.
Perhaps part of the reason the Drakes were archeologists was to grab the things previous alien ancestors left behind when they visited Earth. It's a way they can bring Tim a piece of his home world.
Questions: If Tim left at three, he might not remember that he's a prince. Do the Drakes keep reminding him (maybe some angst about the emotional separation due to them technically serving him [which can be a Bruce and Tim parallel])? Does Tim remember his bio parents? Does he consider Jack/Janet to be his parents, or does he consider himself an orphan until Bruce adopts him?
Now, for court humor: Customs, traditions, rituals, and customer service.
Tim is trying to put a planet back together and his advisors/council spring random ass rules on him.
A/C: "Overlord, sir!"
Tim: *sighs and puts his head in his hands* "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"
A/C: "My apologies, overlord, sir."
Tim: *deeper sigh* "Just continue."
A/C: "You can't send those supplies out."
Tim: "... The supplies that will save people from starving to death?"
A/C: "Yes, overlord, sir."
Tim: "And why not?"
A/C: "Grain and seeds must be sent separately and three weeks apart! You must also dance before their departure!"
Tim: "... what the fuck?"
Stuff like that where Tim or Jason (or other Bats if they are there) get informed about strange restrictions. Tim can't change too many rules (no matter how weird they are) cause he wasn't even raised on planet. This is a reason some folks don't want him to rule them (and thus his position is unstable).
More humor could come from Tim listening to his subjects and their problems. The more ridiculous it is, the better.
Little hc you may or may not want to add: I think Damian would spend the most time going over different customs/rules/histories of the planet out of the other Bats.
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I have a request, if youre taking them.
Baldwin's wife sneaks into the battle in 1177 with sixteen year old Baldwin, his reaction and what not. make it your own, just thought this would be cool
King Baldwin x reader - My archangel
A/N: I absolutely LOVE this idea! I've never thought of a scenario like this before, so thank you so so much for the suggestion<3
Sorry if this took so long btw, I haven't been active lately because of school and work😔😔
As always, painting is "The Crown of Love" by John Everett Millais (it's so funny to me for no reason, it just makes me think of how Baldwin would be physically dragging you out of danger).
Summary: During the most importante battle of his life so far, the last person king Baldwin expected to see on the battlefield was his newlywed wife
Warning: war, but it's more of a background thing, mentions of injuries and a hint at misogynism
Word count: 5433
It had been decided. Jerusalem's knights and soldiers would be riding towards Saladin's army at dawn, led by their king, King Baldwin IV of Anjou. Your Baldwin.
The mere idea that tomorrow your husband would find himself fighting face to face against the most fearsome of his enemies terrified you, especially knowing that you could do nothing to protect him. He had expressly said he did not want you or his sisters anywhere near the battlefield, it was too risky. You should have waited for his return, for him to be victorious astride his steed, now lying lifeless on a black bed.
You closed your eyes, begging your mind to spare you from the projection of that macabre image in your head. But you could do nothing against these emotions, which were tearing at your mind and spirit. You could not remain still and impassive, obedient and elegant as you always were as a young princess, then as a wife and now as a queen.
No, that image of you had to slumber, if only for a while. You did not have your kingdom on your mind at that moment, only Baldwin and the overwhelming desire to be close to him.
You cursed your nature for making you a woman, for not having had the opportunity to learn the art of arms and war. You cursed your long robes that prevented you from any daring movement, and your limbs because even if they were able to move freely they would not have the strength to even wield a sword.
As Baldwin fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by the fatigue that this imminent battle was costing him, and you held him close to your heart as if to compel him eternally into your embrace, you weaved a plan in your mind. A plan not to leave him alone at dawn, to stay as close to him as possible.
Because even if it was the day God would claim your husband's soul, at least you wanted to be near him as he took his last breath.
How selfish you were, not even death would have been left for him. But then again, poets have been saying it for centuries, love is the gravest form of madness.
You woke up in an empty bed, the spectre of a kiss floating on your bare shoulder where Baldwin's lips had rested a few moments before, when he had to arouse himself to lead his army into battle. And despair pervaded you almost immediately, when when you woke up still no idea had come to your mind to stay by his side, after you had hoped that sleep would grant you a solution to your problem.
Unable to hold back tears of frustration and despair, you summoned your favourite handmaiden, your nurse, old to almost retirement but cunning as a mischievous child. You wept on her welcoming lap, clutching the fabric of her robe in your fists.
"Oh Agnes, how unfair is my fate as a woman. I am asked to stand by my husband's side all my life and yet I am denied a place beside him in these dark times. And they tear him from my arms and leave me here, alone and helpless, these monstrous Saracens!" She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, stroking the long hair that fell from your shoulders, which resembled the waves of the sea as they shook slightly from your sobs. "What can I do, Agnes? You who always have a quick tongue to give solutions to my every worry, tell me what I can do, before his horse and troops are too far away to be seen."
She, like a mother consoling a child who has injured himself while playing, took your face with one hand, inviting you to turn your gaze towards her. As she wiped the tears that streaked your cheeks with her thumb, she spoke softly to you, although her tone had a hint of her typical mischief in it: "My lady, weeping over your fate does not suit you. Instead, I propose you run. Make haste to the armoury, there you are sure to find armour left behind by some lord. Do you follow me? Well, you will simply have to put on the armour, carrying a pair of your husband's breeches underneath. And keep your helmet tightly closed, so that it cannot be seen that beneath the armour there is not a brutish knight, but a beautiful queen.
Go out of the palace through the servants' passages, and buy the horse of the first man you find. Not yours, in the royal stable they would notice his absence. And then all that remains is for you to ride, ride as fast as you can, to reach the Christian encampments as soon as possible, which by then will have been set up. Remain aloof, and reveal yourself to your husband only. And do so at night, in his tent, where no unwanted eyes can see your unexpected encounter. Is it all clear, my lady?"
You merely nodded frantically with eyes wide in wonder and relief. You practically leapt into the air, quick to grab the first slip you could find and a pair of cheap shoes that you could ruin with all your impending travels. You were about to leave the room, but stopped for a moment at the threshold, before turning back to Agnes to hold her tightly in a warm embrace.
"What would I do without you, my dear. You are even better than a guardian angel, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you left some white feathers behind!" The woman squeezed you affectionately before pushing you away playfully, urging you to get out and go and do whatever she directed. "It is the job of a nurse, to solve a child's problems in the same way as a mother. But hurry now or the battle will be over before you have even found a helmet!"
You laughed lightly as you wiped the dried tears from your cheeks, wasting no more time in rushing to get what was necessary to implement your plan. You rushed in front of the crate containing Baldwin's clothes, tossing robes and shirts in the air until you found breeches fit for a ride. You hastily donned them, then dashed down the long corridors of the palace.
Once in the armoury, you began to spin like a wheel, desperately searching with your eyes for any armour. You weren't picky, anything would have been more than enough: you'd have been fine with just a breastplate, chain mail, simple shoulder straps,… But most of all, you needed a helmet. And that you found almost immediately in your mad search. It was crudely moulded and already bore a few dents on the sides, but you paid no attention to it, it was enough to conceal your identity.
You also found a breastplate, and that was all you needed. You considered taking a sword with you too, but quickly changed your mind: it might be foolish to most, but you hoped that if an enemy found you unarmed, his honour would prevent him from challenging you to a fight.
And then, your focus on your sword quickly faded as you remembered that you still had no horse to reach the battlefield. Running awkwardly, like a child ambitiously trying on his father's far too large armour, you stepped back into the corridors, this time frantically searching with your eyes for a servant to follow towards the back exit.
It must have been a hilarious scene from an outside observer, a burly swineherd looking perplexed over his shoulder as a half-armed knight los eguiva like a tin puppet through the narrow corridors. But the scene was short-lived, for after a couple of turns you finally reached the palace exit, and emerged into the crowded streets of the city.
I had to move my helmet slightly above my eyes to better see the road around you, scanning the area for any horse. You could only see two camels, a few cows, a hen with her small flock of chicks, but no horse in sight. But just when you were about to give up hope, a mysterious force swept over you.
More than mysterious force, you were almost overwhelmed by a horse held on the bridle by a dirty, smelly man. "Out of the way, kid!" Looking at the man with wide eyes, taking good care to make sure your helmet covered your features well, you strained to speak in the most naturally deep voice you could muster, attempting to fool the yokel into mistaking you for a mere boy.
"Sir how much… how much are you asking for your horse?" He laughed, opening his mouth wide and exposing his few remaining teeth, yellow and frayed, and looked at you with a look of paucity and mockery, "You're going off to war without even a horse? The Saracens will impale you like a spit, son. Not that the battle would do you any good either way, with the child king we have, they will all be wiped out. before they even reach those bloody Arabs!”
You clenched your jaw so tightly that you thought your teeth might blow out from the pressure, so hard were you trying to suppress your anger at that disrespectful commoner. Breathing slowly, trying to calm your nerves, you spoke in stiff, icy words, "30 shillings. And you leave me the saddle" The man's eyes widened, incredulous at how much a young man was willing to pay for his old, shabby horse. But he wasn't complaining at all; in fact, better for him if the thirst for war drove the youth of today to such lengths. If only he had known that it was not the bloodlust of a daring young man that was before him, but instead the affectionate madness of a desperate wife.
He did not even answer, stretched out his open hand in front of him where a moment later a bag full of coins fell. He opened it for good measure, making sure the hefty sum was true. When he was satisfied, he slowly handed you the bridle, dazed by the small fortune he was holding.
You hoisted yourself awkwardly onto the horse, and it was not a quick operation as it seemed almost impossible for you not to fall off the horse, so much was the armor restricting your every move and weighing you down. After a few minutes of tribulation, you finally steadied yourself in the saddle and with a firm gesture of your leg, spurred the steed, which galloped off in an instant.
At a gallop, the city didn't seem nearly so big. Nor did the streets seem so crowded, perhaps because the people spread out like the sea in front of Moses as you passed, trying to escape the unpleasant fate of being swept away by the running horse and its mysterious rider. You felt as if you were sailing through the waves of the sea, with people's heads bobbing up and down, a current of movement pushing you closer and closer to the city gates. No one paid much attention to you as you crossed the threshold into the kingdom of heaven, most just thought you were a careless rider who had fallen behind, perhaps this was your first battle. Whatever your problem was, it was not about the wall guards. And so your figure disappeared from the sight of the remaining citizens in the city, vanishing into the vastness of the endless desert.
You did not know quite how long you rode, how many hours it took you before you began to locate even the slightest trace of the passage of the army of Jerusalem. At first it was only small details, marks left on the ground, mainly trinkets possibly dropped to the soldiers during the ride. Then the signs of their passage became more prominent, when around a small oasis you even found a few abandoned spears, probably forgotten back by some careless soldier.
And you stopped there for only a moment, as thirst would have prevented you from going any further. As you drank from the body of water, your mind travelled in thought to your husband; who knows if he too drank from this spring? And if so, how long has it been? Will he be far from here? What would he say when he saw you retracing the passage he and his troops were tracing? At that last thought a shiver ran down your spine, most likely he would not be very happy to know you were so close to danger. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image of the look that Baudouin would give you if he saw you at that moment, alone, barely armed in the vast and merciless desert, with no escort to protect you…
You only hoped that the surprise and joy of seeing you at such a tragic moment might cloud his mind from any concern he might have for you. In the meantime you had quenched your thirst enough. Regaining the reins of your horse, and after a series of ministrations to remount the saddle, you resumed your ride towards the battle with the unknown outcome.
As you rode with the wind blowing in your face, with nothing to entertain or distract you, your mind could not but return again to Baldwin. You could not help it, for fear for his fate had been tearing at your soul for days without respite, ever since it was announced that a battle would take place.
Baldwin was too young for all this. He was barely of marriageable age, he could barely reign without a regent at his side, he was hardly considered more than a child, many nobles even refused to call him an adult! And then there was his illness, which although not yet crippling, had already begun to expand its deadly effect on his body, numbing his nerves and making it impossible for him to wield his right hand properly. It was really unfair, that a man in his condition should lead an army to what everyone considered certain death.
Death at the hands of the Saracens, who were rumoured to be as many as ten times the number of the army of Jerusalem. A sob escaped from your mouth, followed by a faint stream of tears that ran down your cheeks, but they were short-lived on your face, the dry desert wind dried them in no time.
Only an instant seemed to pass, time to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the dried saline tears. Yet when your gaze focused again on the landscape in front, you saw a few hundred metres away a series of white tents, a few faint rows of smoke rising in the air, a massive cross set with precious gems, leaning against a rough wooden construction. It was the camp of the Jerusalem army.
Getting off your horse, you advanced hesitantly through the camp. Looking around, you noticed the stunned gazes of soldiers and horsemen watching you, some intrigued by your unkempt armor, some confused by your clumsy way of moving. But although the attention of their gazes made you stop breathing, fearing that you had been discovered, but fortunately it was short-lived, all the men were too tired from the exertions of the journey to investigate even this oddity. Taking you for an inexperienced little boy, they looked away from you and proceeded to drag their aching limbs back to their respective tents.
But although no one gave you more than the attention you give any stranger on the street, your heart would not stop beating furiously in its cage. You quivered at the mere thought of seeing your husband again, who although he had recently separated from you, already felt as if you had not seen him for an eternity. And your soul screamed at the idea that this might be the last time you would see him alive, and urged your legs to move faster. From hesitant strides, your gait grew brisk, impatient, and faster and faster until you burst into a frantic run through the expanse of white tents.
You scanned one, two, ten, a hundred, so many that by now they seemed to you an endless bundle of the same white cloth. But although your hope gave no sign of existing from your mission, your legs were beginning to give out under the constant strain you had subjected your body to for endless hours. You had no choice but to stop to catch your breath, resting your hands on your trembling thighs as you gasped for breath. And it was in that very instant, while you neither heard nor saw anything but the roar of your heart echoing in your ears and the rough ground flattened by the heavy footsteps of the soldiers, dark because of the blurred evening light, that you heard it. That voice.
"We will discuss this tomorrow, now I need the rest" "Certainly, my lord." The dialogue was followed by a knight of high lineage who came out of the tent in front of which you had pulled up to rest. He did not even dignify you with a glance, and you could not care less, for it was not him you were interested in. He was the first man to speak who had captured your complete attention, making the whole world fade away around you. It was a jovial voice, full of life despite obvious tiredness. It was a boy's voice. It was Baldwin's voice.
You sidled up to the curtain of the tent and, before opening your mouth, breathed slowly, tending not only to ease your nerves but also to modulate your voice to make it more masculine, deeper. The deception was to be revealed only when you were alone in the tent, away from prying eyes.
"My king, I know you are now bereft of strength, but grant me a brief interview with your majesty." You could visualize him rolling his eyes, puffing silently and running his good hand over his eyes, as he was always wont to do when any courtier demanded his attention while he was already lying in your arms. And as whenever this familiar event took place, similarly Baldwin made an effort in this case to stand up and mutter a reply, unaware that the subject behind the cloth was not just any boy, but his beloved wife. "I'm afraid I'm in no condition for a meeting at the moment. We will discuss whatever you need tomorrow." Panic grew in you hearing him so indisposed. After all, you should have expected it; he had more to think about than granting an interview to an anonymous soldier. In an instant, however, you changed your strategy, if you couldn't convince him you would have to bait him, "Please, sir, give me a few minutes! I bring with me a great surprise, a gift that I know will fill your heart with joy and restore your energy!"
He paused, as if weighing his options. At least that was what you thought, but in truth Baldwin was wondering if he was going crazy. If he had only dreamed, due to exhaustion and fatigue, that the voice speaking to him from outside the tent was not any young man's, but a disguise meant to hide the angelic melodic voice of his beloved wife. Were it really her, Baldwin would not have wasted a moment in throwing open the door for her, taking her into his arms and carrying her to his momentary abode, where her presence alone could be savored by him.
But he knew it could not be possible: you, his beloved wife whose image constantly pervaded his mind, were thousands and thousands of feet away, safe within the walls of your palace, as you had promised him. It was just not possible that you were the one hiding outside the tent, his hopes were just a cruel game of his mind. But by now his attention had been caught by the stranger so eager to talk to the king, to give him this phantom gift. Perhaps there would have been cause for concern, for thought of possible deception or assault by an enemy spy, but Baldwin did not give the thought more than a second's attention, before sighing softly and turning away, gazing back at the white fabrics of the tent. "Very well, come forward then. I hope this surprise you tell me about is really that formidable."
You came close to slinging yourself into the tent, throwing yourself into Baldwin's arms in an instant, and never letting go. But you still couldn't do it; it was too risky. You merely placed a hand on the side of the fabric that closed the curtain, pulling it to go through and letting it fall back behind you. And there you stood, facing Baldwin, clad in that armor far too large for your size, your heart pounding wildly from both the fatigue of the journey and the excitement. And he slowly, with a phlegm as elegant as the waters of a stream, turned to reveal the identity of his mysterious visitor, and you had already freed your face from the tortuous confines of the helmet you had worn for endless hours.
His eyes widened, wide as never before. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Baldwin could say he was truly, truly surprised. A thousand emotions passed from his face, from astonishment, to joy, to anger, and then to sadness, and then to astonishment again. For a moment he seemed about to open his mouth, but he stopped, opting instead to run to you, putting his arms around you, holding you tight and lifting you off the ground so tight was his grip. "My affection, how can you be so foolish! This is no place for you, so far from home, close to the enemy… You promised me you would stay safe, let me go, let me protect you! How could you do something so rash, you who are always so wise? Alone through the desert, what if the enemy had met you before I got here? What would I have done if your lifeless body, tortured by the Saracens, had been brought to me?"
His voice was exhausted, worn out by weariness and emotion that blocked his throat and threatened to make hot tears fall from his white cheeks. His words were harsh and stern, but devoid of any reproach: it was his fear speaking, his fear of seeing you the next day among the stacked bodies of war victims. And as he spoke he held your arms, shook you lightly, and in the process interrupted himself to place chaste kisses on your face, as if through the touch of his lips he was trying to convince himself that you were really there, standing before him. That it was not a mere illusion, a game of his mind.
Gently, with a touch as light as the morning wind, your hands went up his chest to his beautiful face, which you lovingly cupped. "I swore before God that I would not abandon my place at your side until the breath leaves my body. I have enjoyed with you wealth, pomp, and good fortune. But what you have granted me to witness is only half of the aspects of a nuptial union. Poverty, sickness, and the misery of war are the woes that touch every human being, and which two spouses are expected to face together. So now, my king, I beseech you, do not deny me a place at your side as you fight for the honor and freedom of the Holy Land, do not deny me a duty that has been mine since you and I were joined in eternity. It is unjust what you have subjected me to, to have to watch you ride away from me, toward the worst of dangers! And how could you think I would let you go just like that, without opening my mouth? Now we are even, I have retraced the path you yourself have traced, as bereft of safety as you were bereft of my presence. And now together we face this mortal danger, which, however, will never hold a candle to the pain that distance from you brings me!"
Baldwin's eyes softened, though they had a melancholy note in them. He inhaled with shuddering breath, and his grip became softer on your body, his hands descended from his arm to your waist, always holding you as close as physically possible.
"I was always told that silence honors women. This does not suit you, for depriving you of speech robs you of the royalty that makes you my queen. I ask your forgiveness, my angel, for leaving you alone in such a dark time. But try to understand my choice, how self-centered would I have been to ask you to come with me, in the midst of the greatest danger? It was simply too much for me, my beloved, the burden on my heart, begging me to do all that was permissible to keep you safe, even if that necessitated keeping you away from me. You are too far away now for me to send you back to the palace with an escort, and my heart could not bear to part with you for even another hour. You will stay here, ruling your people as you should. But please do not do me the wrong of setting foot on that bloody battlefield tomorrow. If even God decides that tomorrow my hour has come, and I fall lifeless on the bloody ground, do not move a step, do not show any sign of weakness. Don't follow me into the afterlife, don't even think about it: I know full well that I will never have the honor of lying eternally by your side, I am not worthy of it, so don't jeopardize your precious life in the name of an eternity by my side."
You did not respond, and silence fell. Squeezing together for another moment, you broke away shortly thereafter only to move to the bed set up in his tent, not as luxurious as his usual palace bed but certainly far more comfortable than the hay bunks in which soldiers elsewhere rested. Clinging to each other, you remained silent for a few moments. Or maybe it was hours, neither of you knew. Nor did you care, knowing how much time had passed, how much more separated you from the inescapable fate that awaited you the next day. Silent tears streaked your faces, sobs and sighs filled the air of the room. Then, you took courage to open your mouth, your voice soft and melancholy, weakened by weeping. "How unfair is our fate, affection. How bitter is my soul, knowing that tomorrow I must witness such a slaughter, an open-air slaughterhouse in which you yourself may become yet another victim."
As your first response you heard a snort from your husband, who squeezed you tighter for a moment, as if to secure you beside him, engulf you in his body. His lips pressed against your temple, placing a gentle kiss there, and they remained resting there even as he began to speak, "I know, I know my angel. I too wish things were simpler, that I could retire from this world, go and live with you, away from all this chaos, all this violence. You don't know how much I would have liked to abdicate, to leave the throne to Sybilla and her husband. They would have been good rulers, if only dear William had not passed away so soon. And so we have only to live like this, my beloved. To live perpetrated by the duties and horrors that mankind is capable of, all in the name of God's affection," a pause, a look that said a thousand silent words, and then resumed, "in the name of my affection for you… Tomorrow it will be an honor for me to fight, for like the valiant Lancelot, who fought to his last breath in the name of beautiful Guinevere. I do not care if my life will be endangered, if I return wounded and maimed more than leprosy is already reducing me. No, I don't care, because at the end of the day, whether my heart still beats or not, I know that I will return to lie in your arms.
And that makes up for all the injustices I will have to face." The last words were whispered, softened by a deep affection that numbed the senses and made everything as graceful as the clouds in the sky.
More tears streamed down your rosy cheeks, but you tried to conceal them by hiding your face in the crease of Baldwin's neck. The tone grew sterner for a moment as he resumed speaking, intimating you to listen with a grip on your shoulder. "Just promise me that, in case the battle goes badly, and I am dead and defeated and my whole army with me, promise me that you will escape, as far away as you can. Find shelter at the dwellings of those who have abstained from this conflict, find asylum in churches and in any sacred place you can find. Do whatever you can in order to protect your life. Protect what has always been dearest to me, your life."
"I will, I promise." You would have liked to retort, or much less say what he wanted to hear without really thinking it. But deception did not suit you, not toward Baldwin at least. And the mere thought that that might be his last will, which made you want to throw yourself to the ground and cry every tear you had in your body, also made it impossible for you to disobey that simple request, which after all was the request that you care for your own body and soul.
Whether Baldwin had taken your word for it or not, you were not sure, it was hard to say. It didn't matter, both of you were too tired to linger talking any longer, contrary to your usual routine of endless discussions on all kinds of topics. He whispered something to you in his native tongue, and although the language was vaguely unfamiliar to you and fatigue clouded your mind, you could still discern a sweet "I love you" among the words he spoke.
The next day your awakening was similar to the day Baldwin left Jerusalem: alone in bed, the place where your husband lay still warm. Outside the men were shouting orders and the horses were pawing in irritation at the din. In the distance you could hear the cries of the Saracens approaching, and the horns of war echoing in the air. You tried to peep your head out of the tent, but a guard surprised you right in front of the entrance. "My lady, his majesty has ordered that you do not leave the tent until the battle is over." The tone was authoritative and gentle at the same time, but his spear was stretched across the opening of the tent, an admonition far more direct than his words. You obeyed, as you had promised Baldwin that same evening, and without protest you retreated back inside the small temporary dwelling.
And so you stood there, alone and unaware of what was unfolding beyond the white tent. The last sound you were able to discern was your beloved's voice inciting his men to battle, before the din of war produced such a cacophony that it was impossible to understand a single sentence spoken. They rode for a few hundred meters until they reached the place where the battle would take place. They rode so far that the din they caused as they passed became muffled, barely audible. And perhaps it was for the best, for the distance muffled the atrocious sounds of war, of slaughter.
And so you waited there, within the four fabric walls, white as snow, that you feared at every moment might be stained with blood, friend or foe. You waited for the outcome of the battle, dumb with fear, with tension. You awaited Baldwin's return, dead or alive, victorious or defeated. And you did so by standing there, closer to him than was possible, exhausted and restless at the same time.
A/N: Yallll this was LONGGGG. i really really like how this turned out, and i hope you do too! I'm really sorry for how long it took me to write this piece, but I promise the following ones will take much much less🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, now I gotta go start working on those, feel free to leave a comment or feedback about this fic<3<3
#king baldwin x reader#kingdom of heaven#fluff#king baldwin iv#anonymous#f!reader#writers on tumblr#my fic#historical fiction#historical inaccuracies
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EDIT: This is a repost from a few days ago, because I hated the fact it was hidden for no reason.
Ok, here’s the first of my stupid JJK fanfic concepts.
The first one was ‘fix it’, for a relative use of the word, where Suguru, after killing the village, does call Satoru for help. He doesn’t know really what kind of help he’s asking for, or even what Satoru could provide, but he is being the bigger person here by asking, right?
It was supposed to be a comedy where Satoru and Shoko scramble around, trying to cover up what Suguru had done. Suguru is not actively helping it this. He’s been convinced to maybe not go and kill all the non-sorcerers, for the twins he had rescued to have a good life at least. But he won’t lie about what he did if someone gets too close to ask, and the twins love the fact they were saved by him and want to brag whenever they could. Satoru and Shoko have to make up so many lies.
Yaga: What happened to the village?!
Suguru: Huh? Oh I kil-
Satoru: -killed the curse! Nasty thing it was, setting the town a blaze and then blowing it up. There’s not even a house left.
Yaga:…. The damage looks like your red attack, Satoru.
Satoru: What? No. What? Ha! No. I wasn’t even there!
Yaga: Then how do you know the houses are gone?
Satoru: …. I read.
It ended up not really funny enough for me? And I also didn’t have much of an idea of how to continue it. Under the cut is what little I had lol
It started with a phone call in the middle of an empty town.
Well, actually, it started a few days before that, with a conversation in an empty classroom.
“You’re back early.” Suguru noted with dull surprise as Satoru walked in. ‘Dull’ seemed to be the only way he felt now a days, and looking at Satoru, he would guess the other boy felt the same way, with how exhaustion seemed to cling to him.
Still, Satoru managed to smile at him, much brighter than Suguru had been capable of lately. “Hey, Suguru!” He said, falling with all his weight in the chair meet to him. The chair tilted back at the force before falling back to all fours. “The higher ups messed up on the ranking of the last curse they sent me to.”
Suguru hated the flash of fear he felt, the most realized emotion he has had in what felt like months, even though he knew nothing would harm Satoru. “Oh?” He asked, in a calm that he didn’t actually feel. Satoru laughed. It didn’t sound like an actual laugh, almost grating against his throat.
“Oh yeah.” He huffed. “A grade 2. They sent me after a grade 2, Suguru! I don’t even have the words to express how outraged and offended I am right now.”
He didn’t sound outraged and offended. He just sounded tired. Still, Suguru settled in, waiting for the rant from his friend that was inevitably coming.
Except, Satoru didn’t. Satoru fell quiet, looking him up and down from behind his glasses.
“I skipped out on sightseeing to maybe catch you before your next mission.” He said. Suguru looked at him in surprise, and maybe a little pleased. Still, Satoru didn’t look happy. “I didn’t mean to get back so late, so imagine my surprise to find you in an empty classroom in the middle of the night.”
“Huh?”
“Suguru.” Wow, he had never heard Satoru sound so disapproving. “Suguru, it’s three am. And you’re sitting in an empty classroom. What’s wrong?”
What wasn’t wrong? Somehow Suguru didn’t Satoru would appreciate that answer.
Also, he hadn’t realized the time. He had sat in there to take a break before going to get dinner, having to work up the nerve to enter the admittedly pretty sparse cafeteria area.
“…Haibara thinks I’m a good person.” Suguru said at last, unable to help himself. Satoru looked at him in surprise, glasses sliding down his nose.
“Uh?” He tilted his head with a frown. “Well, duh. Course he does. That’s because you are a good person, Suguru.”
Suguru had nothing to say to that. Satoru’s frown deepened as the silence stretched on.
“…. Suguru?” He asked almost hesitantly, as if Satoru Gojo was ever hesitant in anything. “Do you… feel like you aren’t a good person?”
He shouldn’t talk about this. He shouldn’t bring it up. He shouldn’t even think about it. But his best friend was here, in reach, in a way that he hadn’t been in a while.
“I think… I think I hate them, Satoru.” He said hoarsely. Satoru paused.
“Eh? Who?”
“Them. The-The Mon-“ Suguru cleared his throat, looking away. “…the non-sorcerers.”
Satoru leaned back in his seat. “Oh.” He said quietly, like he was surprised. He didn’t say anything more.
“Didn’t you feel like this?” Suguru asked desperately. “Last year? When-“
He cut off. Last year, when Suguru found his not dead best friend carrying Riko’s lifeless body, looking at him with equally lifeless eyes, while all those-those cult members just clapped around them at a young girl’s death.
‘Should we kill them all?’ Satoru had asked him. Suguru had answered ‘no’ at the time, but now-
This time, it’s Satoru that goes silent, staring at him for a long moment. “….not really.” He admitted after a while. Suguru gulped, his curses burning in his stomach like acid. “I didn’t feel really anything last year, when I asked. I was pretty out of it. I don’t… think I could actually hate anyone.” He sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “That sounds exhausting to care that much, honestly.”
“Oh.” Suguru said, quietly, and then nothing else. Satoru didn’t let the silence settle this time, leaning forward with a sudden burst of energy.
“Ok!” He clapped his hands, the noise echoing in the empty room. “So you hate them! Let’s put a pin in that for the moment!” He smiled, a little stretched thin, and made a motion with his hands like he was pinning something to a cork board.
Suguru frowned, Yuki’s voice circling in his head. This did not feel like something he should ‘put a pin in’ right now. This felt like he should figure it out as soon as he could, to let one side win out before it tore him apart. “Satoru I-“
“Nope!” Satoru, the annoyance, put up a hand to silence him. “It is much too late for this! So, Haibara thinks you’re a good person, and you do not agree. What do you want to do about that?”
“I thought we were ‘putting a pin in it’. “ Suguru grumbled, crossing his arms. Satoru shook his head.
“You miss understand me!” He huffed. “It’s like you never listen! I know you, Suguru. Ignoring all this ‘hating non-sorcerers’ crap, there’s something else bothering you, right?”
Eh? Honestly, not really. The ‘hating non-sorcerers’ thing was taking up a large amount of his daily bandwidth.
But he could see what Satoru was aiming for- something else to focus on. When the main problem was too much, then let something else be the problem for a bit. It was a tactic usually used on Satoru himself, or Shoko on occasion when her medical classes got too much, but this was the first time it had been used on Suguru himself. It took him a minute to think past his bigger issues as a result, so far out of his comfort zone as he was.
Finally, he settled on, “Fine. I’m worried about Haibara, but it’s finally my own downtime and I’m exhausted. Not only that, but now you’re here, and we never get to hang out anymore.”
“Huh? Worried about Haibara?” Satoru sighed. “Yeah, the higher ups are shit about curse classification. And Haibara’s just a second year too.”
“We’re just third years.” Suguru felt compelled to say. Satoru laughed like he told some great joke, which maybe he did. He was only 17, but he hadn’t felt like a kid in a long time.
After a long moment of nothing but the sound of Satoru’s laughter, he calmed down, leaning forward on his knees as he took deep breaths. Then, he stood up, stretching as he did so. “Well then. Come on.”
“What?” Suguru hurried to stand up as well, to catch up to Satoru as he walked out the classroom door. “Where are we going?”
“To go check on Haibara, of course.” Satoru said, like it was obvious.
“Uh, no? Did you not listen to me?” Suguru asked, closing the door behind them. “I said that I was exhausted and that it was my off day!”
“And that you wanted to spend time with me. I heard you, I swear!” Satoru said, waving a hand. “But considering I found you at three am in an empty classroom, I’m going out on a limb here and saying that you won’t be sleeping tonight.”
Suguru didn’t have anything to say to that. Satoru kept talking, regardless of his lack of answer.
“So, let’s be productive and check on our little Kōhai! We only have two of those, so we gotta protect what we got!”
“Nanami will never like you.”
“Rude! Also probably true.” Satoru laughed, this time sounding much more genuine. “So, look. Well sleep on the train, and then hang out in town after checking on Haibara. And being out means that we can’t be assigned missions all willy nilly!”
They absolutely could. They had cell phones for a reason, and Yaga had their numbers. But Suguru could see the appeal to thinking otherwise, so he didn’t argue.
Satoru then threw something over his shoulder, forcing Suguru to catch it. “Here, catch.”
Suguru opened his hand slowly, falling into step with Satoru as they walked through the empty halls. It was a hair tie- more specifically, it was Suguru’s favorite hair tie, that he thought he had lost ages ago. He frowned, even as he reached up to pull his hair into a bun.
“Why are you stealing my hair ties?” He asked, making quick work of his hair with practiced movements. “What, want little space buns in your hair?”
“Hah! I would rock that and you know it!” Satoru said, hands in his pockets. “I just found that one, you know? And then I thought it would be a good luck charm!”
“That’s so lame.” Suguru rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think so.” Satoru said, with a hum. “I found you tonight, didn’t I?”
Suguru didn’t have an answer to that, and so he stayed silent.
———-
In the middle of a lifeless town of his own doing, Suguru called Satoru.
He was only half aware he was doing it. Standing in the middle of the street with only the half eaten corpses of his victims, and the groaning of his curses swirling around him, he was moving more on autopilot than anything else. Everything seemed both hazy and incredibly clear for the first time in a while, like he was no longer fighting himself but also having a major fucking breakdown.
He had a problem, and so he did the only thing he could think of- calling Satoru. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, dragging Satoru in his actions, in his consequences. Maybe he should have done this ages ago, asking Satoru to fix his problems like everyone else in their world seemed too. The thought left a rotten taste in his mouth, somehow even worse than the curses he ate.
A large part of him didn’t actually expect Satoru to pick up. Satoru rarely could answer when he was out on a mission, the veils doing too good of a job in cutting communications, and often forgot to return the missed calls later. So Suguru listened to the ringing once, twice, three times, waiting for the dial tone to start as he watched one of his curses slowly make its way to a body blankly.
Then the ringing went one for a fourth time, then a fifth, before being interrupted by an unexpected click and, “Hey, Suguru!”
Suguru’s mouth felt dry. The curse in front of him reached the body. He didn’t have the care to stop it from sinking its half formed claws into it.
“I got told you were on a mission.” Satoru continued. “Already done?”
Yes. Curse exorcised, curse ingested, village dead. Two out of three things weren’t bad.
“….Suguru?” Satoru’s voice turned confused, sounding almost small over the phone. “Is this a butt dial?”
Oh, right. He should probably answer.
“Can you even hear me-?” Satoru started to asked, only to be cut off.
“I killed everyone in town.” Suguru said bluntly. He finally shooed the curse away from the corpse once it started making a mess. He wanted no chance for any more monkey blood to get on him.
“….huh?” Satoru asked, more of an intake of air than an actual question. “Come, uh, come again? What village?”
“The village I was sent to.” Suguru answered simply, and then wondered why he was doing this. Why did he call Satoru, as if that would help anything.
“Ok, can I ask why?”
“Those monkeys had two girls in a cage, blaming them for what was happening.” Some of the anger came back, remembering what the monkeys had done, and he let his curses go back to the destruction they had been causing. It still didn’t cut through the haze as much as add to it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about something like that.
“Ah. The pin fell out.” Satoru said, much, much to calm for the situation. Was he in as much of a haze as Suguru? Unlikely. Actually, was this how Satoru felt last year, after killing Fushiguro, standing there surrounded by monkeys clapping for a young girl’s death? Satoru had said that he hadn’t felt much of anything, and maybe Suguru felt like that too. Or maybe Suguru was simply feeling too much, no longer at odds with himself but still drowning in emotion.
“-killed everybody?” Satoru’s voice filtered back in. Suguru blinked, not realizing that he had zoned out, and taking a step back in disgust as some blood splattered onto his shoes.
“The two girls.” He answered, in what he vaguely hoped was an actual answer to whatever Satoru had asked. “I saved them.”
“You certainly did something.” Satoru muttered, voice muffled. Suguru could almost see what he was doing- running around, doing something else while his cell phone was shoved between his ear and his shoulder. Then, clearer, Satoru said, “Suguru, listen, I’ll be there in just a second. Just… don’t do anything else, ok? Put the pin back for a minute.”
“The pin-?” Suguru tried to question, only to be met with the dial tone. He made a face, half heartedly, and slid his phone shut. He couldn’t believe the asshole hung up on him-
The air shook. Suguru held his breath, almost unconsciously, as the cursed energy of the town seemed to spark, dancing around him in ways that made his curses go haywire. There was almost a faint taste of ozone on his tongue, familiar, before everything snapped violently back into place, just like it had been.
Just like it had been, except for Satoru standing there, panting like he had overextended himself. Suguru blinked, mildly interested.
“You figured out how to do that?” He asked. Satoru’s head snapped over to him, like he hadn’t noticed him standing there before, as his breathing got under control.
“Not really.” He said with a half grin, obviously wanting to brag about his new abilities, even as his head tilted to the side to take in the mess Suguru’s curses have left. “This was my first time going so far. But you know what they say- Necessity breeds intervention!”
“I didn’t know you knew that saying.” Suguru answered easily, feeling both more grounded now that Satoru was there, and more out of control at the banter in the middle of a massacre. “You can actually read.”
Satoru pouted, forced, as he walked over. He avoided the bodies and blood easily. Suguru was a little jealous, the monkey blood starting to cool on his clothes.
“So mean Suguru!” He whined, glasses slipping down his nose as he gave him a once over. Satoru made a face. “You look like shit, and it’s not just the blood. When was the last time you slept?”
When was the last time he slept? He couldn’t think of the answer, but he didn’t want to tell Satoru that. He opted to say nothing, which actually might have been the worse thing to do, judging by the expression it caused.
“The fact that you won’t say is terrifying.” Satoru said, pushing his glasses back up. “Was it before this mission.”
Definitely.
“….before Haibara’s mission?” Satoru asked a bit more hesitantly, when Suguru stayed quiet. Suguru still didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop Satoru from looking frustrated and dismayed. “Oh my god. Suguru, what the fuck. No wonder you snapped and killed this village.”
“The monkeys deserved it.” He grumbled, looking away. He didn’t need to justify himself again- Satoru knew why he did it, why he had to do it. Satoru sighed.
“I told you to keep a pin in that!” He snapped, making that same stupid motion of placing a pin in something that he made a few days prior. “Whatever. Where are these girls?”
The two girls (that he still didn’t know the name of, fuck) were safe in a bed in the inn. The same inn where he had checked into what felt like years ago, but was in all honestly simply the night before. Before… everything. He pointed over to it, seeing Satoru follow his finger to the building. It was the most he could do, energy failing him now that someone else was there to take over.
One by one, the curses around them disappeared, going back inside of him as he lost the concentration to keep them out. He could tell Satoru noticed, judging by the way he looked around.
“Suguru.” He looked down, staring as Satoru reached forward to grab his hand. “This is very important. Did you ever tell the school about the curse from Haibara’s mission?”
He shook his head slowly, confused. There had been no time to do so. They had gotten to where Haibara’s mission was just in time to knock the younger boy out of the way from what had been probably a killing move, and then exorcised the curse quickly, in a way that Nanami and Haibara’s simply weren’t capable of. One hit of Red from Satoru and the curse was easy pickings for Suguru to eat, as much as he didn’t want to. When the four of them made it back to the campus, Yaga had new missions for him and Satoru immediately. Suguru never got around with telling anyone about the new curse.
(He briefly thought about the train ride home, with Haibara’s hero worship awkwardly directed at them, and Nanami’s mutterings about just leaving everything to him and Satoru, instead of risking their own lives. Suguru’s mouth felt dry again.)
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I'm a little shy! But I would like to express my amazement and admiration! A while ago I found your Shadow Chase art, I loved it and became a fan, you create very funny stories and your art is beautiful, but that's not the point, I started following you because of that, but then I realized that you have many others projects and You are also very busy with your personal life. My question is how is everything organized and planned to advance a project despite academic/work responsibilities? I've seen that you even have collaborations with others and I keep thinking "this person is great."
As a final note, I just want to leave my good wishes and hope you have a nice week. <3
Gosh, so many compliments in one ask, I‘m still a little loss for words. Thank you so much for reading my work and looking into my other projects, collabs and art! I hope you‘ve been enjoying them. ❤️
I think there is no denying that I need to organize myself a little bit to make everything work. I think I‘ve always used drawing, especially drawing comics, as a way to breathe and when I started uni I promised myself I would continue drawing somehow. The first semester was hell, but I finished all the way. 💪 And I had the same mindset for working, so when I started this year I was very motivated to draw. Lol I think it also helped that I had several different projects to work on so when I wasn’t in the mood for black and white I would move to something colorful. Comics also offer the possibility to work on different parts. Do I want to work on the story, on the storyboards, on the actual drawings or just editing…? A lot of options. And this is something which I heard on a video on AI but artist and creative people in general don‘t create in other to have more content but to get something out of their head and feel the satisfaction of creating a certain idea and I felt that very much. And then there is the joy of collabs and while there were unfortunately more failed attempts at collabs I’m very glad for those which eventually resulted in great projects. ❤️ I might have to take actual breaks from drawing when I get back to my thesis. I finished all the work but need to write the discussion part and wow, how much I don‘t wanna work on that.
Currently I use my time on commutes for drawings digitally or making storyboards. In the evening I finish private stuff and when time is left I work on traditional art. Shadow Chase is the only project where I try to have an overview on how many pages I have done and want to finish before the next upload. Other works can usually go up once finished. When I create something for fan projects like zines, bigbangs, etc. I usually just try to finish said project right away. I don‘t like procrastinating (except my thesis I guess) and rather have stuff than can be finished done right away and focus on my other projects again. Shades of Tourmaline was definitely my biggest collab project yet and with the amount of art planned it took like 3 years to finish because that was something I couldn‘t get done right away. 😂 fortunately clef was very patient with me (and kept me distracted with new collabs, oops).
The short answer would be I try to draw as much as possible because it is just a lot of fun with the additional bonus of entertaining a few people. ❤️
#I hope I don‘t sound smart or anything#But drawing is honestly just a lot of fun#And working on ideas in general#Getting them out#That‘s the life#And sometimes I just get to talk to really cool people because of that too 😎#Thank you again for looking into my work 💕
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also addition to the whole manager thing
1. She def wouldn’t know what the hell to do with herself at first and just sort of followed around the team and would talk/interact unless given permission. Kind of a lost puppy
2. Probably Paige Kk Ice or Azzi who made her come out of her shell for the first time (if we’re talking earlier team it was def Dorka and u won’t change my mind)
3. She lovvves practicing with them but lowkey gets so tired because she’s literally a baby trying to keep up with fully physically mature adult women and that just doesn’t happen 😭 and will never admit she’s tired. She is lying and Paige and others ended up carrying her out of practice after she fell asleep on the bench on more than one occasion (which she is horridly embarrassed by once she comes back and always gets squirmy and embarrassed if someone mentions it.
4. Probably ended up falling asleep on a few of them at some point on a long bus ride (Ice, Aliyah maybe Paige). Doesn’t know what to do when she wakes up with someone literally hugging her to them like a teddy bear or when she discovers Paige Azzi and Kk have been taking photos and captioning them stuff like “our little teddy bear 🧸 “ just to get on her nerves a bit and truly bully her in older sibling fashion)
5. She is there babbbby omg can not emphasize this one enough. like they get so protective and fond of her it’s not even funny. so now she has like 10+ adopted parents. Basically can get away with anything.
6. Once got lost at an away game at Iowa and had to be returned to UConn by some big rival (idk i just picture someone else big like Kate Martin or smth just grabbing her sweatshirt hoodie like the scruff of her neck and lightly dragging her back over to UConn after getting lost and then they all scold her for worrying them 😭) and then they just look at Kate like hi 👭
7. She’s got no idea wether she’s supposed to accept or reject the affection so just kind of sits there at first like 🧍♀️ when they first hang out but then after a few weeks is very content with it.
8. One tinnny lil child when she first joins like 5’3 and barely a hundred cus she’s literally like 13 and hasn’t hit a growth spurt. I feel like Kk and Nika would kind of hold it above her that their taller just cause their on the shorter side compared to the rest of the team and tell her to drink more milk. She hates it LMMMMAO and swears she’ll grow taller than them one day (which is a longgggg way off)
9. Nervous af around other teams coaches or players escpeicslly when she attends a pregame meeting or smth as a manager and would literally want to hide if she got acknowledged (esp by some big named player like Angel or Caitlin or Kate or Juju or someone like that)
10. She’s probably a point guard or shooting guard and clicks a lot with Paige because of it
11. They give her a lil hoodie with the UConn logo and what they think is her future number (9) and it’s like a lost n found tag for her (someone just sees her wandering around with it on and then they see UConn manager and are like “welp guess i gotta bring their child back”
-🦦
THESE ARE SO SO CUTE im wishing i was this kid i want to hangout with them 😪😪
YOU GOT THE DORKA THING it definitely would’ve been her if we were talking about back when she was on the team
#🦦 anon#i love my anons#uconn wbb manager hc#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#kk arnold#ice brady#aaliyah edwards#azzi fudd#dorka juhász
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Hi again. I've continued to read through... well, whatever the almighty algorithim feels like suggesting (searching here is hard even when you have an idea where to start, which I don't), and my mental state can be best represented by this little gem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZWK5IBuVMM&t=298s (Is this necessary? No. Do I think it's funny and worth sharing? Yes, and to an extent that's kinda what this site is all about)
Anyway, a pretty common thread I've noticed in your theories is "Summer is an up-to-now-offscreen agent of Salem by choice." While you definitely make a good case even from the limited amount I've seen, I have to ask: when and where did these thoughts originate from in the first place? I mean, I can *kinda* see where you connected some of the dots, but it's still a huge leap compared to the initially perfectly sensible conclusion of her being dead or otherwise incapacitated.
(Oh, and if this could be answered similarly to my last question, then I can at least say that I have loose plans for a thorough notepad-and-magnifying-glass rewatch of the whole series over the imminent summer after a warmup with Spirited Away, so we'll see how that goes. Maybe I'll look back at myself a few months from now and laugh at my relatively foolish ways; wouldn't be the first time, anyway)
i’d joke that it’s about the Vibes TM but what it comes down to really is the way rwby handles foreshadowing. as for the "when and where" part i couldn’t remember so i went looking.
let me take you on a little journey
these messages on 7/27 are my first direct reference to the idea of summer joining salem but i think (based on my phrasing) that i must have had it in mind for a while prior, which given that this was eight whole days after i’d finished watching the show at all. well. if i had to guess i’d say i probably went "okay so yes but also no" after ruby went "that’s what happened to mom" in 8.11
and the reason for that is pretty simple:
there is a lot of build up in v1-8 to summer’s fate being a Big Fucking Deal; this, in combination with the careful phrasing the narrative always uses regarding her disappearance—she "never came back” or she was "taken," it’s never said that she died—means she’s still alive.
salem met summer rose 12-14 years ago. the hound is a novelty to everyone, including salem’s own inner circle, and salem herself describes him as an "experiment." ruby jumps to a conclusion that doesn’t add up with information the audience knows that she doesn’t.
but, it’s unlikely that ruby is entirely wrong: think about tyrian waxing poetic about his "goddess" and ruby with no hesitation saying "cinder." she was both incorrect (his "goddess" is salem) but partially right (cinder is salem’s protégée and tyrian is here at all because cinder asked salem to deal with ruby).
in v4 we get a look at salem’s evil boardroom (there are two seats conspicuously left empty) and then see salem receiving a seer call from someone stationed at beacon, after it’s been firmly established that none of the agents we know about is there. we don’t see who is on the other end of this call, and we only hear salem’s side (note the incongruity with how seer calls are depicted in every other case; the identity of the beacon agent is withheld from the audience deliberately).
in v5 raven is so scornful of summer rose that she decides "you sound just like your mother" deserves an immediate fireball from cinder fall to the face. in v9 she was big goofy grins at summer. SOMETHING REALLY BAD HAPPENED. and i don’t think this dramatic change is explicable by raven simply watching summer fail and die or be captured; else she’d just be calling summer a fool the same way she does qrow and tai. that says betrayal.
so we know that summer met salem. we know that she did not die and cannot have been made into a hound-like creature (because he’s a new experiment). summer being alive probably rules out her being a ‘failed’ experiment, since that would undoubtedly have been fatal. ruby’s assumption that summer was twisted into a grimm-thrall by salem is incorrect but likely not too far off from the truth, and we know SOMETHING happened during that last mission that shattered raven’s trust in summer, and the simplest answer there is that summer is with salem but willingly.
and salem has a Mystery Lieutenant who’s been stationed at beacon since it fell. math! to my mind the only real questions are why and if summer might have been partially grimmed a la cinder, because in v8 the narrative starts telegraphing "summer is with salem in some not-enslaved-or-imprisoned capacity" without any subtlety at all.
now if we add in to the mix certain things v9 did ("an invincible monster who took your mother!" OH BOY) ("she lied, she left with raven! why would she–?" OH BOY!!!), there’s a clear narrative trajectory developing in the direction of summer rose not having been the Perfect Martyred Fairytale Paragon that everyone has put on a pedestal for the last 12-14 years; like anyone else she was a real person with flaws, and narratively the strongest way to drive that point home is to present to us (and to the characters who’ve been mythologizing summer as a flawless hero for more than a decade) a summer rose who decided that siding with salem was the right thing to do and then exploring why she did it.
summer being with salem of her own volition also makes it a lot easier to get to the narrative turning point of negotiating with salem; summer is the bridge, someone who has people she cares about on both sides. it is much harder to form a truce with salem if she tortured two of the main characters’ mother to death and/or enslaved and/or imprisoned her (because then you need to have an arc about saving the mother and that pushes further down the dead-end road of trying to defeat salem, who can’t be meaningfully defeated). but if summer chose to side with salem she can open that door to "maybe we can reason with salem."
so thinking about it just from a writer perspective… if i were the one writing this story and making these creative decisions with regard to the summer rose mystery, the reason i would set things up in this specific way is to develop toward a twist that summer freely chose to join salem with the intention that this precipitates the negotiation. that was true in v1-8 and then v9 ticked off literally every box on my mental checklist of things i would expect v9 to do if this was the direction they were headed—another hint about salem "taking" summer in conjunction with a reminder that salem is "invincible," surfacing ruby’s self-identification with The Idea of summer rose and how very harmful this is, a peek through the looking glass at The Person summer rose who is flawed in ways that shock and distress ruby, and an explicitly-stated "who knows why?" in reference to summer’s flaws and her final mission.
shrug. it’s just the explanation that makes the most sense taking into account all the clues that we have.
as a further point of interest, neither summer nor tai have an obvious ozian allusion (in contrast to qrow and raven who are the scareqrow and the woggle bug respectively)… which by process of elimination with the cast of marvelous land of oz, probably makes them general jinjur and jellia jamb. jinjur conquers the emerald city and occupies it for most of the story; jellia is a serving girl in the emerald city’s palace who remains with jinjur until very near the end when she gets roped into mombi’s schemes. which tracks with the idea that summer is holding beacon on salem’s behalf and tai is…there.
and i am kicking myself for not clocking tai-as-jellia until B4 dropped because it’s so. obvious. in hindsight. lol
(bonus first time reaction to 7.2
because it made me snort)
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Jake Webber x reader you move in with him and Johnnie and you guys are all besties Jake has like a huge crush on you and always is just following you around like a puppy
i love this idea <3
crush.
pairing: jake webber x you
summary: same as the request with a twist! (reader has a crush too!)
cw: fluff, language, oblivious!jake x oblivious!reader
word count: 1.4k + edited
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“I think that’s the last of it!” you shout up the stairs to Jake and Johnnie as you drag your final box of belongings through the front door. You were finally moving in with them after nearly a year of friendship. You’d all hung out so often, had so many sleepovers, and filmed so many videos that the three of you came to the conclusion that it’d be easier for you to just move in.
“Yay!” you hear a voice shout down in response, a voice that could only belong to Jake. He was so excited for you to move in, it was all he’d been talking about since you pitched the idea to them a month ago. Of course, Johnnie was excited too, but Jake was the one who had set up a group countdown, made a shared Google Calendar, and began preemptively decorating your bedroom with things he knew you liked. You’d told him he didn’t have to do all that, but he insisted.
Jake runs down the steps, grinning wide, and Johnnie follows behind, with a softer smile. Jake wraps you in his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around, “My best friend is finally moving in!!”
“Hey, I thought I was your best friend,” Johnnie teases, pouting.
“You’re both my best friends,” Jake replies, pulling Johnnie in too so you’re all in a smooshed group hug.
“I love you guys so much,” you say, and it’s true. Sure, you’d only been friends with them for a year, but you have genuinely never felt more connected to two people. When you met for the first time at a random bar in LA, you three hit it off. It only took one night and you were instantly attached at the hip. Soon you were filming with them, their fans became your fans (which you’d never had before), and life was good. You couldn’t recall two other people you’d ever felt such an unbreakable bond with, such pure unbridled love for, who you would do anything for. And you knew they both felt the same.
Platonic love is a strange thing. You can want all of somebody, all their flaws, all their likes and dislikes, everything, without ever wanting more than that. Knowing them is enough. That’s how it started with you three. Unconstrained platonic love for one another that was incredibly evident to everyone who interacted with you.
One day somewhere along the line, though, things had changed for you. Towards one of them, at least. Johnnie had always been like your brother, and that’s how it would stay. You loved him more than most people on the planet, but purely platonically.
Jake… Jake was different. You had never intended for it to happen. You swore your relationship was strictly platonic. But a few months ago, you realized that you never got nauseous when Johnnie hugged you, whispered a joke in your ear when a stranger did something funny in public, or cuddled with you on the couch. When Jake did those things, you felt more than a little nervous.
These feelings were what prolonged your moving in. Did you really want to risk living with someone you had feelings for? Did you really want to risk losing him as your best friend? In the end, you decided you could separate your romantic and platonic feelings for him, right? Because having him in your life, having him as your best friend, was more important than a silly crush.
Now, you were sandwiched between your two best friends, freshly moved in to live with them for the next however-many months, or years, and it’s not that you weren’t excited. You definitely were. You were just a little scared too.
Jake piped up, “I love you more,” and kissed your forehead. You felt your heart skip a beat. You and Jake had been giving each other little kisses for months. Cheeks, forehead, hands… anywhere but your lips, really. Johnnie wasn’t one for that level of physical affection, so it stays between you and Jake. It’s your thing. Only recently, it’s been harder and harder to act like you’re not on the verge of blushing every time he does it. Jake separates himself from you and Johnnie, “Can I help you unpack, y/n?” he asks.
“Ugh, Jake, you’re so good to me,” you sigh, dramatically placing a hand on your heart. He follows you upstairs, carrying the last of your boxes for you as you enter your new bedroom for the first time. You let out a gasp as you cross the threshold, “Jake… this is so fucking cool.” String lights draped across the back wall, posters from all your favorite artists lined the wall next to your bed, and your desk was fully set up with a new PC and rolling office chair.
“Yeah… I may have gone a little overboard,” he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
“You really didn’t have to do all this! Did you… buy me a new computer?” you stare at him, shocked.
“Maybe?” he giggles, “I wanted to give you a housewarming gift!”
“Jake, that must’ve been so expensive! Let me know how much it was and I can pay you back!”
“No, y/n! I wanted to, I promise,” he steps towards you and pulls you into another tight hug, your bodies swaying together. He looks down at you and smiles, that toothy grin he knows you love. You kiss his nose, smiling up at him in return, “You’re actually the best person I’ve ever met.” you say.
“No, you,” Jake counters, cheeks going red. Was he… flustered? After a few more seconds of prolonged eye contact, he clears his throat and pulls away from you, “Okay! Let’s get this room set the fuck up!!” he chants, attempting to hype you up for the hours of unpacking ahead. You never expected either of your best friends to help you unpack, but of course Jake offered. He was just like that. He would do whatever it took to make your life easier. Johnnie had to leave to shoot a music video, so he couldn’t help anyway, but you weren’t upset about getting a little alone time with Jake.
You moved out into the hallway, where the majority of your boxes sat, and Jake followed close behind you. “Hmm… I think I wanna start with these,” you say, motioning toward a stack of boxes a few feet in front of you. Jake quickly moves to pick them up, well, he tries to pick them up, he only manages to carry two at a time. He carries them into your bedroom and places them on the ground, careful not to break anything fragile inside.
You laugh, “You don’t have to carry everything in for me, you know.”
“But I want to,” he gazes at you, giving you his best pout. “I don’t want my girl to have to lift a finger,” he points at you, grinning.
You feel your cheeks flush, his girl. You avert your eyes and smile, “Okay then, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
He gazes at you, “Whatever I want?”
“Whatever you want.”
He walks up to you and holds your face in both hands, planting a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and then your mouth. It was just a peck, but your heart still leaps out of your chest, and your stomach tied in knots.
You look up at him, surprised, and he just smiles down at you, blushing, and lets out a breathy laugh. “Let’s get to work!”
—
Three hours later
—
You’re finally finished unpacking, Jake admittedly did most of it, not at your request, but at his insistence. He follows you downstairs and into the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, “I’m not sure if we have anything for a full meal, but I can buy us something. What’re you feeling, love?”
Love? He’d never called you love before, you note. “You don’t have to buy me anything, Jake. I can pay for myself,” you smile.
“You’re finally moved in, I wanna spoil you! Trust me, if I didn’t want to spend my money on you, I wouldn’t have offered,” he slings an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head. You turn your head to meet his gaze, noses so close they’re almost touching. He blushes again.
If his feelings for you are mutual… living with your two best friends just got a whole lot more interesting.
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this was so fun to write i love writing fluff!
likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
#sh4wty18#jake webber#jake webber x reader#jake webber x you#one shot#original one shot#fluff#jake webber fic#jake webber fluff#jake x reader#original fiction#fluffy one shot
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I had asked this to someone else, and I'm curious how many people would love to see this happen. So do you think it would have been cool in transformers prime, if they had made a special long episode about team prime and the cons having a mission/fight in las vegas with all the lights and casino's, since their base was in Nevada. I could see Miko getting distracted by all the things there and Raf and Jack having to get her on track. And the autobots and cons having to juggle staying in disguise and having their own individual interests in the city, since Vegas has pretty much anything. 🎰
I love this! I would have been so happy to see an episode like this it would have been really fun!
Here's a few things I think would have happened if they all went to Las Vegas.
-Miko for sure is distracted by EVERYTHING. She wants to eat all the food, she wants to go to the casinos to try and win money so she could buy a huge house for her and bulkhead. There are monster truck shows in Las Vegas and she will absolutely be there. She will also try to convince Bulkhead to join the monster truck show, and he might accidentally end up in one.
-Raf and Jack spend most of the time chasing Miko. But at some point they all get separated. Raf finds himself in a toy car racing contest and he ends up winning a huge amount but then the authorities are like we can't give this money to a kid.
-Jack tries to keep up with the others and spends most of the time trying to be the adult of the situation, and keeps getting in trouble with bodyguards and officers ushering him out of casinos. His mom calls him and she hears the slot machines over the phone. So he spends some time lying to his mom saying he's definitely not in Vegas.
-Knockout is floored with how beautiful everything is. There are so many gorgeous expensive cars driving around and he's really enjoying the view. He also likes to park up and let's people take pictures of him, he just laps up the attention. Knockout will actually completely ignore the fights and just chill around Las Vegas, letting people photo him. Even if Starscream yells at him Knockouts completely ignores him.
-Bumblebee and Smokescreen are a little like Knockout. They are very interested in getting attention from the people. They would also be interested in trying to find some racing.
-Arcee is the only one to actually be fighting the cons. She keeps tracking them, however she keeps getting swept up in small parades of biker gangs that are trying to adopt her.
-Optimus spends most of his time silent. He finds the Hussle and Bussle of Vegas a little too busy for him. He's a little panicked because there are way too many people and he really doesn't want to get seen. And he keeps repeating to the team that they cannot be seen. However he won't admit it, but also won't deny that he did feel happy when some humans wanted to have photos with him. He liked the fact that some humans like big trucks.
-Rachet just refused to go. He's still at their base.
-The cons couldn't care less if it's a busier town. They were all told to try not to be seen by humans. But they would also reveal themselves if it meant getting to the bots.
-I will say though. I think a Vehicon could transform in the middle of the street and the people of Las Vegas would see it as street performance art. They'd cheer and throw money at the con and he'd be so confused.
-Breakdown tried to stay with Knockout but got lost and is now stuck in traffic. He spends the entire episode getting angrier and angrier at the traffic until he just decides to drive through it. He finally catches up to Knockout all scratched up and Knockout makes a statement about not wanting to be seen with him because he doesn't fit the Vegas aesthetic.
-Starscream spent most of the time flying around. At one point he goes to fire bombs at the bots who are in the middle of town and Optimus just transforms an arm, throws a man hole cover at Starscream and knocks him off course. Then prime goes back to normal like nothing happened.
#ask#just a few ideas i think would have been funny#all my options not canon#please add your own thoughts on this too#TFP#transformers#transformers prime
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I got these shoes from someone recently but thought they were way too plain looking, so I set out on a quest to customize them with some sharpies and charms and miscellaneous ribbon I had in my craft drawers. Mostly sky themed (clouds, rainbows, rain, stars, etc.) because that's my favorite aesthetic, but I had to include some cat imagery as well, of course lol.
#also honestly had NO IDEA that real converse have that star logo on the INSIDE not the outer part??? why the hell would you want it on the#inner portion where nobody can see it?? my entire life I always would have sworn it was on the outer facing portion..#I think these would be perfect IF they were just slightly taller (top part higher above ankles instead of just weird hard material digging#right into your ankle whenever you walk) and if they were actual good platforms. they're so short. It's good that 'chunky' shoes are gettin#more popular as they've always been my favorite Look ever since I had these shoes with roller skates that pop out of thebottom (not heelys.#but like. before those. it was two whole entire roller skate wheels like a normal pair of roller skates) and the bottoms were so tall and#clunky and it made my feet look giant (because it had.. entire wheels in the bottom pockets lol). so#I've alwatys been into the aesthetic but . still I find a lot of the 'brands jumping on trend' are too short of platforms#OR they're plafrorms with a raised back/heel/wedge which to me is not aesthetically good and also makes them exceptionally uncomfortable to#wear compared to just plain completely flat chunky platform bottoms. ANYWAY.. if these shoes had a 3 or 4 inch platform I think they'd be#cooler. however for what they are it's still fine! and I like them more now that they actually have some sort of anything to them and#aren't just plain white. The weird thing is that the material it's made out of (maybe some sort of leather or something) absorbs sharpie?#the color changes over time. You draw a mark and then leave it for a few days and it either fades into being barely there or has changed#colors. so I had to go back in and redo parts. ALSO the shoe chains are so funny because I did NOT have the right tools for them#I don't have the stuff to make bracelets or open and close the little rings. they're held onto the shoe with just safety pins and the actua#little rung things that hold the charms on half of them are like broken or the metal is just jam smushed together bent and warped hhbjhjhb#I actually like the back a lot where there's the irridecent star thing hot glued on there. it's cool and shiny. and the clouds#are sparkly on the main parts of the shoe though I'm not sure how well it shows up in pictures#ANYWAY... shoegs..... If I were rich this is one of the things I would definitely custom order from craftsman#why would I spend like thousands of dollars on plain ass shoes that are just expensive because they're a Luxury Brand when I could literall#like pay people to create me custom shoes to my exact specifications?? I could have like 5 inch flat platform boots with fur andclouds#and cat shaped holes in the bottom with LEDs in them with pom pom and charms and etc. etc. etc. Like as gaudy and excessively over#decorated as I want lol.. AND they could have skates in the bottom somehow!! ghjgbhjb#this on top of all the custom wizard costumes and period clothing I would order.. Like i LOVE customizing things. I love everything in my l#life being as particualr as possible and cultivating every experience I have to meticulously meet my own specific criteria as much#as is possible. If I had the money to I would never buy something from a store again. EVERYTHING I owned from furniture to clothing#would be either made by me - or mostly - comissioned from craftsmen. custom tiles for my floors. custom bed. custom table.#even like. custom toilet. custom sinks. etc. etc. ouGGH... but yeah.. anyway... shoes..
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okay peace and love i'm never posting like that again
#now i look like someone who's like. “my 🌟trauma🌟 made me funny”#or a someone who just says “ed” loosely but doesn't mean it and/or brags abt being anorexic#things got way bad again at a speed i didn't know it would have. that's a bit of what i've been up to lately#@cronenfag blog is the worst bc in like april 2023 i made a post like “that's it i swear off recovery i'm better off being worse”#and then in like late 2023 i was posting like “yay ^_^ i'm gonna get better FORREAL. i'm seriously gonna try this time :)”#and now we're here#the entirety of 2023 was a back and forth of that#to be fair even when i was in the “i wanna get better” stage i was directed to a clinic and was like “i don't need to go i'm normal now”#when really i didn't wanna go mostly bc it's like. a coping mechanism i don't want to let go of in case i need it#i don't think i ever truly wanted to rule out the idea of reeeelapsing and i knew that obviously#i've dug myself so deep i have no idea how long this whole mess will go on for. because i don't want to die like i used to#but it's all still been engrained in my mind over the past few years#whatever#m
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