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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

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Fake dating Drabble No. 5

Today with Dave York and 2k (🤡) of being undercover married to him (F) because the neighbors are leaders of a terrorist organization. The leader get a little too handsy at the dinner you had been invited to and Dave does sell the jealous husband very, very well. Steph’s fake dating Drabble week

Warnings: cursing, inappropriate touching, masturbation, implied sexual content

It wasn’t like you had a choice when the CIA decided that you had to go undercover. It wasn’t the first time and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. But three months in, without having anyone to talk to except your partner, or the neighbors who most likely were the most dangerous people you had ever encountered, it was starting to frustrate you that there was no new information you could provide. But tonight the neighbors had invited you and your partner over for dinner.

Oh yes. You also had to pretend to be married to Dave York, who was your partner for this mission. It didn’t help that you were spending all your time with a man that always seemed to be plotting murder whenever you caught him starring looking at you. These last months were hard. You weren’t used to living with someone, let alone pretending to be in love as soon as you left the walls of the CIA proofed house you were living in with him.

Dave York was a mystery not only to you, but to everyone at the CIA. You always felt a little uncomfortable every time he looked at you and you couldn’t place why. He was nothing but polite towards everyone, but there was something dark surrounding him. Like he knew more than everyone around him. Like he knew all the dirty secrets. Your dirty secrets.

But it also had it’s advantages living with someone. It was nice waking up to the smell of coffee, a mug waiting for you on the counter just as you liked it, while Dave was checking his mails on his laptop. Part of your undercover identity was being the devoted housewife while Dave played the role of the husband who worked as an accountant from home.

You knew he had been married before, but somehow you never felt comfortable to ask him any personal questions. He never asked you either. Every other day you found yourself sitting next to him on the sofa after dinner, his arm on the couch behind you, without touching you, while you watched some netflix together. So people who walked by your house could see that you were a perfectly normal married couple.

He always let you decide what to watch.

“What do you want to watch?” you had asked one evening.

“I don’t really care. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Really? And here I thought you were a couch potato,” you had a glass of wine on that evening and you could have sworn you saw him hide a smile before you started a new episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“You ready?” he asked through your closed bedroom door. You were occupying the master bedroom, while he slept in the guest room. You decided on a yellow summer dress for the dinner at your neighbors. You felt a little naked with your exposed shoulders and legs, but it was a hot day and it would make zero sense to be wearing something you could sneak your gun in. You knew Dave would be carrying a gun, he always did. And you had no choice but to trust him. Not that he had given you any indication as to not trust him.

You took one last look in the mirror before you walked towards the door and opened it. Dave looked at you, his eyes taking you in for a second before there was this twitch at his lips again. A small smile and this time you were sure of it and you had no idea how to feel about it.

“Come on, we gonna be late,” he said quietly.

He took your hand as soon as he locked the front door, a bottle of wine in his arm.

“If we’re lucky we are finally going to get some intel tonight. These fuckers are a suspicious bunch,” he said as he leaned closer to whisper. You nodded.

“I would be suspicious too if I was running a terrorist organisation from a suburban neighborhood.”

“True,” he chuckled, “You make sure to stay in sight. We don’t know what kind of people these are and I want you to be safe.”

“Aww are you worried about me, hubby?” you teased.

“No. I’m worried about them. I have no doubt that you could take them out if you want to.”

“Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment, Dave,”

“It was, just… Don’t try to be the hero. We knew this would be a longer mission and if we’re lucky tonight might finally be the start of getting things going.”

“I know,” you squeezed his hand and breathed in deep.

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded, plastering a fake smile on your lips as he knocked on the door.

Dave really could play the perfect husband. He even remembered what you were allergic to, making sure that no trace of parsley could be found on your plate. At one point he excused himself to the bathroom, giving your leg a squeeze. His hand had been placed on your knee as soon as you had sat down at the dinner table and it almost seemed like he needed some kind of connection to ground himself. You spend enough time with him to know that he was on edge ever since he came back from smoking with the man you knew to be the leader of this whole organisation you were here to get more information from.

His hand went up to your shoulder when he got up and to your surprise he leaned down to kiss your temple before he left the room. You were so surprised by this gesture you almost jumped when you felt someone sit down next to you.

“So… How long have you been married?” he asked. You looked at him, Bill, the man who was responsible for thousands of deaths. You smiled, remembering the story the CIA had manufactured for you.

“Second anniversary is coming up.”

“How did the two of you meet?” he asked and you felt his eyes growing cold. You were now being interrogated.

“That’s a silly story,” you laughed, shaking your head in played embarrassment. Bill only looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“Well we went to College together. We never really had much in common. He’s into numbers, I’m more creative. After college we went our separate ways but years after I needed an accountant for my business and his name popped up.”

“What kind of business?” he asked.

“I used to own a flower shop back in DC. I sold it once Dave got the job offer here.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Not really. Where he goes, I go. And I’m actually looking into opening a new one. Just looked at some properties last week.”

“That’s nice. If you need any help just say the word. I have connections in this city,” Bill nodded, getting closer. It took everything in you not to flinch as his hand came down on your thigh. Much higher than it was appropriate. You gulped.

“I mean it, if you need anything, just say the word,” he was so close now you could feel his nose on your cheek. Closing your eyes you thought about all the ways you could break his wrists within the next 15 minutes when you heard Dave call for you as he walked back into the room.

“Everything okay?” he asked. Bill only looked up at him, giving him a smirk, before he squeezed your leg and let go of you.

“Everything’s fine. We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right?” he asked. You nodded with a smile that hopefully didn’t look too pained.

“Great. Well I hate to cut this short, but we got an early morning,” Dave’s hand was on your shoulder and you turned your head to look up at him, your hand coming down on top of his.

“Oh, well. It was nice getting to know you,” Bill said. You got up from your seat and Dave’s arm sneaked around your waist immediately, bringing you closer to him and you let your head fall against his shoulder.

“Likewise,” Dave said, following Bill to the door.

“You’re a beautiful couple. Let’s do this again,” Bill said, his eyes lingering on you. You only nodded, thanking him before you let Dave lead you down the Driveway.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. You only nodded.

“If you would have come into the room 10 seconds later I would have blown our cover. Fuck he’s a creep.”

“He also is involved in way more shit than we originally thought,” he reached into the pocket of his pants, showing you a USB Flash Drive.

“What did you find?” you asked. He shook his head, looking over his shoulder.

“Not here,” he whispered. His arm around you tightened.

“He’s still watching?” you asked. He nodded. “Kiss me,” you whispered. Dave stopped walking and looked at you.

“You just saw someone touching your wife… I think we need to sell this better, I could feel him watching us all night.”

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes before they opened and he pushed you against the tree you just passed.

You couldn’t even take a breath before his lips crashed down on yours, his hand on the back of your hand, so he didn’t hurt you. He towered over you, his body pressed against your and you tried to suppress the moan at the feeling of his lips against yours but failed miserably. He used your surprise to dive his tongue into your mouth and your arms flew up to hold on to him.

“Dave…” you sighed.

“I’m right now playing a very, very fucking jealous husband sweetheart…” he groaned.

“Fuck…” you let your head fall back as his lip wandered down your neck. You felt his thigh between your legs.

“Is he still looking?” he asked, rubbing his thigh over your core. You looked over his shoulder, seeing no one standing outside.

“No…” you gasped, rolling your hips. Fuck you were wet. He kissed you again, before he whispered against your lips.

“Good, then let’s go home.”

You were more than confused. As soon as you were back in the house, Dave let go of you and went to his room with a mumbled “Good night.”

You on the other hand were still trying to get your brain to slow the fuck down. You were undercover. This was all just an act. Right? Dave York was the best agent around and he knew what he was doing. You had to get your libido under control just because he kissed you once. Groaning to yourself you stripped off your clothes to take a shower. Which should only have taken a couple of minutes, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. How his lips felt, how his hands felt, how it would feel if he would push you against the wall and fuck you senseless.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned quietly, touching yourself, growing frustrated when you just couldn’t make yourself cum, knowing he was just down the hallway. Shaking your head you got out of the shower, drying yourself off, not bothering to change into your pajamas. You needed to cum. Getting out your vibrator your sighed, wondering how big Dave was when you opened the door and found the man in question sitting on your bed, looking at you with hungry eyes, asking:

“Need any help with that?”

#my writing #Steph writes drabbles #dave york #Pedro pascal #fake dating #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #Dave York x reader #dave york x f!reader

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5uptic · 3 years

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crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas DumbDog: No? I do too. stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

#crewfu #fanfic spotlight

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accio-victuuri · 3 years

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The GG & Li-Ning & Xianjiang Cotton Situation

I was asked to give my opinion. This is also for other bxgs who may have the same sentiment. You don’t have to agree with me but i hope you respect whatever it is I choose to share here. This is my blog and my space. I maintain this out of my pure enjoyment of the fandom and all the good it has given me. So let me address some of the points.

Li-Ning boasts their use of XinJiang Cotton

My simple answer here is, of course they will. This is not something new. Li-Ning is a celebrated olympic medal winning gymnast. A billionaire. You don’t get to that place in CHN w/out supporting the government’s agenda. In this case, that there is no injustice and persecution going on in Xinjiang. This brand, boasting about China made cotton, in their terms, shows patriotism and support for their country. This brand’s literal goal at first was to provide a local brand for Chinese athletes to wear in the Olympics. This is also not the first time that Li-Ning had been called out along w/ other international brands due to questionable ethical practices.

I find it very hard to believe that the timing of GG’s massive Li-Ning ad campaign, coinciding as it has with these Western brand boycotts, was a coincidence.

Let’s get this out of the way. Whether the boycott happened or not, Li-Ning is guaranteed an insane amount of sales because they hired Xiao Zhan. This is the same man who always sells out products in seconds. Who took KXZ to 200% growth and so on. I can talk about stats all day but this massive campaign for him is a no brainer. GG is expensive and a guaranteed success. Any brand who hires him will be stupid to not launch an all out campaign across all cities. Li-Ning knows what they are doing by hiring him. For years, they have been trying to appeal to Gen Z. Especially now that youth in CHN are more and more into the “guochao” (国潮) - National trend. Integrating traditional chinese culture and fashion w/ domestic brands. This ties in with the whole movement of erasing the connotation that made in china is of inferior quality. GG was a good choice. He appeals to the younger generation (19-25) and the working class ( 26 and up ) who buys goods. I would imagine even GG’s team did their research and knows this trend is going on too. This will not be the last you will see of this type of endorsement from him or Web. The rumors on this collaboration was going around as early as, March 15 I think? I was literally asking another bxg if GG’s ad will be pushed back a day or two because of what was happening. or what will this all implies. He was always gonna come out and endorse this brand boycott or not.

I am not removing the possibility that these local brands have a hand in the boycott. It’s a very valid concern. or that, it was a convenient perfect storm for them. A perfect storm of EU, US & CAN sanctioning CHN. The sudden attack on brands’ statements against Xinjiang cotton from a year ago. The whole agenda of controlling the people’s view on what is happening. All of these are connected. sure. There are many things behind the scenes that we will not know but we can make an educated guess of. Li-Ning is not the only domestic brand that had a positive push because of this.

On 3/25 Li-Ning’s stock closed with a high of 10.74% , plus an added 9% on the 26th when GG was announced as ambassador. The same thing happened with Anta and others.

I find it very hard to stomach seeing Li-Ning ads on my dash, regardless of GG’s presence in them. Without condemning him for taking this endorsement deal, and without judging what he is or is not personally aware

I will just be addressing GG’s alleged part in all this. I say that cause we don’t live in his brain and won’t know what he’s thinking. You can all try and project your values on him but he is a whole person of his own. I have hopefully given some view on why GG accepted to endorse this brand in the previous point. GG has spent most if not all, of his life in China. He has repeatedly said that he was brought up traditionally. Tho his father was very encouraging in him participating in the arts and widening his knowledge. He had Foreign professors at CBTU. He is part of the generation that knows what’s going on outside by using the internet. He’s smart. I would guess that he is aware of the country he is living in vs what it’s like outside of it. But at the end of the day, his loyalty will always be with his country. I hate to break it to you all but he will continue to live and thrive as an Actor even without international support. Tho it is great that he is a source of National Pride with how people outside of China love him.

Now, about his support for Xianjiang Cotton. I wanna start by showing this:

It’s a post from People’s Daily wb which boasts all the c-ent top stars that voiced their support of XJ cotton. The sense is, hey people look at your idols supporting the cause. Look at their Patriotism. What do you think will happen if GG was not on this list? Knowing that he is a top star in CHN. Knowing he was just in hot waters post 22*? Knowing that he is actively being endorsed in CCTV which is a National Channel. Are we still surprised that he posted that support? I was just honestly waiting for him to post if anything. I talked before about how C-ent celebrities are expected ( and actually it’s in their law ) to be more morally upright than the lay people. This is prime example of that.

Another one is this from CCTV Wb. I’m including this for you all to have an understanding of how this whole thing is being played out in CHN. This is the type of online narrative that is going around and I would think GG is seeing. The sentiment is,

“No matter what hardships, ups and downs and blows go through in our country, her people will always come from all directions and stand up to speak justice and do just things.”

It’s also showing all the hot searches that is related in support of XJ cotton and defending CHN’s innocence.

Also this video that was heavily circulated showing mechanized picking of cotton vs the allegations of manual.

This is the kind of narrative that is going around, as expected. I don’t really fault GG or condemn him for doing what is best for him. What is the best for an individual does not always mean it’s the best for all. In talks like this, I always try and put myself in their position. I mean, who the hell are these people trying to attack my country? the country that has provided for me. I wanna say I understand where they are coming from but understanding does not mean agreeing. I see these A LOT. ALOT ON WEIBO. The China vs. Everyone story. It’s the notion of, they are attacking us and we must protect the country. Also keep in mind that news is heavily regulated.

You know what type of news the CCP would love for them to get a hold of? The rising attacks on Asians in the US. Oh boy they would fuckin love that! Making America the big/bad asian-hating boogeyman in the eyes of their people yet again.

Okay, now we’re down to the final part of this. Why do I share the promo pics for Li-Ning. Where do i draw the line.

To me it’s simple. It had GG in it. I was waiting for this to come out, and tbh, would you all even know about this brand’s practices if the boycott didn’t happen? No. This is a bjyx blog where i share things about them. That includes ad, dramas, pictures and videos. I understand if people don’t feel comfortable w/ Li-Ning ads and others, so just don’t like those posts. Did I buy anything from the collection? No. Did I buy multiple copies Web’s single Youth in Times ( like i do with his other singles )? No. That’s where I draw the line in this. I know we’re all gonna be put on a tight spot again once Faith Makes Great comes out. Once I saw that leaked pic, Ooohhh! I just know. Also if BAH adds some propaganda about CHN’s war on drugs. I am just waiting. I am ready. I know what my values are. I will not allow other people to dictate who I am. I know what type of content I’m only gonna be sharing.

I see this very forceful air of asking bxgs to take a stand on this ( always bxg, never the other side. always us of course even if we are the minority) and it really puts me off. I read someone say that they will not say anything because they don’t owe strangers on the internet an explanation. Which is true. I have separate spaces that I share my views on world/local issues. Accounts that show my actual name and around people I know in real life. That’s what I choose to do for myself. I started this blog for myself and i still find it very bizarre that people follow this account. I am not some sort of KOL, let’s get that straight. This is just a blog where I talk about things if i want to and SCREAM about GG and Web too much. I will probably not answer any follow up questions on this cause i feel like I have addressed a good chunk of it.

Just know that whatever I post on here in support of GG and his projects does not equate to my entire political/moral stand regarding this event or any. It’s really good that we have conversations like this cause it’s an important one.

Whew! That was a long post! 😅

#ask response

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked. thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me. SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site. you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland @hobi-gif

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky. Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty. Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat. He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath. He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat. Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs. “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees. “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up. Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror. “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect. “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.

The car falls silent once again.

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

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception. His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants. He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight. They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight. Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler. Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear. “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy. What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch. Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture. Can’t hear shit, he mouths. You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said. “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog. Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang. This entire situation has been a means to an end. Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move. All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns. Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same. All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him. He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles. “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore. They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs. He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered. “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction. “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore. Simple as that.”

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back. He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious. I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits. “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money. I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man. I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out. But I won’t lie, she is my insurance. If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side. Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space. You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly. “It was rude. Uncalled for. I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns. Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical. “You wanted to do that too, right? Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit. Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily. “An official apology from me, to you. And please pass along my consideration to your sister. Please assure her that none of this is personal. But I will make sure my son stays out of prison. And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun. She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment. “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation. I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her. Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

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

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut. She’s out sick today. You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal. That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised. You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

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

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming. This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly. “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat. Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me. I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits. “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to. So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly. Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts. Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one. Two receptionists. One paralegal.

Lee Hyejin.

Kang Donghyuk.

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend. Someone you’d allowed into your bed. The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress. You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command. The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat. “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly. “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink. You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits. “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment. A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat. You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.” Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues. “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement. You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says. You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you. “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped. The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise. Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind. At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me. I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time. So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

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

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway. He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body. You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully. “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly, “-- I never apologized for what I said to you. I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear. You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs. “We can talk about that some other time. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

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

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road. He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly. “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you. Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits. He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again. This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response. You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

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

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s. If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore. No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now. You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him. The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time. Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat. By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock. He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom. You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants. “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation. “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra. You toss it away.

“No one but you.”

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser. Then he turns back, body looming over yours. He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything. Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants. Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one. “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt. You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek. You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock. “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth. You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair. He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him. You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure. Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him. You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you. You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length. He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper. You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock. You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft. He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off. He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths. You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth. Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement. He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet. Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe. You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him. He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention. He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit. You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness. “It doesn’t even come close. Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --” your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy. His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit. You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you. Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste. His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear. “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach. Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body. He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him. The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released. But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own. You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back. “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades. “So tight and wet for me. So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion. His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest. You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his. His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft. He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

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

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags. You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle. You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

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

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts mafia au #hoseok mafia au #bts tsundere #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 28

Note: I will be critical of Jiang Cheng in these posts. If you can’t handle that, please feel free to scroll on.

Sorry this write-up is so late. I had a migraine that lasted for a few days, and I didn't want to do anything.

So, we're finally here. The big showdown between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian--they're finally talking, and Jiang Cheng is letting it all out. He starts off strong, leading with this: "you've pushed me to my limits." So, first of all, it's Wei Wuxian's fault that the other clans are pestering Jiang Cheng, as if this is an intentional act on Wei Wuxian's part to cause Jiang Cheng trouble. Obviously absurd--Wei Wuxian doesn't want to cause the Jiang Clan any more harm than they've already been through. That is the very reason why he took the surviving Wens away to a secluded area that no one else would try and enter.

Next Jiang Cheng pleads with Wei Wuxian to come back to Lotus Pier and turn in all the Wens. Yes, turning them in means they'll all be executed, but at least Wei Wuxian can come back into the fold and, most importantly, Jiang Cheng won't have to deal with him being a black sheep anymore. And what they don't really understand at this point is that if it's not the Wens, it's someone else. Someone always has to take the blame for whatever evil is occurring in the world. If Wei Wuxian were to turn the Wens in, they would undoubtedly be executed, but I don't think for one second that they wouldn't hold Wei Wuxian accountable as well, even if he were the one to turn them in himself. For one thing, they are still convinced he took piece of Yin Iron that Xue Yang had, and they don't trust him when he says (repeatedly) that he did not get it from there. Bottom line, there's always going to be a scapegoat, and we know that--we see it happen again and again in this story.

Last thing about this little scene so far: Defenders of the Wen Clan are going against the mainstream. No one will speak up for them. No one will speak up for Wei Wuxian, in particular. Jiang Cheng is pretty much giving Wei Wuxian an ultimatum: if you don't turn them in, it's over--you're out of the Jiang Clan. No one will take him in at this point, not even the Yunmeng Jiangs. Yes, Jiang Cheng is torn up about this. He wants Wei Wuxian on his side--at his side. He doesn't like the idea that Wei Wuxian's loyalty has switched from himself to these Wen remnants who are as good as dead. But here's the thing: there are still people who will speak up for him. Lan Wangji will. To a certain extent, Jiang Yanli will as well, but no one will really put much stock in what she says. When she and Jiang Cheng visit so that she can show her wedding attire to Wei Wuxian, they keep hidden--they don't want anyone to see them there. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, makes no effort to hide himself. He even calls attention to himself at the tea house when he gets pissed off at all the people gossiping about Wei Wuxian. He's really the only one who is truly on Wei Wuxian's side right now.

Heartbreakingly, Wei Wuxian tells Jiang Cheng to leave. He's the one who supplies the idea that he defected, and proposes that they stage a fight to make it believable. And I can't sit here and fault Jiang Cheng for giving this ultimatum. He's a clan leader--his priority is whatever will better his clan, and right now, Wei Wuxian is a detriment. He tries to convince Wei Wuxian, over and over, to abandon the Wens, but Wei Wuxian can't--he won't. He can't abandon them when they've done so much for him, and he can't abandon them when they've been so wronged. The people he is protecting have done nothing wrong, other than have the wrong surname. Jiang Cheng never really tries to understand that or fight for that. He knows that these people are not dangerous, yet he just goes along with the other clans.

In the end, Jiang Cheng kind of makes it about himself and his inferiority complex with Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian wants to be a hero, wants to be the best, he knows the Jiang discipline better than even Jiang Cheng. It's sad that it always comes back to this, despite how many times Wei Wuxian argues with it. Jiang Cheng just cannot get over not being better than Wei Wuxian, and what I find most frustrating is that that issue isn't Wei Wuxian's. It's not Wei Wuxian's problem at all. It is wholly Jiang Cheng's problem, but he behaves as if Wei Wuxian owes him something--as if he ought to do something about it. But there's nothing for him to do. Jiang Cheng just needs to get over his issues and himself.

Can you imagine how shitty Wei Wuxian must feel right now? The person he was raised like a brother to just told him he wouldn't be able to defend him anymore and essentially forced him to defect. He's leading and trying to protect a group of individuals whom the rest of the dominating clans want dead and, by extension, they probably want him dead as well. But despite this, he's doing his best to make everyone else feel better. He puts on a smile, a chipper attitude, and tries to comfort them all. He gives extra fruit to A-Yuan, then he goes to try and cheer Wen Qing up. This is the kind of person he is. And it takes a lot to break him. Think of what he's gone through! Gah!! He's so amazing, I love him!!!! Lan Wangji is my absolute fave, but it did take me a while to warm up to him. I was immediately enchanted with Wei Wuxian, and the more you know about him, the more you love him, I feel.

That fucking comb! Seriously! When will it end! I don't want to see that thing ever again!!! I'm a little irrational about the comb, but it's just really annoying to me, okay? I mean, I feel bad for the guy. He keeps trying and hoping to get a girlfriend, but it's just not happening. Wen Qing probably should have made it clear a long time ago that she had no intention of being his wife, though, and then maybe we could have ditched this subplot a long time ago as well. But the other thing is, if Jiang Cheng cares about Wen Qing so much, why is he so willing to let her be executed? It just...doesn't really make much sense that he can't even admit what his feelings are to even Wei Wuxian.

I love how Wen Qing hasn't said a word in this scene yet. Wei Wuxian is just talking and talking and talking, sort of having a dialogue with her, anticipating what she's thinking. I don't remember being this amused the first time I watched it, but it's quite funny now. Charming, as well. When I get annoyed at what the showrunners tried to do, having Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian be in a romantic relationship, I'm going to think of this scene, and the other moments where I really appreciate their platonic relationship.

Adorable! So adorable, I almost can't stand it! This part is so cute, and I swear, Jin Zixuan has never looked better. There's something about him being disheveled and maybe not having as much makeup on his face, plus the addition of the dirt and mud, that makes him really attractive and cute haha.

"I know this is not Lotus Pier, but I'm willing to build another Lotus Pier for you." Ugly sobbing ensues.

I just love them!!! <3 <3 <3

Just Lan Wangji quietly seething with rage over here. Seriously, these gossips! The funny thing is, they're all terrified of what Wei Wuxian will do, yet they sit in here and gossip about him, as if they'd ever be brave enough to stand up to him.

Favorite wangxian scene alert! I love this scene. So much. So so much. Everything from Lan Wangji's panicked expression to the way Wei Wuxian stifles his laughter, to the look on Lan Wangji's face when he hears his name being called (and recognizes whose voice it is) to Wei Wuxian's genuine smile when he and Lan Wangji make eye contact. It's genuine happiness that Wei Wuxian feels--not the forced cheerfulness that he puts on around Wen Qing. He's so glad that someone has come to see him that isn't Jiang Cheng or someone else who wants him dead. It's a friend--finally a friend.

Oh, my gosh--look at him! He's delighted! He's so happy!! When is the last time we've seen our boy actually happy? It feels like it's been forever! And my little wangxian heart soars, knowing that it's Lan Wangji that makes him feel this way. But really, it couldn't be anyone else, could it?

Indulge me. Just look at them.

Look. Look! Love! It's love!

I have so many feelings about this part, but I can't even talk about it. I just love these scenes of Lan Wangji's visit to Yiling so much. Beginning to end, it's one of my favorite parts of the series. There's such a range of emotions from joy to sadness to bitterness to love--it has everything. And seeing the beginning of their little family warms my heart: A-Yuan warming up to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian being indignant about it. It's such an emotional time for the both of them, seeing each other for the first time in months, especially after all that has happened between them. If Lan Wangji hadn't come here, maybe they never would have seen each other again. Wei Wuxian certainly can't go to the Cloud Recesses to see him. Ugh, I have a lot of feelings, but that's to be continued, because of a strange episode break (as per usual).

Another kind of shorter post! This episode was just a lot of Jiang Cheng being dramatic about evicting Wei Wuxian, which is entertaining and all, but there’s not a whole lot to say. And then Wen Qing kind of has the exact same conversation with Wei Wuxian, which, again, not a lot to say there either. This episode was just me waiting impatiently for the wangxian part at the end to be quite honest.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #cql #the untamed #wen qing #jin zixuan #jiang yanli #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #ep 28 #cql rewatch

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rogershoe · 4 years

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Lights, Camera, Action

Part One

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a production assistant on the set of Cursed. The night before your first day at work, you opened your laptop to shockingly realise you’d be working with Daniel Sharman (and a plethora of other amazing actors), someone you’d been watching on screen since you were a teenager. You kept your expectations low, the PAs rarely got to interact with the talent…what was your chance?

Word Count: 2.5k

Tag list: @sxperncturalimpala67 @mrsaaronkeener @tinygardensoul @disasterday @5am-cigarette @lancelotapricot @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @slytherlight @18somethingpsyche @ceruleanmusings @glxctt @cavillxhenry @lovelyapplessss @hereagainsstuff @linkpk88 @aliceperdida @weeping-redemption @magicalsaladnacho

(I’m so sorry, tumblr isn’t letting me properly tag some of these accounts ;(

Warnings: Age gap between reader and Daniel, slow burn? (Don’t know if that should be a warning haha)

Notes: I didn’t specify the reader’s age since I wasn’t sure what you guys would be comfortable with ;) Plzz lmk what the maximum age gap is that you all would be okay with or I’ll just decide on one myself haha (also lmk if you’d like to be in the tag list!!). This is my first Daniel x reader fic so plz leave ideas and suggestions! (I myself am not actually sure where exactly this fic is going lmao). Tysm for reading!!

p.s Huey Kerrigan is the actual name of one of the second assistant directors of Cursed :)

Sunday, January 6th 2019

10:16 pm

You opened your laptop nervously, your leg bouncing against your couch. It was your last night as a jobless woman and that both excited and scared you. You opened your email, scanning your mail quickly before your eyes landed on “Call Sheet”. You clicked on the email and saw that there were two documents attached. The second was labelled “Cast List”. Your eyes widened when you realised you would be finding out who you were working with tonight. Not tomorrow. Not at work. Tonight.

You forgot about the call sheet and quickly clicked on the one about the cast. As your eyes scanned the list, you gasped audibly as a name caught your attention.

“Daniel Sharman”

Daniel Sharman? The Daniel Sharman? The one you had been practically in love with when you were 17? (Not anymore of course).

Your heart beat faster as you scanned the rest of the list….”Katherine Langford”…….”Gustaf Skarsgard”..those were the only other two names you recognised so far. Now you couldn’t wait to get to work. You were even more eager but also increasingly anxious to wake up tomorrow. Would you even get to see the actors? If you did, would you be able to meet them? You had so many questions but no one to answer them. Trying to push all of the increasingly complicated thoughts out of your mind, you closed your laptop and got up off the couch to head into your room. You lived alone in your flat, full of piles of DVDs in a corner, two worn out but comfy couches, and your greatest purchase to this day….a large flat screen TV. You wouldn’t call your flat small, it was just…cozy. You looked around at the space admiringly before entering your bedroom and closing the door behind you

Monday, January 7th 2019

4:15 am

You woke up with a jolt, breathing heavily. You looked around for your phone grabbing it and swiping across the screen to turn your alarm off. You closed your eyes and laid down, breathing deeply.

The day was finally here. Your first day on set. You had to admit that by now most of the excitedness had been replaced with anxious thoughts. You attempted to ignore them as you opened your phone again to check your messages etc. Nope, nothing interesting.

At 4:25 you finally decided to muster up all the strength you had to pull yourself out of bed. You had to be at work by 5:30 meaning you should leave around 5:10.

You sat at the edge of your bed, rubbing your eyes. You hoped you wouldn’t fall asleep on set….you wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

You got up and walked into your bathroom. You looked into the mirror and immediately looked away. Waking up at 4:00 had only made your eye bags more prominent. Your hair was disheveled and eyes crusty. You tried not to look at yourself again until after you were dressed. You freshened up, washed your face, brushed your teeth etc before going back in your room to wear your clothes.

You had had an outfit ready since last week. They had told you to wear comfortable clothing and comfortable shoes. The most comfortable thing you had were sweatpants but you knew they didn’t mean those so instead you settled for a pair of your most comfortable jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

You changed and then went to your dresser. After some concealer, mascara, and tinted lip balm..you looked a bit more presentable. You could’ve gone completely barefaced but it was your first day and you wanted to look good.

The nerves could’ve killed you at this point. It was exactly 5:05 when you grabbed the call sheet you had printed this morning, your phone, your keys, and headed out of your apartment. You rode down the elevator and arrived at your car, a second hand red Fiat.

You fumbled with your keys before pressing a button and unlocking your car. You sat in the front seat and started the engine,

5:28 am

You pulled into the parking lot of the studio and parked your car in the “crew” area. You hoped this wasn’t the director’s spot or anyone else’s for that matter. As a production assistant, you were right at the bottom of the film crew ladder and answerable to any and everyone on set. Although that thought scared you, you were completely new so hopefully they would cut you some slack.

A week ago when you had gotten a call from the second assistant director (AD), he had told you to come into the building and find him. From there he would tell you what to do.

You walked around to the back of the building where there were six or seven people walking around with headsets, setting up chairs and tables. There were also several trailers set up in the parking lot, no doubt some for the actors. You nervously went up to one of them,

“Hi, where could I find the second assistant director?” you asked

“You’re new?” he replied ignoring your question.

“Yeah” you said smiling slightly

“PA I’m guessing?” he said and you nodded

“He’s in the studio, ask any of the crew inside, they’ll know” he said and smiled, opening a chair.

“Thanks” you said and quickly walked inside through the back door.

Inside it was exactly like what you had imagined. People bustling around, many sporting walkie talkies and headsets. Some held papers, some were talking to each other. You stood in a hallway lined with grey walls. As you walked through the halls you came upon what you guessed was the main studio. It was huge, you could barely see the roof through all of the lighting fixtures. There were multiple props on set but you could tell that the set hadn’t been completely set up yet. This wasn’t the only studio though of course. Judging by the size of the building, there were probably multiple sets. You were in awe for a few moments before realising you had to find the AD. You went up to someone who was setting up water bottles on a long white table.

“Hey, would you happen to know where the second AD is?” you asked

She looked over her shoulder, her short blonde hair tied into a small bun at the back of her head,

“Yeah he’s right over there”, she pointed towards a man who was holding a clipboard and also wore a headset. He had black hair and glasses and looked to be about in his 40s.

You smiled gratefully at her before turning around and walking towards the man. He was looking at his clipboard intently, chewing on his black pen. Your heart beat faster, you hoped he was the right guy. You walked up to him, keeping your distance..not wanting to disturb his thought process.

“Hi I’m Y/N’ you said quickly, waiting for his response. It didn’t come. After a few seconds he looked up at you and put his pen in his pocket.

“PA right?” he asked unconcerned.

“Yes” you said letting out a breath, at least he remembered you.

“I’m Huey Kerrigan”, he suddenly started past you, towards the hallway. You followed him not knowing what else to do. He pointed at the large white table the girl was setting bottles of water on,

“This is the snacks table, you’ll have to set it up in the morning and also restock it throughout the day”

“Got it” you said quickly, not wanting to seem like you were ignoring him

He walked in front of you passing through the hallway and swerving around the many other members of the crew. He walked through the back door you had just passed through a few minutes ago into the cool fresh air. You took a deep breath and followed him to what looked like a charging station beside the tall concrete walls of the studio.

“These are the batteries, aka hot and cold bricks” he pointed to two crates and a table on which there were multiple charging batteries. The “station” was covered by a large white canopy.

“Hot bricks are charged batteries and you must have one on you the entire time in case a crew member needs it. They’ll give you their dead battery aka a cold brick and you bring it here to charge” you were silent for a few seconds trying to process what he had just told you.

“Got it?” he asked

“Yeah…got it” you stuttered smiling nervously

He continued walking and took you right to where all the trailers were parked.

“This is the basecamp,” he said, waving his hand towards all the trailers.

“All the actors’ trailers, the hair and makeup trailers, they’re all here”

You felt a jolt of excitement before remembering to reply, “Okay, cool”

He nodded and continued walking throughout the several trailers, there had to be at least forty. You also scanned your eyes over the area, hoping to maybe get a glimpse of the actors or their trailers.

As if he read your mind he said, “The talent isn’t here yet. They arrive around 6:20 am, get their hair and makeup done and start shooting around 8:30 am….of course this all depends on the day”

You nodded, making sure he saw you.

For the next 20 minutes he showed you around the basecamp and exactly where the makeup and hair trailers were. He also told you about how you never talked to the talent unless you had something to tell them, they had to be somewhere, or if they talked to you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, you weren’t surprised but had still hoped you’d get a small chance to maybe have a chat with the actors.

When you went back inside you saw that the studio had completely transformed. There was one set which looked to be a room with three or four beds and wooden features. Another set opposite that was of what looked to be a marble room with shelves and a white bed. It all looked so realistic that if you were in the set area you wouldn’t have even realized you were in a studio.

“We’re shooting a scene today from episode three, these sets” he waved towards the area, “are from scenes taking place in an abbey”

He stuck a hand down his pocket, wiggling his fingers about before removing it holding a crumpled paper.

“This is the main cast in these scenes,” he said, handing it to me. I nodded quickly grabbing and unfolding the sheet.

Main cast list for abbey scenes

Katherine Langford

Peter Mullen

Daniel Sharman

Shalom Brune-Franklin

Emily Coates

Sophie Harkness

Caroline Lee Johnson

Gabriel Akuwudike

Your heart leapt inside of you when you realised you’d get to see all these actors today.

“You’re green so you won’t be needing the list today” he continued and you looked up from the paper, “but in a few days, you will”

You guessed green meant someone who was new.

He walked further into the studio, to the large snacks table and handed you four bottles of water. “You first task” he said smiling, “take these to the grips over there”. He pointed to four men on ladders adjusting the lighting above the wooden room set.

“Okay sure” you said grinning, happy you could start working.

“And then go over to the team of PAs and ask what else you can help with”

Before you could reply, he abruptly walked away and out of your sight. You took a deep breath and walked over to the set where the “grips” were. The set was amazing, the sheer detail of the beds and the door and the walls and the small trunks at the end of each bed were unbelievable. You took a few seconds to admire it before trotting over to the three men and one girl. You looked at your watch, it was 6:11 am.

“Yeah, just screw it a bit tighter” one guy said squinting at the light fixture from the ground.

A man on the ladder moved his hand, adjusting the light bulb.

“Hey, I got you guys some water” you said, hopeful they heard you

The girl grabbed the four bottles from you without a word handing one to the man beside her and putting the other two on the ground next to the ladder which the two men were currently on. She wore glasses and had long brown hair held back by a hairband.

“Thanks” she said glancing quickly at you and then getting back to work.

You smiled slightly, remembering that you really were on the very last rung of the ladder of crew members.

You walked away from the set and towards the snacks table, thinking of what to do next. You decided that you should go get a hot brick since that was something Huey said you should have on you at all times. After that you could come back inside and find the rest of the PAs.

You headed outside, having to be careful and not bump into anyone in the hallway. The fresh air was welcome after the several people brushing past you inside. You walked over to the canopy covered area to get a “hot brick”. You knelt down placing one knee on the ground to steady yourself. Before looking through the crate, you decided to tie your hair up since you saw that almost everyone on set had their hair somehow kept away from their face. As you were pulling your hair back, you saw a black car pull into the parking lot, a few spaces away from the crew parking. Your heart beat a bit faster as you tied your hair tie around your hair. Could it be…?

Although you knew getting starstruck was the worst thing that could happen to you as a PA, you couldn’t help but stay there as you tightened your hair, not wanting to remove your eyes from the car. It pulled into a parking space and you saw a man step out. As he locked the car and started walking towards the basecamp you realised it was exactly who you thought it was.

Daniel fucking Sharman.

Now your heart was beating fast, threatening to leap out of your chest. He was wearing a grey shirt, jeans and sunglasses and was walking towards one of the trailers, probably his. He was far from you but still, his eye caught yours as he turned his head towards the battery station. Your cheeks heated up and you looked away quickly, mentally slapping yourself. You had practically been ogling your eyes at him..and he had seen you. You knew he knew that you were looking at him. After a few seconds, you pulled yourself together, looked back in his direction and saw that he was entering his trailer his head facing forward again…the the door closed behind him and you let out a deep breath.

You scolded yourself..you couldn’t get this starstruck whenever you saw him or any of the other actors..they were human after all not some sort of gods. You turned towards the crates and grabbed a charged battery, putting it into your jeans’ back pocket. Although you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t have any effect on you, you couldn’t help but be delighted about your luck that you would be working with him out of all the other actors in the world.

Plz plz plzzz comment how you liked this first part! I need some feedback 😂😭

Part two

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the-river-person · 3 years

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Mistral Sans is now Community Shared

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Can I send Asks for more details if I need or want them?: Yes. My askbox is open. I’ll answer what I can. I’ve put everything I can think of on here, but inevitably there’s always something missed in things like this. So ask away.

#mistral sans #community shared oc #undertale au #aeontale #character bio

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piracytheorist · 3 years

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A Kiss for Good Luck (8/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: This will hurt. I am sorry.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains character death, some depictions of violence, depictions of poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, as well as a toxic relationship. Any intercourse and physical touch in general is fully consensual, but emotionally the relationship may appear upsetting to some. Also there are some elements that may resemble emotional self-harm.

Word count for this chapter: 4k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 8: Killian Jones, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

The kiss is deeper than he expected. Killian pushes the woman back, but gently. He was the one who gave her permission to kiss him, after all.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss. I have a girlfriend."

Her brows are going wild. "Shit. Sorry."

He's so stupid. What would Milah think? "'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That,” she slurs. “Thank you again."

Just as the woman closes the bathroom door behind her, Milah appears above him.

“You okay?” she says.

He looks at her confused, before he realizes it's not that normal to sit on the floor while at a club. “Yeah,” he says. “Just very, very drunk.”

She gives him her hand, he takes it, then she starts pulling at him. “Let's go outside for some air. There's too much smoke in here.”

“I wanna pee!”

She drags him up. “You can pee outside! Let's go!”

It feels better outside. The cool, clean air wakes him up a bit.

Milah throws her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him to lean his forehead on hers. He smells the martini in her breath, landing hot against his lips.

He closes his eyes. He could stay like this forever, and how he wishes this moment lasted that long...

“How sweet,” a sharp voice says from the side.

They turn together to see Gold staring at them, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. There's two big guys flanking him, and Killian pulls Milah aside, stepping in front of her.

“What do you want?” Killian says.

“I did wait,” Gold says. “I held back, let you take my wife away from me.”

“Shut up,” Milah says, moving to Killian's side. “Our marriage was over long before I met Killian.”

Gold looks at her, hand grabbing the cane hard.

“You... you followed us here?” Milah says, suddenly realizing. “What the hell? Where's Jack?”

“You have no right to ask about him,” Gold says and takes a brisk step forward. “You went against my conditions for meeting him. You brought that bastard with you!”

Milah flinches, and Killian's left hand grabs onto hers.

“And you?” Gold looks at him. “Going behind my back to take my son on your side? Trying to buy his love?” His face seems to barely contain his rage as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun.

Killian's hand squeezes Milah's as his other one raises up in defense. “Whoa, Gold, wait-”

Gold shoots.

Though Killian’s ears are ringing from the exploding sound, he hears Milah's trembling sigh. It feels like it's hours later that he turns to look at her, eyes going straight for the growing red spot on her chest.

And then she's falling.

“No,” he whispers and holds her, gently breaking her fall.

Her eyes are moving wildly, then she coughs and a thin trail of blood runs from the corner of her lips.

“No, no. Milah...”

She focuses on him. “I love you,” she whispers. She gasps one last time, then she's limp in his arms.

It's like even more hours pass. He feels her hot blood staining his hands.

Her eyes are closed. She's not breathing. Only her blood moves, dripping out of her body even though her heart has stopped beating.

“No,” he says.

He hears the tapping sound of a cane, and he looks up to see Gold standing above him, gun aimed at him. His henchmen also aim their handguns at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Killian says. “Finish it.”

What else can he say? It's not as if he'd leave him to tell the tale.

“Oh, no. You won't be so lucky,” Gold says, but he doesn't move.

Killian manages to hold himself back only long enough to set Milah down gently, then he lunges at Gold, grabbing the gun.

It all happens in half a second.

Gold shoots, Killian's ears are ringing again, and he sees two fingers fly off in a sudden fountain of blood.

He drops down to his knees. His left hand hangs limp in a way no hand should. The thumb and index finger are missing, and there's a gaping crescent hole, starting under his middle finger and reaching to the middle of his wrist.

The pain hits him suddenly and a scream erupts from his throat.

His vision comes and goes; one moment Gold is standing above him, the next Killian is leaning over Milah, the blood spilling from his hand onto her unmoving body.

There's more people screaming; people shouting; sirens, blue and red lights...

Then white. So much white.

Killian is just three days younger of twenty-eight when he once again thinks how he's cursed.

Milah is dead, there is no doubt about that. His hand was amputated, and he has to spend a whole week in the hospital before the doctors clear him for a transatlantic flight.

In the meantime he learns that Milah's body was sent back to England, per Gold's request.

At first, he finds it impossible; but the cops who'd questioned him about the assault soon inform him that Gold has solid alibi in London at the time of the murder.

Killian almost shuts down in the week he has to spend in there; Gold must have stolen Killian's phone before fleeing the scene of the crime, and Killian has no way of contacting Nemo, and he didn't let him know the specifics of his trip in the first place, like when exactly his return trip would’ve been.

If Nemo had known, he would have worried after not getting any news from Killian the day he was supposed to return. He would have contacted hospitals, would have found out about the assault. Probably would even honor Killian's request to attend Milah's funeral in his place, if Killian had the guts to actually ask him for that.

And to top it all, Nemo's phone at home is out of order. Why didn't he ever bother memorizing his cell phone? Now all Killian can do is lie in his hospital bed and do his damnedest to avoid looking at where his left hand is no more.

The blasted week goes by; Killian spends the rest of his savings into a new return trip, the only one he can afford has two stops in between.

He's dead tired, hungry, with fresh dog crap under his sole, and somehow he's not surprised to see his apartment has flooded.

It's three in the morning and he contemplates walking through the ankle-deep water anyway and collapsing in his bed.

He stands so long in front of the open door of his apartment that eventually the downstairs neighbor comes to complain about water dripping into his place.

One call to the fire department later, Killian picks up his two bags – he didn't have the heart to throw Milah's stuff away – and takes a taxi to Nemo's place.

Nemo obviously got out of bed to let Killian in, and of course, he asks Killian what happened.

It's like he's seventeen again, unable to react to one of the most life-changing news he ever received, only the opposite, in the most grim way that he never dared imagine.

He's hiding his handless arm inside his jacket pocket and silently walks the stairs up to his old bedroom. He doesn't answer Nemo's questions next morning, he doesn't even sit down to get breakfast. He goes straight to the lawyer Milah had during her divorce.

Gold is paying people to give false testimony, and Killian is gonna take him down.

Too consumed in his own hatred for the man, the whole week he spent planning his comeback he didn't think of the problems the lawyer is listing now; Killian was drunk – as evidenced by hospital records – enough for his testimony to be considered debatable; he also has motive to want to get back at Gold, stronger than Gold's motive to kill his unfaithful wife three whole years post their divorce which concluded in his favour; and of course, one has to prove first that Gold's witnesses are lying before questioning Gold's alibi of more than five thousand kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

Killian doesn't return to Nemo's place. His own apartment stinks, damp and moldy, half of his furniture and appliances were ruined, but at least his bed is functioning, and he can't deal with Nemo's sympathy right now.

He needs to take Gold down. He can't have any more distractions.

It takes him a month to remember his therapist. He checks his emails for the first time since the assault, and he feels he loses another part of him at the news of his therapist moving towns to study for a doctorate; she's suggested other therapists at him, followed by two more emails of asking if everything is okay, then nothing.

Killian looks at the names and phones of the suggested therapists as if they're threats to his consciousness. He actually laughs. Dr. Eriksen had him since before he was even an adult and she knew everything about his fucked-up adolescence. Where would he even begin with someone new?

He deletes the email.

For two years, his whole life centers around finding weak spots in Gold's armour. He quits from Shakespeare's boat rental and works at stock in the harbor. It's a tough, time-consuming job, but it keeps him in view of the sea and gets his mind off his pain. Alcohol takes over that job in his time off.

He stops drawing; Milah used to draw with him and it nearly breaks him to pick up a pencil to sketch. The last thing he sketches is the design for the tattoo with her name on it that is soon permanently inked on his arm.

Two years of trying, as much as his exhausted psyche and a mind always leaning towards booze can handle, and the best he manages is to break into Gold's house, hack through his computer and locate some suspicious activity between Gold's bank account and the one of one of his witnesses.

Thirteen years of no spots in his criminal record mean nothing to the law when there are spots in it in the first place, and he's arrested for breaking and entering.

Nemo responds to Killian's call to bail him out, even though Killian has barely spoken to him in two years. However, the disappointment is, for the first time since Killian met him, visible on his face.

“It's your decision,” Nemo tells him after Killian is out. “Your path to choose, and your life to ruin.”

If it were anyone else, Killian would be flipping him off. But Nemo is the one who took Killian in as an assortment of broken pieces and put him back together, loving and patient all throughout. The one who has always been too good to be called a mere father.

“It's not just wanting to get back at that bastard,” Killian says, nearly shouting. At Nemo's small flinch, Killian breathes in and out. Among all his losses, it's the first one that has filled him with such rage. “That monster killed her in cold blood. And he's out there now, not paying for his crime-”

His voice is too unsteady now to accommodate shouting.

“It's not just personal. He killed her-” A soft sob breaks his sentence in half. “-and he's walking free.”

“The world is not fair,” Nemo says in a very soft voice, hand resting on Killian's shoulder. “Come home, son. This isn't what you need right now.”

“No. I need to see him behind bars.”

“You need to grieve.”

Killian scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “It's been two years.”

“Exactly.”

He drops his gaze. If he looks at Nemo's face right now, he may crumble, and his efforts of two years – albeit not very successful – will be rendered pointless. The time he lost, the damage he's done to himself, to his relationships with everyone, Nemo, Shakespeare, Will and Tink, it will all be for nothing.

And worst of all, he'll be yet another one who will do Milah wrong. If he gives up, he'll be doing to her nothing better than what Gold did, and the very thought sickens him.

There's only one thing he changes. His drinking has reached new levels, and he needs, if nothing else, to survive in order to bring Gold down. So for now, AA meetings are something.

At first, he only talks about how he manages to stay clean, how he slips and how he tries to not beat himself up over it. His fifth meeting is on a particularly bad day; the story of watching the love of his life die slips from him, and across the circle he gets looks of pity that he hates.

If only he told everyone about the furious thoughts for revenge on Milah's murderer that have been plaguing his every waking thought for the past two years.

He slumps in his seat and stays silent for the rest of the meeting. He shouldn't have come today, he should have known he would be too emotional to think rationally before speaking.

The meeting ends and he's already made up his mind to look into other AA groups before he even exits the building.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls at him.

He turns. It's Eloise Gardener, one of the attendees.

“On the last meeting you mentioned that mental activities keep your thoughts away,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I'm hosting gardening classes, two evenings a week at the Bare Feet Greenhouse. I thought I could invite you to join, they're already quite cheap and I'll give you a discount.”

“Your name is Gardener, innit?”

She smiles. “And I am a gardener. Shocking, I know. But I've found it's a good distraction, especially knowing you're taking care of a life. You get the satisfaction without committing to... raising a child, let's say.”

Killian decides it's worth a try; unlike the AA meetings, raising a plant actually has visible proof of progress.

He stops coming to the meetings, but Eloise doesn't ask him why. She teaches him and guides him through providing a good environment for his plants.

One night after class, she helps him move the pots with his grown plants to his apartment. He doesn't truly invite her in, and when she initiates a kiss with him, he takes a few seconds of thinking before he realizes he doesn't mind that much.

It's just fuck, and Eloise doesn't seem to be thinking it's anything deeper than he does.

If he thinks it's any deeper, he'll just be haunted again by that miserable thought, that the last person he kissed before Milah died was not Milah herself, but a random stranger whose face he wasn't even sober enough to remember.

Eloise leaves and within minutes, he's left as well to search for any open store that sells booze. Rain is pouring down, cars splash him until he's soaking wet, but he finally gives up when he trips and falls, his leg hurting too much to take him too much further.

Even the couple of hours he stays in the hospital while they put a walking cast on him feel unbearable. Two years have gone by and the memories of hospital misery are still too raw.

Eloise doesn't comment on the cast nor his continued absence from the AA meetings. She invites him to her place and after they have sex he asks if he can stay the night. That way it's much easier to avoid looking for a drink to deal with how disgusted he feels.

Even the other people attending the gardening lessons wouldn't imagine Eloise and Killian are sleeping together – and Killian is attending two different classes side by side. Not that there's anything to show for it. They just fuck, sleep in the same bed, and that's all. She keeps him from running out for a drink in the middle of the night, better than any AA meeting managed, he gives her a person to have control over the way she wants, and they scratch each other's itches.

Nemo keeps trying to stay in touch with him, and Killian nearly blocks his number out of pure shame. Perhaps if Nemo realizes he's been blocked he'll stop bothering.

Killian has practically moved in with Eloise now, or she with him; in any case, they'll sleep in the same bed every night, whether it's the one in Killian's apartment or the one in Eloise's house.

He cannot connect who he was before with who he is with Eloise now. Before Nemo even adopted him officially, Killian had allowed him to pick up his pieces and make him a functional human. With Milah, it was Killian who was the whole, the rock she could lean on.

With Eloise, he can once again be broken, but without any expectation to get fixed back up – and he's too tired for unrealistic expectations. He can stay the mess that he is, sharing his body and his space with her so that he can feel something, even when the feeling isn't the best. Eloise is controlling and demanding, and Killian's feelings for her range from fear to disgust, but he prefers those over pain, grief, rage, and a continuously burning thirst.

It's easier to hate his... “partner” than to hate everything else in his life, including himself.

He's actually shocked to realize two years have passed since his first time with Eloise, and nothing at all has changed. Their feelings didn't change towards one way or another; they just kept fucking, sleeping next to each other, and going by their day without thinking about each other.

He almost hates it when she asks him to ride with her to a concert in Maidstone. Not only because she's making ensuring no-one assaults her sound like a chore, but also because he's still not ready to enjoy music he used to love. Especially not in her presence. Being in her company is not a circumstance that fits happy thoughts.

There's a lot of things he's been denying himself since Milah died. Everything that used to make him happy, even the company of his family, feels sullied now.

He doesn't expect to enjoy the concert. But Eloise buys his ticket and drives the car, so he decides that he can tolerate one night of being a boy toy to discourage sleazebags.

It doesn't even feel that special that his birthday is tomorrow; he lost Liam a few days after his fifteenth birthday, and Milah a few days before his twenty-eighth. Maybe it's just not in the cards for him to celebrate it again.

For three whole hours, he forgets everything. There's just the music, and the lights, and his throat getting sore from singing without a care.

There is, of course, the occasional groping, people stepping on his feet, even getting an elbow to the ribs, but for him it's all par of the course now. Including checking his pockets afterwards and realizing that twenty pounds are missing. And Eloise being... well, Eloise.

“You were supposed to stand by my side,” she starts complaining after the concert is over and people start dispersing.

“I can assure you I was touched against my consent far more than you were.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?”

Ugh, her arrogant, calm face she makes when she tells him off. He hates it.

“If you wanted an actual bodyguard, you should have hired one. I only have one hand,” he bites back at her.

“Really? I get you a birthday gift and you consider this an appropriate response.” There’s no question mark in her tone.

“Oh, piss off. As if you've given a fuck about my birthday all these years.”

Her lips purse together, but her voice keeps that cool tenor that irritates him to no end. “I wanted to make it a good one for you. Just because you don't care about it doesn't mean no-one else does.”

He sighs. He actually had a good time and he doesn't want it ruined by her gaslighting. He's experienced people actually caring for his birthday, and he knows Eloise's words are just words. Next, she'll say that she contacted Scorpions themselves and asked them to have a concert the day before his birthday.

She shakes her head and goes for the portable toilets. At last, he can have some time on his own. He turns his head away and back to the scene, now completely empty.

No One Like You wasn't exactly the song he liked the most tonight, but it's the one he can't stop humming. He's humming!

Maybe he does owe Eloise a bit. Just a bit.

"Catchy tune, huh?" he hears from the side.

He turns, seeing a woman with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he says, smiling back. "What a night."

The woman nods. "Did you have fun?"

The words pour out of him like vomit. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my...” – How should he call her? – “friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh.” Her face softens. “Sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach." A very dedicated hand, maybe. There's only so many hiding spots he has.

"Do you have a ride back home?" the woman says.

He stares at her, and he feels his jaw drop when he realizes. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

She just smiles. "I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He scratches behind his ear. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh.” She seems to think for a moment. “I don't even know where that is."

He holds back a laugh. "Figured so. From your accent."

Her smile widens. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he gives his hand back, careful to keep his left arm inside his jacket pocket. She's still looking at his face when he drops his hand to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she pauses as she checks her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in-” She pauses suddenly. “What?"

She's obviously cut off by the expression on his face. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma seems happy as she looks back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones. Does your birthday seem promising?"

His chest feels twice its normal size when she turns to look at him. Somehow, with their birthdays being so close, it feels as if her having had a great birthday is feeding his own satisfaction for that day, for the first time in four- no, five years.

Some of her slightly messy hair is sticking to her face – she probably went all out dancing tonight – and her eyes seem to droop in drowsiness, but she's absolutely glowing.

Glowing and looking at him.

When she takes a step towards him, it feels like it's gravity that's pulling his own body to her.

"It seems that way, aye," he replies.

Her eyes close when she's a few inches away from him, but he waits for the moment his lips touch hers to close his eyes.

(A/N: I want to remind the readers that this chapter is told from Killian's point of view, distorted as it is from grief, rage and isolation from the people he loves. Emotional progress is almost never visible in the short term, especially regarding addictions. Killian might have thought the AA meetings didn't help him, but it doesn't mean that giving up and depending on a controlling person to keep him clean was the healthy thing to do.

I know it's a work of fiction but some lines are easily confused, so the message I want to pass is that if you or a loved one is trying to let go of an addiction, keeping up the effort when progress isn't directly visible may be hard, but it's worth it and will eventually help.)

#Killian Jones #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #I swear I hadn't planned on posting this on Colin's birthday 😅#it's just how it came up #piracytheorist writes

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

part 25

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

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“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.

“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.”

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Hawkmoth was really glad that his miraculous stopped the bleeding immediately. But at the same time the pain was almost making him see stars. So she married a batbrat…

Mayura immediately let Luka go and rushed to Hawkmoth to help him. She tried to lift him, but she was stopped when a cold blade was pressed to her neck.

“I wouldn’t try it. He will need immediate medical attention once his transformation wears off.” Robin said through the gritted teeth. “Try not to join that list.”

Marinette was still in shock of the events that just occured, but she grabbed her yo-yo and tossed it up. “Miraculous Ladybug!” A swarm of magical energy traveled everywhere around and fixed everything, including Hawkmoth’s hand, but he was still without his weapon while Mayura was at the sword’s pointy end. The heroine walked to the defeated pain. “Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sanscoeur, As the Great Guardian of Miraculous I hereby renounce your right to miraculous you have abused.” With that, she plucked their jewels away. The two Kwami were ejected from them and looked at the girl with clear relief. She then turned away to collect other miraculous when suddenly a knife went through her. Adrien was standing there with fury in his eyes.

“You’ve chosen some random american hero over me?! What does he have that I don’t!? You are a monster!” He spat at the girl. He was about to grab her miraculous when a chakram hit him and pushed him back. He stumbled and fell on the ground. Damian was about to rush him and gutter him open, but Nathalie used the distraction to tackle the hero and looked at the blond boy.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!” She shouted and turned back to the wrestle match against Robin. She was winning until other heroes didn’t come at her aid. Adrien grabbed the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous and run as fast as he could. He jumped into the platform and traveled to the underground compound. Spoiler was about to jump after him, but she turned her attention to where Ladybug laid.

Marinette had a knife going through her chest, about right where her heart was. Damian punched Nathalie hard enough for her to get knocked out cold and run to his wife.

“Angel! Can you hear me?!” He held her close.

“Dami…” She was too weak to actually say his full name. “Did… did…”

“You did it angel!” He cried loudly. “Hawkmoth and Mayura are both no more! Everything is going to be fine.”

“I… thank… you…” She managed to spit out. While she was not bleeding, having a pierced heart would still kill her slowly. He also suspected her lungs were damaged given her irregular breath and troubles with speaking.

“Save your strength. The help is on the way I am sure.” He tried to comfort her. The certainty in his voice almost convinced him that it will be okay.

“The t-time… with you…” She had to make a break in the middle of the sentence, but she grabbed his hand tighter. “was best… in my life…” She pressed his hand to her stomach tighter.

“And we will have more time together angel. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me damn it!” He cried.

Gabriel took advantage of the commotion and tried to sneak away, but the Gorilla stepped in his way. “Nuh Nuh.” He grumbled while shaking his head before he hit his former boss on the head like a whack-a-mole game.

Finally, the transformation surrendered and Tikki was forcefully expelled from the earrings. Blood started to fall from the wound.

“Oh Marinette! I am so sorry! I…” The kwami moaned.

Damian stopped speaking. He just looked at his wife. She was so little, smaller than even him. He contemplated pulling the knife, but it would be pointless.

“Can you… Can you heal her?” Sabine asked the Kwami.

“I don’t know. Oh Marinette!” Small goddess of creation nuzzled into the neck of now passed out girl. The pulse was still there, but it was getting weaker with each passing second.

Damian took off his mask. Screw secrecy! He looked at the girl he came to adore and tightened his grip on his hand. “Don’t leave me habibti. Please don’t do it…” A single tear fell from his eye, mixing with the blood around her heart. Then the next one. And another. He allowed his emotions to surface. He didn’t care who saw what. It was his moment, his wife, his damn business and no one’s else.

Tikki saw the pain and suffering and cursed. Cursed the laws, cursed the balance, cursed her own limitations. She was the most powerful kwami... scratch that, most powerful thing in existence. She created this whole damn world. Marinette was her greatest companion and true friend. She would not watch her Ladybug pass away so young. The Kwami floated above the girl and focused her energy. An orb of white formed around her and she launched it on Marinette. As the energy connected with her, the knife was destroyed and wound closed immediately. There was a flash of green light for just a moment, but it was quenched with another green light that came from where Damian’s tears still remained.

There was also another pulse of energy. This one was much bigger and came from near the ring of Black Cat where Plagg just awoke after he was exhausted. Doing evil was much more tiring for Kwami. And him potentially hurting Tikki like that made the lazy cat pass out for some time. Now he sensed the balance shifting. He acted almost on instinct, but retained enough awareness to change one thing. This pulse hit everyone in the room, but it looked Like Gabriel and Nathalie got the worst of it.

Marinette opened her eyes and graped for air, looking at Damian confused. “W-What… What just happened.”

“You are alive!” He shouted and pulled her in deep hug. She was confused at first, but embraced her husband as well.

“Marinette! You are healed…” Sabine lost her voice. “Thank you Tikki. Thank you so very much. You can have any sweets you want whenever you want!” She shouted before jumping to pull both Damian and Marinette into embrace.

“That is indeed a great news to see Mari-hime well, but what exactly happened.” Kagami asked, voicing what everyone thought.

“I can answer that.” Plagg floated closer to them while carrying his own ring. “When Tikki used her power to heal Marinette, she disturbed the balance. Normally, it would require someone else to surrender his life force to heal her.” It was unlike the Kwami of destruction to speak in such academic tone, but most seemed to ignore this fact for now. “But since she was still alive and I was conscious I instead took some of the life energy from everyone. For next few weeks, maybe months I would advise you to avoid strenuous activities.”

“Since when do you know the word ‘strenuous’ Plagg?” Tikki giggled while looking at the other Kwami.

“I have other interests than eating cheese!” He shouted. “Besides this mogger hid my cheese behind encyclopedia and I read it while eating at night.” He murmured. Tikki would have probably laughed if not the implications behind this. She floated to her companion and pulled him in a hug. There were no words spoken, only the two of them comforting one another after so much things happened in such a short (for a Kwami) time.

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Next week was hard. The defeat of Hawkmoth caused severe backlash. The public swarmed Ladybug wherever she went and questioned her about details. The chaos in the city caused by the news was close to riots. People were overly ecstatic. On the bright side, the school was canceled for the time of celebrations.

Before the heroes managed to turn their attention to Adrien he was long gone. He also wired all the funds from his father’s account somewhere. It was clear that the older Agreste had safety mechanisms in place just in case something like this happened.

Marinette didn’t care. She would later, but for now she was just happy that she could spend some time with Damian. Since the time she almost died, the two were inseparable. Even crowbar would not help here, so back off Jason!

The trip to America came sooner than expected. Marinette’s flight left on Monday, but Damian had to return by Saturday to have everything prepared. She wanted to go with him, but Madame Bustier firmly protested, saying that all students must travel with her because she is class representative and some other utter bullshit (Damian’s words).

Still, the bluenette came to the airport to say goodbye. It was about five in the morning and they were in private longue while waiting for the jet to be ready. Marinette kept forgetting that she was married into the richest family in the world. Then again, she did not care. Damian would mean no less to her if he was broke.

“It’s only two days, but I will miss you” Marinette said to him when the message came that everything was set.

“Me too habibti.” He said while looking into her blueberry eyes.

“I… Thank you. For everything.” She smiled. “If I didn’t meet you, I would probably still be fighting a losing war against Hawkmoth.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off. “I did what I had to. To keep you safe I would do more.” He paused for a moment, taking another look in her beautiful eyes. She also starred back at him, the two whirlpools of emerald were mesmerizing in the morning light. They were really mesmerizing at any time of the day or night. “Marinette… Before I go. There is one more thing I wanted to tell you. The last months I spent with you were amazing.” He forced himself not to close. Damian decided that he would do it today and he would. No matter how embarrassed he was feeling right now. There was only the two of them and he turned all the cameras into loop so his family could not hack them. “For the first time I could really be myself. I am grateful for that.”

Marinette looked at him funny. “Damian? What are you…” She didn’t finish the question because he interrupted her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng Al Ghoul Wayne. I think I love you. No. I know I love you.” He said with an emotionless expression. It took every bit of his willpower not to run away.

She blinked. Then she blinked again. The weight of this words almost crushed her. Suddenly her legs felt weak. She tried to avoid his gaze while her mind was getting overheated. But then the courage she always showed as Ladybug filled her. She straightened up and looked him deep in his eyes again. “Damian Al Ghoul Wayne… I love you too.” She said. there was a relaxed smile on her face, but the most important part were her eyes. Damian saw only one thing in them. Love. He never saw anything like that before, but he knew that this was love in purest form.

He grabbed her in the waist and looked at her with question. For a moment, she hesitated, understanding where this was going, but then she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled himself closer. For a moment their faces were just inch apart. This was her last chance to back away. Yet instead, she closed the distance between their lips.

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THE END

KONIEC

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03

#miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #Miraculous!Sabine #fanfiction #fanfic #tiger miraculous #Superhero!Sabine #maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #arranged marriage au #maridami #damienette #batman #mlb #league of assassins #order of the guardians #mlb x dc

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adamarks · 5 years

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simon snow has fucking dragon powers or some shit and this is my goddamn proof

Whilst you people were having a meltdown over Baz and Simon not hashing it out (Simon’s not in a place of understanding his self worth enough for that yet.), I was having a meltdown about Simon Snow The Literal Fucking Dragon.

Now, this is obviously going to have major spoilers for Wayward Son. I’m going to assume you’ve read it if you’re reading this. I’ve put a lot of thought into this theory and this is a long ass post so I’m putting it under the cut. Now. Let’s go, lesbians!

First and foremost, let’s start with the wings and tail.

Simon’s wings are established at the very beginning of Wayward Son to represent something. We don’t really get to quite know what that something is until they start referring to Simon’s wings the same way they used to refer to his magic.

The most direct reference to Simon’s wings symbolizing his magic is in Simon’s section of the prologue at the very end of the book:

“It’s time for me to stop pretending I’m some sort of superhero. I was that-- I really was-- but I’m not anymore. I don’t belong in the same world as sorcerers and vampires. That’s not my story.

Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready. I could go back to school then, or get a job...”

This section directly confirms that yes, these wings are a metaphor for Simon’s magic. They’re all he has left connect him to the world of magic. They’re the only thing still making him feel even remotely on the same level as Baz and Penelope. (This book really was all about the concept of self-worth and how completely lacking it affects not only us but those we love. Phew, talk about a doozy. No wonder we’re all crying.)

Now that we’ve established that Simon’s wings, at the very least, are his one tether to magic, let’s drive the nail into the coffin of the wings and tail being absolutely, 100% symbolic of his magic.

As I mentioned earlier, the book starts treating the wings exactly the same as it treated his magic. This even starts before Wayward Son. The first mention of Simon’s emotions relating to his wings and tail is in the first book. In the epilogue, in Baz’s section, during the dance scene.

“His tail whips out of my hand. It tends to slash around when he’s upset.”

This really starts to come out in the last fourth of Wayward when he’s “itching for a fight.”

His wings constantly poke, prod, and generally annoy Baz and Penny because he refuses to put them away. Almost.... like... how his magic..... felt suffocating.... and too much... and he couldn’t push it back... or tamp it down. *cough*

Okay, so that was all pretty basic, boring, base-building stuff, yeah? Pretty “whatever we get it.”

Well, here’s where it starts to get fun.

Let’s talk about Simon’s Mirrors.

Lemme just explain what the hell a mirror is, first. In case we all flunked our high school Lit classes.

A mirror character is, in simple terms, a character that acts, looks like, or reminds you of one of the main characters. Through these “mirror characters” some important information about the main character is revealed to us subtextually.

Let’s name our Simon mirrors:

Ebb

Agatha (she’s being developed as her own character but that’s not stopping her from mirroring our good lad.)

Aunt Fiona (to some extent anyway. she doesn’t really factor here.)

There might be some minor ones I’m forgetting (I’m not including foils) but these are our main guys.

I put Ebb on the list first, but let’s start with Agatha, the cranky heroine of our dreams.

Throughout the whole first book, Agatha is shown to be Simon’s mirror. Them both mooning over Baz in almost the exact same way. (Jesus Christ they’re embarrassing to watch.) The waiting on rooftops, the handkerchief. (Don’t get me started on Simon carrying around Baz’s scarf in Wayward. I’m soft and everything hurts. Our poor, stupid, stupid boys.) It’s not exactly subtle.

In Carry On, Agatha reveals just how much Simon also resents his fate. He never really expresses it, but Agatha is reflecting to us how he’s feeling. They both get progressively less resigned to the bullshit “Chosen One” fate as the book goes on. They both make it out alive. Maybe everything will be okay.

But then Rainbow rolls up with a Sex On The Beach and Gucci sunglasses to tell us that “fuck no everything’s not okay.” (She’s right. God, I could go on a rant about how no one ever talks about how you feel when you’ve defeated the villain. When you’ve escaped the dungeon. Hhhhh)

Wayward Son immediately sets Agatha up as even more of a mirror than she was in the first book. We’re shown right away that the two of them are both in a depressed funk. They’re both at “15%” and miserable. These two are echoing each other like NEVER before and I am LIVING for it.

Like, we even get this amazing bit in Chapter Four:

“That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, ‘Oh, that’s who I am. That’s why I’ve been so confused.’”

They! Are! Struggling!

Now, how does this relate to Simon having literal fucking dragon powers? Good question, thank you for asking.

In Chapter Fifty-Six, when Pen and Agatha are stuck in the back of Fuckwad Vampire #3′s car, Agatha says this:

“I honestly thought I could walk away from it all-- like magic was a place. Like magic was a person. Or a habit I could break.

When Simon first came to Watford, he couldn’t make his wand work. He could barely cast a spell. He thought they were going to kick him out, that he wasn’t magic enough.

“You don’t do magic,” Penelope told him. “You are magic.”

I... am magic.

Whether I like it or not, whether or not I claim it. Whether or not I carry my wand.

It’s in me, somehow. Blood, water, bone.”

They!! Are!! Both!! Magic!!

Magic is in them! Magic is with them! They’re made of the stuff! They can’t cut off this part of them, no matter how much they want to. (lmao. talk about good old internalized homophobia. I don’t really have an opinion on what Agatha’s sexuality is, btw. I’m using homophobia as a blanket term because I have no clue what’s up on that front.)

Simon is made of magic. He doesn’t want to remove his wings. Even though he has to hide them. Even though he thinks he’s a Normal now. Like Penny said, “an aeroplane is still an aeroplane even if it’s on the ground.” (I’m not sure that’s verbatim, apologies.)

Simon still has magic. We just can’t see it. He’s made of magic. He is magic. He was literally conceived during a spell. Bitch is as magical as you can get.

But where is the magic???? Where’d it go???? Hello????

I’m getting there. I promise. First, we need to talk about Ebb.

Ebb wasn’t only Simon’s weird Aunt figure; she was his mirror. Ebb was what would’ve happened to Simon if he hadn’t rejected the mage at the end of Carry On. Ebb just gave in. She didn’t want to fight anymore, and she figured Shithead The Great knew more than she did.

God I just fucking hate Mage so much like holy shit. Anyway, anyway.

Ebb was the strongest magician next to Simon. She didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to use her magic for any great purpose. She just wanted to be. Agatha even reiterates this in the epilogue of Carry On.

“Like, they couldn’t just let her be.”

(No, Simon doesn’t miss killing things in Wayward. He misses excitement and having a purpose. He mainly misses having a purpose. Not having one of those fucking sucks.)

What the fuck does Ebb have to do with this? Why can’t I just get to the point?

My point is!

My Point IS!

That goddamn dragon with the sheep was supposed to remind you of Ebb.

So, let’s do the math. If 1=1x1= 1 then...

Ebb = Margaret = Simon

Sure, sure we had Simon screeching that he wasn’t a dragon. But Margaret was immediately like,

“Not yet.” She pets his wing. “Are kitten. Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

Simon smells like a dragon, but also apparently “smells like iron.” Whatever the fuck that means. I mean I guess it means that Baz could still sippy sippy. (Which is gonna happen or I’ll eat my own toe.)

One more thing:

“I wanted wings,” he says. “I wanted to fly.”

“Why tail?”

“I wanted to be free!”

Gee, that sure sounds like what Agatha was saying earlier, huh?

YEAH OKAY HE’S HALF DRAGON!! WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT!!! WHAT THE FUCK AM I ON ABOUT!!!!

Omg thank you for asking. I’m going to blow your mind with my final point.

The Final Point: The Baz Problem.

Wayward Son is, by all accounts, Baz’s book. It develops everyone beautifully and everyone has an arc, but this book is where Baz gets to shine.

We found out in this book that vampires are immortal.

This introduced a whole new issue, an issue that surfaces every time immortality is introduced as a possibility for one character but not the rest.

Someday, Baz will be left alone.

He’ll inevitably outlive everyone he cares about. We all know our poor, beautiful, delicate bastard boy couldn’t take it. How deeply he cares is his most beautiful and wonderful trait, and this could break him.

I wonder, how long does a dragon live?

Penny talks about the improbability of Simon and Baz in Chapter Three.

“Star-cross’d lovers. ‘From forth the fatal loins of these two foes.’ The whole shebang.”

Simon’s magic was always described as smoke and fire. The first creature we learn about Simon fighting was a dragon. (Chapter 1, first page of Carry On)

“You’ve slain a dragon, Simon. Surely you can manage a long walk and a few buses.”

God, I just really hate Bitchface the Mage. Anywho.

Simon. The One Who Came to End Us. Simon. The One To Save Us All. Simon is the dragon and the knight. He’s his own worst enemy. His arc will be completed once he accepts the “dragon” part of himself. It’s poetic as fuck, I must admit.

Simon has to find love and care for himself, and then this baby dragon will be grown. He’ll be “on top” as Margaret had said. (God, could you imagine all the dragons waking up? How fucking epic would THAT be? Fingers crossed.)

The monster that drains living things and the monster that burns all in its wake. These losers are starcrossed, but they complete each other. Dumbasses. I just love them so much why can’t they get their shit together.

Simon and Baz’s storylines are utterly intertwined. They’re perfectly matched. Simon might not know it, but their hearts are already tied together; they beat in sync. They’re two stars orbiting each other. And, if we’re all very lucky, maybe they won’t crash. Maybe this story won’t end in flames.

So, in conclusion, I really really really want Simon to breathe fire. The only other way I could see this twisting is the wings somehow going away and Simon getting a regular-magician amount of magic. That’s kinda lame tho and doesn’t complete his arc correctly. This dumb boy is a dragon now and there’s nothing we can do about it. (EDIT: actually yeah simon’s not gonna lose his wings no way in fuck. check out my meta.) Also? I would sell my soul to see Simon getting really possessive over really weird objects for his hoard.

Thank you for sticking with me this far, dear reader. I’ll leave you with this thought: Baz is Donkey and Simon is the dragon from Shrek.

Check out my other meta on the future of simon and baz’s relationship and how penny and agatha relate

scarf meta as well check it

Gonna be tagging peeps so this can circulate better.

@carrybits @neck-mole @watfordwallflower

#Wayward Son #wayward son spoilers #Carry On #Simon and Baz #Simon Snow #Baz Pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #ebb the goatherd #meta #carry on meta #wayward son meta #snowbaz #this will end in flames #long post #i did put a read more

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - Beyond the Corona Walls Part 2

Part two is here, so let’s get on with the rest of the stupid shall we...

You can find part 1 here - https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/624977559380213760/tangled-salt-marathon-beyond-the-corona-walls

Summary: Rapunzel and the group return to Vardaros to find Eugene, only to learn about his engagement to Stalyan, leaving Rapunzel heartbroken and regretting her decision on rejecting Eugene's marriage proposal. However, after being encouraged by Cassandra, Rapunzel returns to Vardaros and stops the wedding between Eugene and Stalyan. Meanwhile, Adria gives Raps another piece of the scroll and an ominous hint to her future.

So Why is the Baron Still Operating If Both Raps and Eugene Know Who He Is?

Keep in mind this guy still has a house in Corona that they know about, he’s still a crime boss who’s criminal actions still affect their kingdom, and they both have the ear of the man who is in charge of running things and who has had a vested interest in cracking down on crime for the past 19 years. So why hasn’t Frederic gone after this dude? You can’t say it’s because he’s hiding out here, when he has a base of operations and living quarters in the kingdom itself. And if it’s because he has money, then that’s just further proof that Frederic is corrupt.

The Writers Undermine Themselves When They Try to Make Conflicts Lopsided

So the writers are trying to have their cake and eat it too in this episode. They want to make Stalyan just unlikeable enough so that the audience won’t hold Eugene accountable for his past actions, but not so unlikable that she’s irremediable later. Hence the excuse that the blackmail is her dad’s idea and that she still believes that Eugene is really in love with her and is just playing hard to get.

The problem is, by having Stalyan still aware of the situation and complacent in this plan instead of fighting against it, the audience isn’t inclined to see things her way and less inclined to give her a second chance when they try to pull her redemption later.

Moreover, this also undermines Eugene’s character arc as well, because him learning to be more responsible has to include acknowledgement of his past wrongs. Instead all he does is make excuses or look vaguely guilty over shit that’s only implied not stated. There’s no outright admittance of wrong nor apology for the way he treated her.

Staylan can’t be sympathetic later on if don't show things from her perspective in the now and Eugene can’t grow as a character if he doesn’t realize what he’s done wrong specifically.

Context Is Key

Yeah, that’s a lot of screenshots, I know, but you need to hear/read the line in full. Because there’s not enough context within the episode to make this line work.

What does ‘someone like you’ mean? What was his relationship with Stalyan like before the break up? When did the break up happen? Why did he leave her at the altar? Why is she still trying to be with him after such a thing? Why wouldn’t Stalyan believe him when he says he’s really in love with Raps? And why, oh why, are we going with this ‘marriage is a prison’ metaphor when the person saying it wants to get married herself? To the very person she’s saying ‘don't get married’ to, no less!

Now we get hints to answer some of those questions, but none of those hints are in the actual episode itself. Hence the main failing of the episode. That’s because the writers still don’t want to admit fault in their mains. Because, at the end of the day, for all of their talk about how ‘it’s not a kids show’, they can’t or won’t tackle actual mature topics like ‘relationships are hard and failed ones can be the fault of both parties or neither party’.

‘Contrived Misunderstanding’ Is Literally the Dumbest Plot Point Ever

Unless you are the Bard of Avon risen from the unholy grave himself, don’t fucking do this. Even then I still criticize Shakespeare heavily for bullcrap like this. It’s lazy and more over it’s not fun.

We already know what the ending outcome is going to be so there’s no tension to be had here. It’s just a cheap way to have conflict between the mains without having them actually address shit or grow as people. Instead of having believable conflicts where people have competing needs or desires, they just throw Stalyan in here to be a scapegoat; and then throw the Baron in here on top of that to be her scapegoat.

So Let’s Talk About Staylan’s Thought Process Here

Okay, if we’re to make any sense of Staylan’s actions here, we have to answer some of those above questions.

What does ‘someone like you’ mean? What was his relationship with Stalyan like before the break up?

We honestly don’t know what their relationship was like. We never see them before the break up, only afterwards, and that’s not a good indicator of anything really. All we know are five things;

Eugene wasn’t a very good person during his Flynn Rider days

He is hinted to be a former womanizer in both the movie and during certain points in season one (the threesome joke in TRoS comes most to mind)

He left Staylan at the altar instead of being the bigger person and breaking things off with her respectfully

He’s known Staylan since they were both teenagers (he’s had a crush on her since they were 15/16) and they’ve been in some sort of long term relationship for some undetermined amount of time

They use to pull jobs together, with Staylan sometimes goating him on, possibly taking charge most of the time.

That’s it. That’s all we got. You can’t really judge Stalyan based off that information alone. All we get from this is that she’s sometimes bossy and probably a little spoiled, but so is Rapunzel honestly, and neither of those things mean that they’re abusive on their own. If anything, knowing those things actually puts Eugene in more of a bad light, but he’s pulling the woobie card here; so you’re not meant to think about those things in the moment which is manipulative writing.

When did the break up happen? Why did he leave her at the altar?

Now here’s the million dollar question, because honestly the show doesn’t give us a consistent time frame of events and contradicts itself all the time. Some have argued that the break up happened eight years ago when the Baron screwed Eugene and Lance over during that robbery flashback in TRoS. Yet in Flynnpostor the Baron says that he had hired Eugene to steal the crown in the movie indicating that they were still working together all the way up until he met Rapunzel.

So which is it? Cause either answer drastically changes the context of his relationship with Staylan, their subsequent break up, and informs the motivation behind Stalyan’s words and actions.

Why is she still trying to be with him after such a thing? Why wouldn’t Stalyan believe him when he says he’s really in love with Raps?

Here’s what I think went down, and what I think the writers are trying to poorly imply here.

Eugene and Staylan had a tremulous on again/off again relationship for several years; where she’d be bratty and controlling and he’d cheat on her and/or leave, only, for whatever reason, to come crawling back and she’d ultimately ‘forgive’ him and they start at square one. The ‘leave her at the altar’ can’t be a one and done thing otherwise she wouldn’t be conditioned to take him back so readily, nor believe his relationship with Raps isn’t serious.

In fact, if we take ‘stealing the crown for the Baron’ thing at face value then it implies he stood Stalyan up just to be with Rapunzel. Which makes sense as no self respecting woman would wait around for 8 flipping years. One year is already pushing things as is, but if Eugene has a history of con artistry and cheating then, yeah, she could convince herself that Eugene is pulling a scam and still loves her instead.

To Staylan’s mind, she’s just trying to convince Eugene to give up his cushy life of royalty to live with her in a less comfortable but ultimately ‘truer’ way of life. She doesn’t see it as asking him to choose between her and Rapunzel cause she doesn’t see that what he has with Rapunzel as love. She thinks he’s faking it, like always. She thinks that ‘Eugene’ is his latest con and that Flynn Rider is his true identity.

And why, oh why, are we going with this ‘marriage is a prison’ metaphor when the person saying it wants to get married herself? To the very person she’s saying ‘don't get married’ to, no less!

Well the real reason is cause the writers have really messed up ideas about marriage, but the in universe reason is that Staylan sees ‘love’ as ‘unconditional acceptance’. Eugene, or ‘Flynn’, doesn’t have to pretend with her. She knows every awful thing about him, been hurt by him, and she still takes him back, and vise versa. Their on again/off again relationship has convinced her that putting up with mistreatment means that you must really love that person. She doesn’t understand that people can change and grow and that being in a healthy relationship requires both of those things.

That’s the only interpretation of their relationship that actually makes sense of Stalyan’s actions to my mind. Feel free to interpret it another way if you’d like, because we really have no clue. Just don’t try to pass off you’re interpretation as fact. And if you still see Staylan as the only person in the wrong here; I have to ask you to ask yourself why? Is it the manipulative writing, is it cause she’s not conventionally ‘nice’ like Rapunzel, or is just cause you see her as a threat to New Dream? Because holding her actually accountable for her actions is one thing, calling her ‘a child abuser’ (fandom’s words not mine) just cause she’s a bitchy and bitter ex is another thing entirely. (also they’re the same freaking age what the hell tumblr)

This Song Would Hold More Weight If They Gave Us an Actual Real Interpersonal Conflict

I’m just going to split ball a few ideas here, just to show what we potentially missed out on..

Stalyan is blissfuly unaware of the Baron’s plot, meaning Eugene now has to wrestle with admitting the truth of his past actions to her, along with keeping Lance safe, and trying to figure out a way to save his relationship with Rapunzel

There’s is no Baron involvement, Stalyan is his ex, but he comes to realize that they have more in common than he and Raps does. Meaning that the narrative has to actually address his and Rapunzel’s relationship issues; like their lack of communication and their seemingly conflicting life goals

Once again, no Baron involvement and Stalyan is his ex, but she’s just a victim Eugene screwed over when he was still Flynn Rider. She warns Rapunzel of what he use to be like and she has to confront the fact that she rushed into a relationship with someone she barely knows while he has to confront the fact that simply giving up his ways isn’t always enough and other people are still hurt by his actions

Dump the ‘ex’ plot altogether and have Rapunzel meet someone new instead. Have her question if a committed relationship is what she wants, and if Eugene really is the person for her. Address the fact that she has no experiences to in which to judge their relationship by.

What makes these options stronger is that there’s no clean cut bad guy (except for the Baron). There’s no right or wrong answer to the problem; no easy solution. The less sure an outcome the more tension you can add to the conflict, and these conflicts can go any number of ways; from a temporary break up to a reaffirmation of love.

That’s mature. That’s complex. That’s not reaching for the easy low hanging fruit. The creators seem to think thing dark, edgy, and shocking is ’deep’ but it’s actually quite shallow, especially when you constantly present one sided conflicts like today’s episode.

Your Name Literally Means ‘Lettuce’, Rapunzel

Unlike some fans, I don’t mind Rapunzel being jealous and hypocritical. As I said before, I like my heroines to have actual flaws. The problem is that the show goes out of its way to justify her bitchiness instead of calling it for what it is.

I Don’t Usually Bring Shipping Into These Reviews But,

Eugene and Lance have the healthiest relationship in the show. Like there is zero competition, here. Outside of a few ‘not-so-serious’ crack pairings, like Pete/Stan/Willow or Caine/Trevor, I don't really have any other ‘canon’ ships. I’m like 90% of the time shipping crossover pairings and 90% of those are Varian ships.

But this is still a flaw because it’s not intentional. The writers genuinely think that New Dream is a healthy romantic pairing and that Cass and Raps are a genuinely good friendship/sibling relationship, but they aren’t. And before you say anything, Casspunzel, isn’t the intent of the creators; regardless if you or some of the non-writing staff ship them. Like, it’s okay to ship them, but they aren’t intentionally written to be romantic any more than Lance and Eugene.

My point in bringing up all this up is this: A bunch of male writers only knew how to portray a male friendship well; not a female friendship, not a sister relationship, not a mother and child relationship, not a father and child relationship, not a gay romance, not even a het romance. That tells me that the creators on this show have an extremely limited world view. Which you need to expand upon if you have any inspirations as a creative writer.

You’ll Have an Ice Sculpture of Shorty at Your Wedding, Raps.

You don’t get to judge, woman.

I Usually Love the Art Direction on the Show, but, Not Gonna Lie, I’m Disappointed We Didn’t Get an Actual Wedding Dress for Stalyan

This is animated in what? Toonboom? Flash? Would it really have been that time consuming just to make a palette swap of her regular dress here? I mean you made a bunch of new character designs and gave Raps a new outfit just for this episode so clicking a few new swatches on an already existing model doesn’t sound that hard.

But yes, I’m nitpicking here. That’s cause I hate where all this is going, and I’m trying to put off the inevitable.

Deactivating the Rocks Was a Mistake

Like I said, making the rocks no longer a threat means that our heroine no longer has a reason for her quest. You’ve just ended your main conflict and now we’re going to have to sit through a whole season of watching the creators spin their wheels trying to find a new one. While also invalidating both the previous and future conflicts cause all she had to do was touch a rock and that’s it. That’s what this whole story amounts to.

Also you’re telling me that the main hero was just now willing to risk the life of a bunch of innocent bystanders just cause she be jelly?

Lack of Remorse Undermines Stalyan’s Future Appearances

If you want to pawn off the blackmail stuff onto her dad then you need to have her stand up to her dad on screen. Because we get no indication that she learns anything from these events in this episode, we have no reason to root for her redemption later. I mean she’s literally declaring revenge here.

Say it with me; It’s a lack of setup and resolve.

Nothing Is Resolved

Rapunzel tries to hold an honest conversation for once and Eugene just shuts her down. Yet, this is presented as a form of positive growth for him? The whole point of their relationship problems is their lack of communication and Rapunzel not being assertive about what she wants. But sure, let's have them still not communicate and have Eugene actively talk over her in order to drag out this plot point that doesn’t need to be dragged out.

Stop Treating Marriage as a Trap

Okay, first off, she was about to ask you to marry her, you dolt, so stop assuming. Second off, this a really bad lesson and the fact that Rapunzel now feels pressured to lie through her teeth about what she really wants contradicts this whole ‘Rapunzel needs to choose for herself thing’ the story’s got going on.

I want to make it clear that the writers threw in this ‘forced marriage’ plot not teach Eugene responsibility, you know the thing he actually needs to learn, but to teach him that ‘marriage is bad’. Even though respectfully asking the person you're already in a committed relationship with to marry you is not in any way, shape, or form the same as a bitchy ex blackmailing you into doing something you don’t wanna do.

Marriage is Not a Trap; Stop Treating It As Such.

Oh Look, Now It’s Eugene’s Turn To Have His Feeling Ignored

Yes, how dare Eugene have an opinion that different from Raps.

Remind me again which relationship was the toxic one?

‘Destiny’ Is Not a Reason

Like ‘destiny’ in a narrative sense means that there’s either an unavoidable consequence for not fulfilling it, a fate that can’t be avoid no matter how hard you try, or a prophecy to help show the characters what needs to be done. It’s a tool to create tension and foreshadowing. It’s not a goal in of itself. But the series never expands upon this ‘destiny’ stuff. It’s treated like an end all and be all for the characters actions, but that’s not how its supposed to work.

So, What Was the Point?

You’ll hear me ask this question a lot during season two. But for this episode specifically there’s barely anything worthwhile to the ongoing narrative here.

None of the mains learn anything, none of the side characters learn anything, the Baron and Stalyan wind up not adding anything to the overall narrative, and Vardaros and its inhabitants never come back into play after this season. So what was the point?

The only reason why I don’t recommend skipping the episode altogether is because of Adria’s introduction, the DK flashback, and the scroll pecice. But all of that is so divorced from the episode’s A plot that it might as well not have been here.You could have taken nearly all of Adria’s scenes and fitted them into another episode. Meaning, you could have easily cut all of Vardaros, the Baron, and Stalyan out of the show and it wouldn’t have made a difference to the story arc.

Conclusion

I’ll give the opening this much. It lets you know what your in for for the rest of season; lots of filler, a disconnected arc, and no Varian (or other main threat) to be seen. Ugh!

#tangled #anti-tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #stalyan #eugene #rapunzel

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sunfloweradoring · 4 years

Text

the one where they meet

Character wise, obviously you know who one direction are! But for anyone that doesn’t know, Saoirse is based on Saoirse Ronan, George on George Mackay & Alex was on no one in particular!

Hope you enjoy my first piece!

masterlist

word count: 2.7k

2011

“Please! Honestly, I will do absolutely anything if you go with me, please!” Saoirse pleaded, her bright blue eyes intensely boring into my stubborn face. My arms were crossed tightly across my chest, brows slightly raised in disbelief.

“Look Saoirse, you know these kinds of parties are not my thing. How long have you known me? Like what, 4 years?” My words came out laced with a small chuckle. A gentle whine of defeat escaped her lips as she moved closer on the sofa, her hands snatching my left arm out of its folded position.

Saoirse and I had met when we played best friends in the film Atonement back in ’07 and soon became fast friends off screen as well. Only a year later her family had moved from Ireland to London, a mere three quarters of an hour from mine, and that almost cemented our friendship. Almost every day we were in each other’s company, giggling like little girls despite the both of us being 16.

“Okay, what about this,” She began, her hands momentarily squeezing mine as if to emphasise her begging. “We go to this party, you give it an hour and a half, and if you don’t like it, we can leave, and I promise to go and see that stupid kids’ film with you; how does that sound?” My head snapped to my left as I sent her a small glare.

“Not a stupid kids’ film.” I muttered. “Gnomeo and Juliet sounds adorable.” She smiled warmly, knowing my defence was slowly lowering. “Fine,” I sighed. “But only an hour and a half.” I warned.

“Thank you! I love you!” She squealed in excitement. “When me and George are finally an item, I will forever be indebted to you.” She spoke, standing from the sofa and bowing to me in hyperbolic fashion. I let out an unattractive snort to which her response was to whack my head with one of the cushions decorating her parents’ sofa.

“Okay, sorry!” I laughed. “He seems really nice, genuinely. If he has any nice looking friends, I won’t object.” I jested, pushing myself up from the sofa as headlights appeared through the living-room window.

“That’s why I want you to come to the party, eejit! Apparently, there’s this boy called Alex that’s going, that George knows from school and from all accounts he’s not too bad.” She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at me. Before I could respond, Saoirse’s mother popped her head out of the study with a smile of her face.

“I think your folks are here, lovie.” Monica spoke in her gentle accent.

“Ah, thanks.” I nodded just before the doorbell rang.

“Right, I’ll see you on Wednesday, we’ll go to Oxford Street and get something to wear. Yeah?” Saoirse babbled as we both walked to the front door.

“What’s this about?” Monica playfully questioned.

“Oh, we’re going to this party I was invited to by George next Friday night. But we have to go to the shops before to make sure we look fab.” Her daughter explained, pulling the door open to reveal my older brother standing waiting.

“Awee, George.” Monica gently teased. “He seems like a nice boy.” She smiled, waving at my brother. “Hi Tom, you on taxi duty tonight?”

He nodded with a grin on his face. “Unfortunately, that’s me. Should start charging rates the amount these two need ferrying around.” He joked as I stepped out and over the doorstep.

I shook my head at his joke before waving at the Ronan ladies. “Bye! See you Wednesday, thanks for the lovely tea, Monica!”

----------

My cheeks were flushed, my feet ached, and my fingers were gradually losing feeling from clutching mine and Saoirse’s bags as we went into what felt like the millionth shop.

“Promise it’s the last one, pet, honest. Just saw these really nice earrings online and they’ll go so well with that top I got.” She explained, excitement overflowing her words. Ordinarily I would have complained about being somewhat of a pack-mule, but her happiness was starting to rub off on me (although I would never admit it!).

As we walked into the warm shop, sheltering us from the February chill outside, her phone rang out in a shrill tone. Quickly retrieving it from her back pocket, Saoirse brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?... Hiya, George!... Oh yeah, Alex wasn’t it?” Instantly her eyes moved to me, a devilish grin forming on her lips at the mention of this mystery man. “Oh reallllyyyyy?” The way she dragged out the syllables filled me with nothing but dread. “Well that sounds great… I’ll let her know, yeah… Okay, see you then, bye!” In one swift movement the phone was returned to the pocket.

“What was that about?” I questioned, slowly shifting my weight from leg to leg, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under her gaze.

“Well,” She grinned. “A little birdy just told me that Alex has seen a picture of you and rumour has it that he took quite the fancy to you.” She explained, her voice calling out in a sing-song tone.

“Fantastic.” I muttered sarcastically under my breath.

----------

“Right, have a nice time girls. Are you sure that Lily’s mum is okay with picking you all up? I’m trusting George to look after you both until then.” Saoirse’s dad questioned, turning to his daughter who was sat in the front seat of the car.

“Absolutely!” Saoirse replied, unbuckling herself and shooting out of the car before any more questions could be asked. I followed suit, calling out a soft ‘thanks!’ before pushing the car door closed. “This is so exciting!” She squealed, the both of us turning around to look at the house we were about to enter. George, who was 18 now, had invited us to the party of one of his co-stars, also 18 Saoirse had said. This only really meant one thing: alcohol was probably going to be flowing. Whilst I was far from a prude, at 16 I did feel a little unsettled at the idea of being a party with loads of 18 and 19 year olds but I only had to get through an hour and a half.

“Let’s go.” I smiled, our arms linking together as we walked up to the house.

----------

I made my way with Saoirse and George to two sofas and armchairs that were nestled away in the corner of the room. We sat down, almost completely ignored by the many people bopping around us. We’d barely been there 15 minutes when I heard someone shout over the music a loud ‘oh my god, it’s them!’, but before I could turn and investigate, a figure pulled up beside the arm of George’s chair.

“Oh! This is Alex,” George smiled, pointing the neck of his bottle towards the young man next to him. Alex was tall, dark hair, wearing some dark trousers and a checked top, that, in the lowered light of the London flat, looked a mixture of reds and black. I smiled gently, reaching my hand to meet his outstretched one and shaking it.

“Hi.” I spoke quietly, introducing myself. Even though Alex was speaking to me now, I could vaguely see over his shoulder and into the rest of the room that now seemed to be buzzing about something. Before I came across as rude, an unnamed girl came up behind Alex and cut him off, her forehead shiny from sweat, I assume as a result of her dancing.

“That band that nearly won the X-Factor is here.” She announced and before we could ask any further questions, she was off to announce the news to someone else.

“The X-Factor?” Alex questioned, swinging around as the rest of us stood up, intrigued.

“What were they called? One Direction wasn’t it?” George questions, to which Saoirse and I nod in agreement. I wasn’t an avid fan of the X-Factor. Indeed, I couldn’t even tell you the last time I watched more than one episode let alone an entire series. However, I did remember seeing a group of boys around my age on it this year, but I didn’t know how far they’d gone in the competition or anything.

“Let’s see!” Saoirse said, leading myself, Alex and George back into the rest of the flat to see. What must have been at least a hundred people had congregated in the main room of the flat, all laughing and chattering loudly. From what I could see, no one would particularly extraordinary; no one looked like they ‘nearly won the X-Factor’. I vaguely recognised various actors from different shows or films but no one looked like a rock star.

“Excuse me, sorry, ‘cuse me.” An accent I’d come to know and love chimed from beside me, yet I knew it obviously wasn’t Saoirse as the tone was far deeper than her voice. I glanced to my left and saw a young lad, peroxide blonde hair, attempting to weave his way deeper into the flat – probably in an effort to locate the free bar in the kitchen.

“Sorry.” I quickly spoke, stepping to the right to allow him through. He shot me a small smile of gratitude, glancing at the plastic cup clutched in my fingers and moved another step before coming to a halt.

“Ye wouldn’t know where aye could get eh drink, would ye?” He questioned, eyes slightly squinted to look at me. “’Aven’t had anything for ‘ours.” He explained. Instead of verbalising a response I simply nodded in the direction he’d previously been heading and led him towards the kitchen.

“Here you go.” I said, stepping to the side to display the vast number of bottles, cans and jugs of liquid to the boy.

“Ah, that’s brillian’ that. Absolutely mental in there.” He grinned, walking to the counter and grabbing a plastic cup, filling it with a concoction of beverages. “’Am Niall, by the way.” He said after taking a large gulp, turning around and looking at me.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you Niall.” I smiled, finishing the rest of my drink.

“How do you know Jack then?” Niall questioned, leaning his back against the counter as he eyed me. “Look a lil’ young if you don’t mind me saying.”

I almost wanted to laugh at him; he himself didn’t look a day older than me, but I shrugged. “I don’t, he’s a friend of a friend.” I explained. “What about you?”

“He knows Louis from somewhere I think.” He replied, looking at something behind me. I turned to see what caught his attention; two more men around his age entered the kitchen.

“Look at him! Already trying to chat a poor lass up before he’s even been here a second.” One laughed. The other simply chuckled in response as they both helped themselves to a drink each.

“Louis that’s not funny. ‘Am not ‘Arry!” Niall retorted to the boy that had spoken. The second boy nodded in affirmation.

“I’d stay away from him, if I were you. Bit of a ladies’ man our Harry.” He said. I nodded, smiling perhaps a little too much due to the small amount of alcohol in my system. “Liam.” He added, holding out his hand. I took it and shook his hand before introducing myself.

----------

I spoke with three boys for a while, chatting about completely irrelevant things – probably in an attempt to avoid the mayhem outside the kitchen. Soon I came to understand they were three fifths of the band One Direction that everyone had been buzzing about outside. The remaining two members I had yet to meet, but from what I could remember, they were Zayn and the infamous Harry, the ‘ladies’ man’. Each of them seemed really sweet and genuinely, all equally as perplexed at the sudden rise to fame they’d experienced in only a matter of weeks.

“Lads!” Louis shouted from his seat atop the counter, beckoning to people outside the vicinity of the kitchen. Two more figures entered; the first was a slight boy, looking almost like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was jet black and he eyed me a little nervously before he shot me a timid smile. The second was a brunette, his wispy hair curling in what looked like every direction. His eyes seemed to light up as he smiled at the three boys I’d been conversing with.

“Hi!” He spoke cheerily.

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Harry and Zayn.” Liam said, gesturing to me as I leaned against the fridge. Both boys acknowledged me with genuine smiles, but Harry seemed to be the more confident one as he approached me and held out his hand. When I took it, I was surprised that rather than shaking it as his friends had, he bowed his head and placed an almost non-existent kiss to the back of my hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.” Harry grinned, lifting his eyes to look at me. There was something about his gaze that struck me. Whether it was the intensity at which he seemed to be staring into my soul, or the brightness of what looked to be green eyes, I didn’t know, but I felt a gentle flush rise to my cheeks.

“And you, Harry.” I giggled, unable to bring my eyes away from his.

----------

“So tell me about yourself, then, Y/N.” Harry spoke, now it just being the two of us sat on the sofas and chairs I’d been occupying with my friends earlier in the evening.

I shrugged gently. “Well, I’m an actor.” I began. “Started off with Saoirse in Atonement. I live with my aunt, my uncle and my two cousins. But they’re like my parents and my brothers so that’s what I call them.” I added, probably oversharing, but my extremely low alcohol tolerance was only screwing me over. Harry nodded, his eyes never leaving my face; it was as if he was only concentrating on me - no one else was in the room.

“That’s cool.” He smiled. “Do you have any films or stuff coming out soon?” He asked, sipping from his cup.

“Uh, yeah, actually.” I shyly responded. “It’s coming out in the summer. It’s called Crazy, Stupid, Love and Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling are in it. I’m just a minor character but it was so amazing to work with such talented people.” I gushed. Again, Harry smiled, his grin almost looking like it was going to split his face in half.

“That’s cute.” He breathed, looking at his cup as he gently swirled the content. “Hey um-” Before he could continue, Saoirse plopped down on the arm of my chair, her friend Lily (who I’d barely seen all night) standing behind her, eyes fixed on the boy sitting opposite me.

“Lily’s mum’s here.” Saoirse interrupted, almost obvious to the fact she’d cut in on an extremely enjoyable conversation. I glanced at Harry, who seemed almost upset. But perhaps that was just the trick of the light and not his smile actually faltering because he quickly stood and the smile was back, pride of place.

“I’ll be there in a sec.” I nodded towards the door. “I’ll just say goodbye.” The girls looked at me with glints in their eyes before slowly making their way to the door. Clearly there was no such thing as privacy though, because I could still feel their eyes on me as I turned back to Harry. “What were you gonna say?” I asked.

Again, I don’t know whether it was a trick of the light or not, but I swear I could see a small hum of colour take over his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I was gonna ask if I could take your number. I really enjoyed talking to you for,” He glanced down at the time displayed on the screen of his phone. “like 3 hours.” He laughed.

Honestly, everything he’d said after ‘could I take your number’ was not registered in my brain whatsoever. A girlish giggle left my lips as (not at all subtly) my cheeks flushed scarlet. “Me too, Harry. Yeah, here’s my number.” I reached out my hand for his phone which he obliged. The stare of his gaze bore into me as I typed my number into the device before handing it back to him.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” His breath fanned over my cheek as he leaned in, placing a small kiss on my cheek before embracing me.

I could have died on the spot.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #imagine #one direction #one direction imagines #harry #ficition #fan fiction #fanfic #harry styles drabble

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omoi-no-hoka · 4 years

Note

Hey! I saw your blog today and I love it very much!! I see you're an open person so, I also have a question: HOW does one survive studying japanese at uni?? I'm in my first year and only my second (online haha) semester and we started out with Minna no nihongo 1 but we're supposed to finish Minna 2 by the end of this semester, same with Basic Kanji book 1 in the first sem and now Basic Kanji Book 2, all while also learning mostly of Japan's history and others in this semester. Exams will kill me

Hello! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog! I am open to a fault lol. Let me recount my meandering journey through uni, illustrating my feelings through gifs of Noel Fielding because he is my celebrity crush.

Uni is such a difficult time for so many people, trying to figure out who you are now and who you want to be later. It wasn’t until my senior year that I realized what I wanted to do. I started writing out my university experience and it got super long, so allow me to just summarize my “Lessons Learned” here and you can read the rest if you want to know all the dirty deets lol. I double-majored in Japanese and English, so I think that my experience can perhaps be useful to people who are majoring in things other than Japanese as well.

Hard-Learned Lessons from Uni

Do not choose a course of study because it is “practical.” Choose it because it is something you love. Seriously. Nothing is more important than this point. Do not choose a major because “I’ll make a lot of money” or “My parents are telling me this is good for me.”

If you are learning multiple languages at once, you must give your brain time to organize what you learned from one language lesson before moving on to the next. You can do this by waiting a couple hours between lessons, getting up and walking around, studying one language in different space from the other, etc. Otherwise, it all becomes a terrible mess in your head.

It’s okay not to know what you want your career to be. It’s okay not to have a specific plan. Life works out one way or the other.

I know how expensive uni can be. (It’s been six years since I graduated and I’m still making hefty loan payments.) But don’t feel like you have to take a full courseload every single semester and graduated asap, particularly if the classes are hard and/or you are working. I took the maximum credit hours allowed every semester on top of working RIDICULOUS hours and it nearly killed me at one point. I’m not kidding.

It is not unusual to have an identity crisis and/or mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. Know when you are nearing breaking point. Seek out the help of professionals. Most universities have psychiatrists and therapists that will see you very cheaply.

Surround yourself with good people and look out for each other.

Do not rely on substances to ease your suffering because sometimes the remedy becomes the malady. Not saying you should avoid all parties or anything square like that, but just don’t be one of those people that parties every night and gets in over their head.

Let me preface this by stating that I’m an American, and our universities are stupid because they force us to take a ton of “general education” courses that are irrelevant to our majors, and many students spend their first couple years taking only a couple courses related to their majors and minors, and try to focus on getting those stupid gen eds out of the way.

Year 1: Oh Shit, This Is Harder Than I Thought It Would Be

I come from a town of less than 2600 people. Our high school prepared its students for the following career paths:

joining the military (boys only)

becoming a farmer (boys only)

welding, carpentry, or other practical jobs (boys only)

becoming a housewife (girls only)

So basically I coasted through high school never having to study anything because it was one great big joke, only I thought I was like super duper smart because I was in the top five of my graduating class of 48. LOLLLLLLLLL

I entered university as a German major, Japanese minor. (Japanese was not offered as a major at my uni). I had never studied German previously, but I studied Spanish and French in high school and I just had this feeling that German and Japanese were the languages for me.

The first semester, I had Japanese 101 and German 101 back to back, in the EXACT SAME CLASSROOM. I can’t stress enough how much of a mindfuck it was to go from thinking about Japanese for 50 minutes, having a 10 minute break, and then trying to switch your brain to German. IN THE SAME ROOM. It actually gave me headaches to try and make that mental jump. Managed to pull through the year with A’s in both, but German was much more of a challenge to me than Japanese. Which was really unexpected.

I also flunked several gen eds because I didn’t give a shit about them and skipped them and got placed on academic probation and was nearly kicked out of uni because of my poor grades

Basically, I was such a weeb that I had watched enough anime with subtitles and sung along to enough anime songs that I had absorbed about 90% of the first year’s worth of Japanese vocab and grammar through osmosis. I really did have the power of God and anime on my side.

Year 2: The Year of the Mid-Midlife Crisis and Mental Breakdown

There really is no gif that will encapsulate the level of turmoil I went through that year. I looked really hard for one, trust me.

It became apparent very quickly that I could not keep up with German. I ended up dropping it early in the first semester, which meant I had to choose a new major. Thinking of what would be practical to pair with a Japanese minor, I went for International Business for a semester, took Accounting, and realized that I HATE The Man, corporate bullshit, and also numbers as a concept.

All I knew at this point was that I liked Japanese but couldn’t make it a major. I also knew I didn’t want to transfer universities. So I kept taking gen eds, just barely passing them because to this day I cannot bring myself to put effort into something I do not care about, and also taking more classes related to my Japanese minor. It was the Japanese classes that saved my GPA and kept me from getting kicked out of uni.

At the same time, I took a creative writing course because that’s been a hobby of mine since elementary school, and I kinda thought about an English major, but then was like, “Eww I don’t wanna be forced to read books I don’t give a shit about. And also, what will I do with that degree?”

Also, at the same time, I was working full time, and often getting stuck working from 2 pm to 7 am (Yes, 15-hour shifts, because the overnight dude would call in sick last minute and I’d be begged to cover his shift), and then dragging myself to classes and drooling on the desks because I’d fall asleep.

Also also, I started to have possible hallucinations? To this day I don’t know what was going on, but either I was legitimately going crazy, or there was a demon following me around and being quite rude to me, making light fixtures fall and shatter inches from my head, throwing papers around my room, opening and closing doors, turning lights off and on, coming to me in dreams and doing some really, really traumatic things to me in them, and just standing in corners staring at me at all hours of the night. Had me so scared that towards the end of the school year I was waiting to sleep until sunrise, when it would go away. And no, I was not using any mind-altering substances of any sort. Not even going out and getting drunk.

So, yeah. Year Two was a hard one that I can’t believe I pushed through. Probably the darkest year of my life, I’d say. What got me through it? An unhealthy amount of energy drinks, friends, and my love of Japanese. Also Aerosmith.

Do I still see that demon? No. He vanished when the school year ended and I moved out of the dorms. Do I believe in the supernatural? Yes, to an extent. Do I think that what I was seeing was actually a demon? I honestly don’t know. I have had actual supernatural experiences verified by multiple witnesses, and a few years before Year 2, several friends and myself had seen an entity similar to what was following me around. But this one in Year 2 only did things when I was alone. So it could have all been in my head, and I will never know.

Since then, I have been diagnosed with general anxiety and also a form of insomnia that keeps me from sleeping through the night, and I know that my anxiety manifests itself in psychosomatic ways. In other words, my mind will take my anxiety and turn it into a physical symptom that feels real in every way, but is actually not occurring. So far it’s manifested as: sensitivity to sunlight, the symptoms of a stroke or heart attack, half of my face going numb, and headaches in my left eye. Once I realize that the symptom is just my anxiety, I can force myself to ignore and overcome it. But then my anxiety finds a new form to manifest, and the cycle repeats a few months later. It could be that my stress caused me to see this demon for a while.

Should I have consulted a psychiatrist and gotten help? YEP. If you find yourself struggling like that, seek help please. 💕

Year 3: Adrift But Afloat

I moved out of the dorms and into an apartment with my best friend, a Japanese girl I met in the dorms freshman year. I will call her Setsuko. Setsuko is basically the reason I graduated uni. She memorized my class schedules and took copies of exam dates, woke me up, forced me to go classes instead of skipping, forced me to go to the library and study with her, and cooked me dinner most days since she didn’t have to work like I did. I can’t express enough how much she did to improve my life outside of school and work, and how much that improved my mental health. She also acclimated me to lots of subtle things about Japanese culture just by living with her, and this helped me later when I moved to Japan. Thank you, Setsuko. 一生の恩人。

I was still doing those bullshit 15-hour overnight shifts way more than I should have, and also had the maximum courseload.

The Japanese classes got a lot more difficult in Year 3. But I loved them. They were the only classes I never skipped. I took more classes towards the minor like Buddhist Philosophy and Japanese History, which I really enjoyed. While polishing off more gen eds, I thought over what to do with my major.

My family and friends all told me that I should become an English teacher. I had always been good at words and at explaining things. But I didn’t really like the idea of being a high school teacher. I became an English major, though, because I knew that I didn’t hate English. Took grammar classes and HOLY SHIT did I hit my stride.

I realized that I didn’t like English lit. I liked linguistics. So I focused heavily on all grammar and linguistics courses, taking the bare minimum of literature courses required for the major. My GPA improved substantially.

Yet I still was consumed with this nagging fear. It was Year 3 and I still had no fucking idea what I wanted to do when I graduated.

Year 4: Clarity At The 11th Hour

Urged on by my “Don’t you dare get one of those stupid arts degrees that won’t get you a paycheck” parents, I decided that the most “practical” degree would not be “English,” but “English Education.” I began taking the English Ed classes with linguistics, grammar, and second language acquisition classes. The goal was to become a qualified English high school teacher who could also do ESL (since I had Spanish and Japanese under my belt more or less).

At the same time, I entered into Independent Study for Japanese with two other students. We were tasked with reading Izu no Odoriko, a classic short story. Independent study was its own beast. It required a lot more concentration and work on my part, obviously. But because Japanese was my first and foremost passion, I centered my efforts on those courses, and then on the others.

The process of getting certified to be an English teacher was lengthy and expensive in my state. This meant my graduation would be further prolonged, and I was worried about money, because I was already about $50,000 in debt at the time, despite working those fucking overnight shifts all the time that were eating me alive.

Then, during the summer vacation when my 4th year ended, I got a scholarship and went to Japan to study abroad. Education majors had the option to study abroad in several countries, and as luck would have it, one of them was Japan, and it was Setsuko’s HOMETOWN! The study abroad program itself was the first month of summer vacation, and Setsuko said, “Okay, just come stay at my house for the rest of summer vacation!”

Never have I said “yes” quicker in my entire life.

On the train headed from Sapporo to the town where I would be actually staying during my studies, I looked at the lush rice paddies and mountains in the distance and my entire heart just hummed with this “This is where you’re meant to be.” I knew then and there that I would move to Japan upon graduation.

What would I do there? Well, teach English, obviously.

My three months in Japan effectively aligned my entire life. My path had materialized before me. It was a roughly hacked, hard-to-see path through thick underbrush, but I could see it nonetheless.

Year 5: Let’s Hurry It Up, I’m Ready To Live

Come Year 5, all of my Japanese classmates that had been with me since freshman year were gone and I was alone. My professor taught me Classical Japanese through independent study, and it was the must grueling course I took my entire five years there. But I found it invaluable and am eternally grateful to him for teaching me, because you see Classical Japanese a lot more than you’d think you would in everyday life. Particularly in formal settings.

I still wanted to get certified to teach English in American high schools, because while I knew I wanted to go to Japan for now, I didn’t know if I wanted to spend my entire life there and I wanted a solid job opportunity when I came back to the states at some point.

However, the more education courses I took, the more I saw that the American education system was just as full of red-tape and The Man’s bullshit as corporate America, something else I rebuke with every fiber of my being. I also realized I’d need to take a 6th year of university, and that just wasn’t financially feasible for me. So I switched to a plain old English major with a heavy focus on linguistics and second language acquisition, and continued classical Japanese.

I took the remaining 3 gen eds online in the summer, graduated, popped up to Chicago to do a month-long intensive course to get the CELTA (Certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages issued by Cambridge.) It’s the most widely accepted and revered certification for teaching English as a foreign language.

So in the span of five years, I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in English with a focus in linguistics and SLA, and what is technically a major in Japanese Studies. 40 credit hours were required for a major, and I completed 42 credit hours tied to my minor, so while it isn’t listed on my diploma as a major, I did the coursework. I also got a CELTA Pass B, which only 20% of applicants achieve and never expires. The grand total for all of this was roughly $100,000 USD in loans.

Post-Graduation

The week I came back to my hometown from Chicago with my CELTA in hand, I packed my suitcases, threw a going-away party, and then flew to Sapporo, where I began my first job after uni, teaching English to children aged 0-18 at a private English conversation school. I did that for three years before changing careers and becoming a Japanese-English translator/interpreter for a global company.

So how useful have my choices during university proven to be?

I’m sure I don’t have to explain that studying Japanese helps me tons with translating Japanese to English or living in Japan lol

Studying English grammar, linguistics, sociolinguistics, and second language acquisition has allowed me to recognize minute nuances that can make the difference between a successful and unsuccessful business negotiation when interpretation is necessary.

My background in education also means that I know how to present information clearly, concisely, and in a way that engages the audience. I am known as “The PowerPoint Pro” at work lol.

I also have a keen eye for performance evaluation, behavior analysis, and improvement action plans.

I offered English conversation lessons to coworkers for over a year, and now that is being done in other branches across the company! (Well, they were before COVID haha.)

I DO NOT RECOMMEND WORKING THE HOURS I WORKED WHILE IN SCHOOL. My grades suffered and I wish I had worked less and focused more on classes. However, by working 15-hour shifts and doing full days of classes, I developed a very good tolerance for overtime, which comes in handy in the Japanese workplace. Just last month I had three 15 hour days in the same week. Sweet, sweet overtime pay.

All of these facets have culminated in me earning a pretty nice promotion to 正社員 seishain back in February, which means I get nice benefits and basically my job is guaranteed until I die or the company goes under.

Should I decide to return to America someday, I will probably not go into the education field. Too much red tape. I will likely continue translation/interpretation for companies, because it isn’t too difficult and pays well. Though ideally I’d love to just make a living sharing cool information about Japanese and stuff, and maybe writing those stories that are bouncing around in my head when I should be working haha.

Do I think the debt is worth it?

Well, I don’t think I had any other option than to take out those loans. I didn’t have the means to learn the things I wanted to learn unless I went to university.

Unless Japanese work visa requirements have changed, you are required to have a bachelor’s degree in order to obtain my sub-type of work-visa, so I needed a degree of some kind no matter what.

Frankly, if I hadn’t gone to that university and met my best friend Setsuko, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now, living the life I am now. So just having met her is worth any price to me.

Paying off all the loans is daunting, especially when yen is weak to the dollar. There were months I had to ask my parents for help, especially early on. But now I’ve got multiple loans paid off, my salary has increased, and the “omg i have money and no supervision so I can buy whatever I want” idiocy has mostly gone away. But I did get a super sweet pair of blindingly silver Converses a couple days ago that I definitely didn’t need

Do I have any regrets regarding my time at university?

I still regret dropping Old English for a stupid English Ed class. Seriously, how cool would that have been? But I still have the textbook, workbook, and I contacted the professor last week and she was kind enough to send me a syllabus. God bless her. So now I’m working on that bit by bit, which is fun.

I wish I hadn’t been such a cocky, naive idiot my first year. Thinking I could just “show up for tests” was the stupidest thing. It messed up my GPA, and my parents forbade me from retaking classes so I couldn’t go back and fix my mistakes. I think I graduated with a 3.4 overall GPA out of 4, but my English major GPA was 3.9 and my Japanese GPA was 4.0. So it’s pretty frustrating to have those gen eds and my dumbfuckery mar my transcript like that.

I really didn’t party at all. Most all of my friends were straight-laced Japanese exchange students, and I was also working ridiculous hours so I just didn’t really have the time. A part of me feels like I missed out on that part of the college experience.

Recently I’ve been putting more effort into improving my creative writing by reading a lot of books on the subject. Not a small part of me wishes that I had gone with a Creative Writing major instead of English major, because I still would have studied all the grammar and linguistics. Then again, I do believe that creative writing can be self-taught.

I wish I hadn’t worked as much as I did. There were a lot of times I couldn’t complete assignments or I missed lectures because I was just so drained. It wasn’t even good money.

Well...I did not intend for this post to become as long as it has. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment with nothing but two goldfish for company for over a month now and I think I’m a bit stir-crazy. Thank you to anyone and everyone who bothered to read all of this and become my therapist for a bit haha. Love you all. Stay safe and well. 💖

#study japanese #learn japanese #university #college #study tips #mental health #love you all #asks are open #stay well #noodle-of-sunshine #noel fielding #studyblr #college study tips #university struggles #college struggles #study english #study english education #study linguistics

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prettyboy-parker · 5 years

Text

starker: the omega in the window

warnings: nff at the end, little bit of stucky, omegas are bought

“Steve, man, shut the fuck up.”

The table roars with laughter, except for Steve, who turns beet red.

“Sam, I swear to God. I’m just excited.”

Sam chuckles softly and shakes his head.

“I’m just teasing. But seriously, if I hear Buckyone more time, I’m going to snap.” He warns, clapping the blonde on the back. Tony smiles and looks down at his almost rock-hard pizza. All this past week, Steve’s only been talking about the omega his parents bought him from one of the private schools, a tiny brunette named Bucky. Some of the group has their doubts, like Clint, who swears everything Steve is saying is a lie. His main argument is that the omega is moving in ‘a week’,which is a ‘lame coverup.’

Tony’s happy for Steve, he really is, but it sucks that he wasn’t the first one to get an omega. His parents insist he needs to meet an omega before they buy him, which is ridiculous, because no one actually does that.

“You wanna come get Bucky’s collar with me after school, Tony?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, sure.” The other Alpha mutters, taking a sip of his apple juice.

Steve shoots him a thumbs up.

🌼🌼

“Do you even know where this place is?”

Steve smiles as they walk down the crowded streets of New York, blue eyes flicking around as he searches for Poppy Petals Omega Boutique.

“Yes. Maybe.” Steve replies and Tony rolls his eyes. There’s a light lavender awning a few stores away, and Tony could guess that’s where they need to be. They walk fast, faster than usual, but slow down when the sign comes into view. And holy shit,his heart stops when they reach the window.

There’s an omega in the window, sleeping on the luxury cream loveseat. He’s snuggled under the fluffy white blanket, lips parted as he naps. His face is gorgeous and peaceful, small freckles dotting his nose, glitter sweeping his plump cheeks. Even sleeping his hair is perfect, almond curls splayed on the pillow.

“Steve,” Tony croaks, eyes not leaving the window. The blonde stops next to him, humming in response. The omega opens his eyes, big whiskey colored orbs glinting with amusement. He smiles softly, sitting up and stretching his arms out in front of him. His white sweater slips down his shoulder, exposing the creamy pale skin underneath.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Steve jokes, Tony’s brain trying to think of a witty comeback. The other alpha is already opening the front door, and Tony rushes after him.

The bell chimes on the door, and the inside smells so good, like vanilla and honey. An young-ish woman stands behind the cream wooden counter, thick glasses perched on her nose.

“Hi, how are you?” She asks, turning her attention back to the book in her hands. Steve looks uncomfortable, hands tucked into the pockets of his school issued slacks.

“Um, I need a collar for my new omega?” He asks, the woman not tearing her eyes away from her book.

“I can help!”

The voice is the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. The omega from the window is standing between two displays, smiling wide. Tony’s awestruck, eyes dragging over his milky bare thighs.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tony says before Steve can ask anymore questions. The boy flushes beautifully, bashfully looking at the floor. The woman at the counter pulls Steve to one of the corners of the store, thank god, so he can revel in the omega a little bit longer.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” The omega purrs, tucking a soft curl behind his ear.

“Call me Tony, honey,” The alpha responds suavely, finally snapping out of his trance to get his charming, sweet talking personality back. The omega giggles and bounces on his bare feet.

“Hi, Tony!” He chirps, and wraps his arms around the older’s torso. It’s so omegan, hugging instead of a handshake as a greeting. Tony hugs back, and his skin is so soft, he could pet the boy forever.

“I’m Peter!” He giggles when he pulls away, practically vibrating with excitement. Tony yearns to get his hands on that skin again.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous omega, I say.” He quips with a wink, squeezing Peter’s bicep gently. The younger lets out a breathy little giggle, nuzzling against the lapel of Tony’s school blazer.

“You think I’m pretty?” He asks softly, eyes wide in disbelief.

“The prettiest I’ve ever seen, Jesus,” Tony, growls licking his dry lips because he’s got an armful of precious omega. Peter hums happily, keening at the praise.

“The sisters at the Pine say all omegas are pretty.” He lilts, and oh, that’s the- that’s the best omega private school in the state. Hell, even the east coast.

“Pine Hill?” Tony repeats as Peter runs his finger over the embroidered Anthonyon his breast pocket.

“Mhm! We get a time back home before visiting week.”

Tony open and closes his mouth a few times.

“Like, where the alphas come and pick an omega?” He confirms, and Peter nods excitedly, then widens his eyes.

“Wait, do you-“ Peter tries to form his words, “Do you want to come?”

“I’ll see if I’m free.”

Peter gasps and bounces up and down.

“Are you serious? I’ve never had an alpha come for me before!”He shouts, squeezing Tony tight. For a split second, the alpha thinks he’s gotten himself in to deep. But, he really wants an omega, and his parents will be proud, and Steve can’t be better than him.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to my parents, okay?”

“Yes! Okay! Aunt May! Guess what?”

🌼🌼

It’s relatively easy to find information on Peter.

With a little digging, he finds the school’s yearbook from the previous year, little Peter Parker with his gorgeous smile and perfect makeup on page 23. May Parker, his aunt, owns the Poppy Petals Omega Boutique, Peter sitting in the window whenever he’s home from school.

He decides to break the news over dinner.

“Mom? Dad?”

Maria and Howard look up from their fettuccine alfredo.

“I, um,” Tony has to cough and clear his throat, “I found an omega.”

Howard raises his eyebrows, almost approvingly. “And?”

“Yeah, well, his name’s Peter. Peter Parker. He goes to Pine Hill.”

His mother inhales sharply. Money’s never a problem for them, it won’t make a dent in their bank account, but probably the fact that Tony even knows what Saint Monica’s is caused the reaction.

“Pine Hill? He must be one of the best trained omegas out there.” She inclines, stabbing at her noodles. Tony nods, Howard still staying silent. “And where did you meet him?”

“I went with Steve to pick up something from that boutique in the city. He was there in the window,” Tony has to pause to take a breath. “God, mom, he’s beautiful.”

Maria smiles softly and Howard looks impressed.

“And visitation week is soon, I presume?” His mother presses. She always needs to know what’s going on and every little detail.

“Yeah, next Monday. The website says we need to call in and schedule an appointment if we have a specific omega in mind.” Tony tells her, pushing his noodles around impatiently. “I can call, if you want.”

“That would be very responsible of you, Anthony.” His father says, and Tony almost shoots him a glare, but remembers that he’s the one that’s going to pay thousands of dollars for his omega.

For Tony, dinner goes by way too slowly. He’s bursting with excitement when his parents dismiss him from the table, scrambling upstairs to his phone. He dials the school’s number, and a woman picks up immediately.

“Pine Hill School for Omegas, this is Abigail. How may I help you?”

“Hi, um, I was looking to meet an omega, possibly take him home?”

“Of course!” She chirps, and Tony leans back in his desk chair. “Do you want us to pair you up with an omega, or do you have one in mind?”

“I was interested in Peter Parker?” He says, and deep down inside he can’t believe this conversation is actually happening.

“Oh, yes! He’s a sweetheart. Is there a day next week which would be best for you?”

“Yeah, I don’t have football practice on Wednesday. That would be best.”Tony tells her, flipping a pen absentmindedly.

“That’s perfect. We have a spot open for 3:15. Will that work?”

“Sounds great.”

“You’re legal guardians will have to attend as well. Can I have a name for the appointment?”

“Tony Stark.”

There’s a silence from the receptionist.

“Mr. Stark, I had no idea. I’ll be seeing you Wednesday!”

“Yup. Thanks so much.”

“Have a nice day!”

He hangs the phone up, lets out a sigh, and smiles.

🌼🌼

“Mom, do I look okay?”

Maria rolls her eyes, squeezing Tony’s shoulder gently. The alpha continues to fiddle with his hair, looking at the reflection on the car window.

“You look wonderful, Anthony. He’ll love you.” She coos, swatting his hand away from his hand. Tony takes a deep breath and turns to the school.

It’s beautiful, really. Built in the late 1800’s, the school has two large towers and a rustic feel from the worn walls. The landscaping is a contrast to the building, greens and purples and blues around the front and down the path. Pine Hill School for Omegas is written above the huge double doors, the gold plated letters glinting in the April sun.

“Come on, we’ll be late.” His father huffs, gravel crunching under his shined Oxfords. His mother grabs Howard’s arm to steady herself, black heels not intended for walking on the small pebbles. Tony trails behind them, smoothing out his navy dress shirt. There’s more people than he would expect on a normal school day, alphas of all types getting out of their cars and heading inside.

The main lobby is cool, with tall windows and even bigger ceilings. There’s a giant, glittering, gold chandelier hanging over the white marble floors. There’s a receptionist desk to the right, and Tony’s parents wait beside the doors as he checks in.

“Hi, Mr. Stark!” The receptionist greets cheerily. The metal name tag on her desk reads Abigail Walter, the lady he spoke with on the phone. “You’re just in time. Peter and our Head of Affairs are ready to see you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Walter.” He responds with a impatient smile.

“Conference Room 15. Just keep going down this main hall, and it’s on the right.”

Tony flashes another smile and heads to his parents.

“Come on, mom!” Tony laughs, resisting the urge to sprint down the fucking hall to meet his omega. Maria smiles her warm smile, adjusting her blouse and following Tony. They locate Conference Room 15 pretty easily, and the door’s open, Tony’s breath catching in his throat because Peter is sitting at the side of the conference table.

“Tony! Tony!” He squeals, and Tony can’t help but smile wide, sitting down across from him. The omega is beaming, lips shiny with gloss. The woman from the store, May, sits next to him, lips drawn in a tight line. Another beta woman is at the head of the table, dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, bangs swept to the side.

“I’m Maria Hill, Head of Affairs at the school. We’ll be talking about how this all works, okay?”

The group spends the next hour going through stacks of paperwork. Peter doesn’t do anything, just sits there and sneaks glances of Tony. The alpha will wink when he meets Peter’s gaze, causing the little thing to flush prettily. There’s a lot of signing on dotted lines, and Tony’s pretty sure his signature has improved the most it ever has before. May agrees to letting Peter into the Stark family. Ms. Hill makes it clear that they can’t bar Peter from visiting his family or friends, which is perfectly understandable.

Truly, Tony will let him do anything his heart desires.

Ms. Hill asks the two to go get Peter’s luggage from his dorm, and the omega jumps up excitedly. It’s the first time Tony gets a glimpse of his school uniform, the top like his own but a pleated skirt on the bottom.

“Alpha, I can show you my dorm!” Peter exclaims, pulling Tony out of the office chair and into the main hallway.

“Peter, slow down!” The alpha chuckles as Peter rushes down the hall, to one of the sets of stairs in the corner. The boy giggles as Tony grips his waist, stopping them before the first set of stairs.

“You’re amazing,” He breathes, Peter pressed to his chest, staring at him lovingly.

“Can I have a kiss?” The omega asks quietly, so innocent and sweet Tony’s heart just melts. He laughs softly and presses his lips to Peter’s. He tastes like cake and cookies, and he’s so inexperienced it’s endearing.

“Mm, Alpha.” He purrs, nuzzling into Tony’s silk shirt.

“We have to get your stuff, baby.”

The pet name slips out so easily, and Peter likes it, if his wide smile says anything.

The omega babbles all the way up the stairs, and through the hallways, holding Tony’s hand as he winds his way through the dorm wing. The other omegas who are in the hall stare at them with jealousy. It pets Tony’s ego for sure, knowing that Peter’s the one who gets him.

They stop at room 237, a handmade sign reading Peter + Harley! in neon script under the worn numbers.

“We have a special knock.” Peter giggles, rapping his knuckles on the door in a rapid succession. The door swings open, a dark blonde omega standing inside.

“Pete, what-“ He stops mid-sentence when he catches a glimpse of Tony.

“Alpha, this is my best friend Harley! Harls, this is my alpha Tony!” Peter shares, pushing past Harley and pulling Tony into his dorm. It’s not terrible, not as big as Tony’s, but it doesn’t matter now.

“Peter, you didn’t tell me Tony fucking Stark was taking you home.” Harley snaps, collapsing on the wooden chair in front of his desk. Peter just giggles as he pushes Tony down onto the bed.

“I did! I said Tony, didn’t I?” He quips, pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek as he hands him two duffle bags and a suitcase.

“There’s a million Tony’s.” Harley huffs as Peter shucks off his blazer.

“‘M gonna change, alpha, sit tight!” Peter giggles and fuck, he’s undressing down to his white lace panties. Tony has to lick his dry lips, because Peter is stunning, with miles of perfect skin and a tiny omega cock nestled in the lace.

“You’re staring,” Peter teases as he slips on a loose, white button up. It’s stylish, tied in the front with short sleeves. He pairs that with tiny white denim shorts, and he looks like a literal angel.

“How can I not?” Tony smiles as Peter kisses him softly. He hums happily, running his hands on the omega’s tiny waist.

“Save the sex for later, Peter.”

Peter pulls away quickly, face heated in embarrassment. Tony kisses his cheek and coos, slinging the two duffel bags over his shoulders.

“You’re so strong, Tony.” Peter purrs, eagerly peppering kisses onto the elder’s neck. The alpha just chuckles, holding his suitcase in one of his free hands.

“Bye Harley, ‘m gonna miss you.”

Peter squeezes Harley tight, reallytight, and the other omega grimaces.

“Keep in touch!” He squeaks, and Tony follows him out the door. The only sound in the hallway is the wheels of the suitcase on the burgundy carpet.

Peter asks a million questions a minute as Tony carries the case down the steps. It’s not even close to annoying, he answers every question to a T. He spots his parents and May standing in the lobby, making small talk.

“Are you ready, boys?” His mother asks sweetly, and Peter nods. He makes his way over to May, who holds him gently. Tony turns to his parents to give the two some privacy, May muttering something to her nephew.

“Take care of him.” May says to Tony, and he nods vigorously. He may be..a little intimidated by the older alpha and her hard stare. Peter takes Tony’s hand in his, nuzzling close into his arm.

“Alpha?” He asks softly as Tony’s parents shake May’s hand. Tony looks down at his boy, gazing into those wide honey eyes. “Are we going home?”

Tony laughs loudly and kisses those baby soft cheeks, causing Peter to squeal and giggle.

“We’re going to go out for dinner, how does that sound?” Howard speaks up, and Peter clasps his hands together happily.

Dinner is nice.

He orders Peter 3 different dishes, lobster, steak, and shrimp. He’s precious, eating the food with his thin fingers, practically moaning at each piece. The omega even took to nudging small pieces of steak at Tony’s lips, almost bursting into tears when Tony said he has his own food. Peter is thrilled when the waitress asks if they want desserts, and Maria encourages him to order as much as he wants. Peter teared up when Tony put his debit card in the check, expressing how he’s such a good alpha and I love you so much.

“Alpha?” Peter whispers in Tony’s ear during the car ride home, bellies full with expensive meals. “When we get home, can we- can you give me your knot?��

Tony has to bite his lip to keep from growling.

“Yeah baby,” He mutters against the shell of Peter’s ear. “You want my knot? You’ll get it, because you’re such a good boy.”

Tony licks up Peter’s neck, making the younger squirm. He smells delicious when he’s aroused, and Tony can see Howard’s hands tighten on the steering wheel as they pull in their driveway.

“Welcome home, baby boy.”

#starker #starker fic #my writing #abo dynamics #alpha tony #omega peter

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rureikia · 4 years

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Chapter 4

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The start of high school was a very crucial milestone for me. Because not only did I have a crush on Kita, but I also got accepted to go to the same school like him too.

Inarizaki High.

When I saw the magical letter of confirmation, my heart blossomed by a large magnitude.

I was so agitated with the thought of having three more years with Kita Shinsuke I thought I was beginning to see stars... I mean, for a young girl whose heart was fully set in stone for a celestial being like him, how could you not be awfully excited? It meant three more years of opportunities that I'd definitely not let go to waste, three more years of seeing his face! All the scenarios occurring in my head, in hopes that one day, these would come true...

I specifically remember on the day the letter arrived on how I was sprinting around the house to show mom and dad.

At the time, my parents didn't know why I was that happy over getting accepted since I used to be pretty distasteful about studying. But they quickly shifted it aside and congratulated me nevertheless.

It was like the scream painting. I can still draw out their faces in my head. Mom and dad were startled as they never expected me to have gotten into one of the top high schools in the prefecture — they ended up jumping along with me regardless of their previous doubts!

So on the first day of school, I marched out of my house in my new uniform, and a satisfied grin widely spread across my face.

The basic philosophy was to try and pass all exams, but the true aim for me was to find Kita Shinsuke, then ultimately confess to him. Next, he'd accept my confession and we would date, he then proposes, we get married, start a family ehehehe... Ah, I mustn't carry on or else I'll get too thoughtful...

But I was really excited (excitement lasted one-week maximum). I wanted to get to school pronto and see all the new people that would be circling me all through the next years. And so my determination was at its top game by then.

Whilst dusting my skirt and straightening it out, I closed my front door, but kept hold of my door handle to wait.

After a minute or two, from the opposite side of my street, I also heard someone else's door open.

I let go of my door handle, appearing as if I just came out of my house too.

In an instant, I knew who it was, hence why I gasped apprehensively to myself and thrashed around to look, "Ah, Kita!! Good morning!"

He sees me, adjusts his bag strap, and walks away without considering my call.

"Kita!" I called out again, assuming he didn't hear me the first time, "Wait for me!"

I was nearly about to run and go get him because he was already walking from a significant reach away. But just then, my mother abruptly forced the front door open with an annoyed scowl face before I had even managed to escape.

"(Y/N)! Why are you yelling so much in the morning? You sound like a stupid person, the neighbors will complain because of your loud mouth!" Her hands were on her hips, and she spoke to me in much vex.

I flashed a swift glimpse at Kita.

Okay. He wasn't waiting for me.

Mom was still in the middle of scolding me, and I got impatient as she was suddenly like an obstacle I needed to overcome for me to catch up with fast-feet Kita Shinsuke.

"Yeah, yeah I'm in a hurry. Mom, let's talk later okay?" I replied in slight rashness.

"Excuse me? Why are you acting like that? If you are in such a hurry why are you still here? I don't understand!!" Mom grabbed my hand, throwing down 600 yen for lunch then shoved me away, "You forgot this too. Gosh... Who is this hopeless girl? I don't know her. Just leave now!"

Why must this old lady insult me so incredibly fast?

I halted to stare at the money in my palm and solemnly glanced back at her, "Wait, mom... This might not be enough for lunch..." I whined.

"Yes it is. Lunch is cheap there." She smacks my shoulder and I made another whine a tad louder at the impact, "Tsk, (Y/N) don't complain anymore. Just be grateful, have a good day, and go."

My shoulders grieved a bit but I went along with it, "OK thanks...Bye-bye..."

As soon as she closed the door on me, I left.

I tried my best to catch up with Kita who was walking by himself in the distance. And after seeing him in the same uniform as me, once again, I was unbearably excited to go approach him.

This was a period of time where I'd constantly be a hindrance to Kita. However, I didn't really take this into account until much much later.

Since I took interest in him during second-year middle school, that interest only developed from thereon. By the time it was third-year middle school, I full-blown liked him. And then at first-year high-school, it developed into something called puppy love.

Kita, he was rather laid-back about it. He didn't tell me to go away nor to stop talking to him — rather he would just let me do whatever whilst throwing cold logic at me whenever he feels the need to.

Well, I say that he's rather laid-back but in actuality, he'd try and evade me at times by ignoring the things I'd do. I was still childish and quite gullible, so I simply assumed he was bluffing to push me away and to hide his genuine feelings.

With that in mind, I remembered how back then I was wholly convinced that I could win him over in a jiffy. And this was entirely due to my mind being intoxicated from those all dramas, shoujo mangas, and anime's I watched in the past. Subsequently, I thought I owned a special power like no other, which was the power of love and commitment.

15-year-old me seriously believed that she would be able to do anything with the power of love deeply engraved in her soul. I basically believed I was the next generation's Sailor Moon...

For me to express my loyalty towards Kita, I revised everything needed for that entrance exam with extra diligence. And that was more than enough proof to show that the power of love really does work miracles. After all, because of my power, I was wearing the school's crest embedded on my blazer, the same one as whom I strived for.

"Kita good morning, hhh." I greeted breathily, speed-walking next to him.

He nods a response, "Morning."

I straightened my posture and smiled awkwardly at him by accident. Then I tried to strike up a conversation which was probably also accidentally awkward, "Kita don't you think this is such a coincidence? We will be going to the same school again this year. It's uh — it's a perfect match isn't it?"

He carries on walking forwards, without looking at me. "The entry requirements for Inarizaki must have lowered this year if that's the case."

I didn't know at the time, but this guy was totally degrading me here.

"Oh yes, that has happened. By a couple of points, it has lowered actually." I addressed with formality in my speech like some intellectual, "That means the God of fortune must be by my side, don't you think?"

Kita didn't reply and we walked in silence for a couple more seconds.

.......

"Uh......... Kita!" I called out.

The suddenness finally resulted in him shifting his head a little to peer at me.

"Kita, wait for a second."

Kita listened for once, stopping in his tracks, glancing back at me.

When we were teenagers, he would experience my resilient pestering daily. This was additionally a section of life where relationships and emotions are new to everyone, especially for kids that were around that age — high-schoolers.

I can distinctly pick out the uncountable amounts of times where I'd loiter outside my house early in the morning just before he comes out. And when I hear his door open from across the street I would act as if I just came out too — "Kita, you just got ready now? Oh, what a coincidence, so have I."

There's also the case that would happen in school. I'd pack up all my belongings and shove it in my bag before the teacher dismissed the class. This was so I could have enough time to leave and walk home with Kita, "Another coincidence! I'm going to leave school too!"

"..." Eventually, I took a deep breath and gripped onto my bag straps that were wrapped around my shoulders tightly, building up the fury in my chest. Then studying around carefully I made sure no one was present before I took a few side-steps closer to him.

I don't know why I was such a shameless little girl back then. I have to admit that it's not very good to reminisce about my past, it hurts my dignity a lot.

But with the expression as if I was going to complete a huge quest, I confessed to him.

"I like you," I said.

Kita stared at me blankly for a second, then furrowed his eyebrows and told me, "I don't."

"..."

With that, my life advice is: do not read too much manga.

After the rejection, he blatantly left it at that and continued walking to school as if he forgot about it. I, on the other hand, felt extremely embarrassed and tried to think of what to do. My rational decision was to run off towards a different path like a coward.

Just as I was about to bolt, I nervously called out to Kita for the last time that morning, "I-I guess I'll see you later okay Kita?!"

He didn't acknowledge it since he didn't look back, but neither did I. And so we both departed ways.

Obviously, me being older now, I understand how I was unmistakably not as discreet as I presumed to be. I have been told by many friends that even an elephant wearing a shocking pink dress can do a better job at being discreet than me.

So I know now. Teenage Kita already could tell that I liked him for a very long time even before that terrible confession of mine. But oddly, he chose to not bother spilling to others regarding it, I still don't know to this day why.

As a child I was impatient, that's why I chose to confess on the actual first day of high-school. And that impatience lingered on for a while. I'm sure that this flaw caused me to be a nuisance to Kita Shinsuke; so he probably disliked that part, which is another thing I didn't think about until much later.

Later on, when I arrived at school, I experienced the worst sort of depressiveness where I felt my whole environment turn into a darkening abyss.

Outside the 1st year hallways, I examined the posters where it would tell us what class we would be assigned in.

KITA SHINSUKE: CLASS 7

Okay, that's very good!

(L/N) (Y/N): CLASS 2

That... I hate...

And so I dragged myself to Class 2 where a certain someone saw my dismal brooding.

"(L/N) why do you look like that? You look so miserable on your first day already?!" An enthusiastic voice called me out.

I gloomily averted my gaze up. It was my old friend, Taro.

Taro also went to the same middle school as me. And we became friends over the liking towards graphic novels — it was actually because of that interest of his, he wasn't very popular with the girls haha.

"...I'm not sad. I'm devastated." I sighed out in a daze.

He was eating bread, and talked with food still in his mouth, "Why?"

"Because I was put in a different class to what I think I really deserve. Don't you think the class rank system is a bit unfair?"

Taro snorted contemptuously and shook his head at my idea, "No not at all, you just want to be in the same class as Kita."

"Not so," I argued.

"Is so." He argued back with his head held higher, "(L/N), I don't know why you think this is unfair, you very much deserve it."

I glared at him in disapproval.

Then he proceeds, using the bread in his hand to gesture at me, "Whilst Kita has an IQ of at least 200, yours is way below in the negatives. So you're incredibly lucky that you weren't put in your true class. Class zero."

"Huh...? Class zero doesn't exist... What are you even saying?"

"You get to be in the same class as this intelligent guy instead!" Taro uses a spare hand to pat his chest, "Isn't that great (L/N)?!"

My face rapidly scrunched up in displeasure at those words and actions, "Uwah... Calling yourself intelligent. If you think that I have an IQ below the negatives, you will be the same as me since we're in the same class. Who do you think you are?"

"I am someone that at least has enough common sense to find someone not way out of my league, that's who I think I am."

I briefly grinned at him in annoyance and retaliated with a reply, "Go back to sit on your seat, leave me alone now."

He stifled a quiet laugh and did what I said with an effortless shrug.

I wasn't expecting to be put in class 2 to be honest. I would never expect myself in class 7 either. But I just wanted to be in the same class as Kita in hopes that we'd be deskmates for the following three years.

But as shown, that never happened.

Instead, I had to rely on my individual skills to be around him as much as I could.

I went straight to bed after last night and woke up with the worst possible headache that one could imagine. The headache was so bad in fact that I was concerned whether I had a type of brain disease and wasn't going to survive.

And the throbbing pain only attacked me once I groggily opened my eyes to see the sunshine which wasn't a good idea since I felt dizzy. So I had to cover my face with my duvets to stop any more light from stinging me.

I'm currently in pain right now, but I was quite okay when I was asleep and felt nothing. In fact, I underwent a type of sleep that was so deep, it confused my dreams towards real-life circumstances, making me rather delirious.

I opened my eyes again, reluctantly tossing around to squint at the ceiling fan, and tried hard to recall what happened yesterday.

From what I can accurately remember... I went to a goukon with Sumiko, I met some new people, I ate at least twenty dishes, I drank, I saw a handsome worker, I saw Kita with that handsome worker, I got frightened and quickly hid outside, but suddenly he was outside too(?!?!) so I was forced to talk with him for a minute before I went back inside, I drank some more and incidentally got drunk, I then remembered that he took me home because of how drunk I was......... And then, we kissed.

Oh yes, we k-i-s-s-e-d. Me and my ex-boyfriend.

And I was thinking about the kiss so much apparently I was given a dream about it too.

It was a dream akin to where I was with Kita. An altered memory of that same kiss replaying over and over again for what felt like hours on end. In that dream, we may have used a bit too much mouth work and tongue which isn't very good... Makes me feel quite abashed... Then I woke up with my cheek muscles feeling sore which additionally, isn't very good.

I rubbed my eyes sluggishly when lifting my torso from my bed to regain proper consciousness. I noticed was still wearing my work attire from yesterday, except I looked tenfold scruffier.

Did I fight someone while I was in the zone? Honestly, I'm so tired I didn't care about the context. So I'll just go back to sleep...

...Well, that's what I wanted until I heard a voice sing to me inside my head.

"If you remember... Call me."

"you remember... Call me."

"remember... Call me."

"Call me."

(GASP)

As expected from an unintentional flirt like Kita, his words woke me up.

I frantically attempted to roll out of bed but ended up falling flat on my back with a loud, painful thump. At the impact, I groaned, staggering to my feet and grabbing my phone that was on the top of my neatly folded work blazer by my chair.

Once I accomplished to scamper around like a bug, I turned it on to scroll to Kita's contact information and stared intensely at his name.

Me: "..."

No, I couldn't do it. I clicked on my friend Taro's contact information instead to procrastinate. And to my surprise, he picked up abnormally fast.

......

"Hello, good morning~!" Taro said in English appearing a bit too happy for my liking.

"Hey, it's me..." my hoarse morning voice croaked with a tired sigh at the end.

"Oh... Jesus Christ. That doesn't sound too good... What is it (L/N)? You sound a little dead." He said, "Did something happen last night?"

I nodded my head vigorously as if he could see me, but regretted when it made me feel woozy. "Yeah kinda... — wait, how did you know that something was going on last night?"

"Instagram aha. Well, Sumiko mainly."

"Eh...? Sumiko? Something must've happened with you two then." I scoffed, "Okay, tell me yours first. Go on."

"Alright, I'll be brief 'cuz I want to hear your story. But to summarise, Sumiko-chan broke up with me and she wanted to prove that she can find someone very quickly." He begins to explain, "I then checked Instagram last night to see some of the posts from the goukon you two were at."

Ah, their romance is a little confusing I should mention. This is probably the fourth time they "broke-up" this month.

To others, this might seem a bit neglective and unhealthy, but I know the most that these two care for each other strongly. Last night, I noticed that she didn't even bother flirting with any of the men. Instead, she talked with the women throughout the majority of the event.

I switched my phone from one ear to another, "So I've heard from herself that the two of you have broken up again. What's it this time? Did she get angry over something silly?" I asked, "Is that why she accepted the goukon invitation?"

"Pfft, obviously. Of course Sumiko got angry over something silly." He laughs, "But... She didn't run off like that to seriously break off with me. You know how she is. Sumiko just tried to prove me wrong in something because of how prideful she can be. Sometimes, she even has the same competitive energy as you."

I breathed out a chuckle, feeling a little more calmed down, "Impossible. I'm nothing like her when it comes to that sort of stuff. I'm not as confident."

"No way. I think you guys are definitely similar in that aspect. I've been with the two of you since high-school, I think I know the best." He affirms, and I shake my head at his claiming words, "Anyways, back to you. What's up (L/N)? Why'd you call?"

He reminded me why I wanted to call. And all of a sudden, I became remarkably hesitant. I was so hesitant actually I almost bit my tongue when opening my mouth to speak.

"Uh — Taro... You remember Kita, r-right?"

"Mhm, of course, yeah. Your ex-boyfriend, Mr. Perfect."

"Well... Me and Kita met last night..."

"Eh?! —" His tone jumps by four octaves in surprise, then deepens, "— Uh, Okay...?"

"And I wasn't really expecting him to be there..." I trailed.

Taro paused and inhaled sharply before filling words between our silent space, "(L/N), you're kind of scaring me now..."

Don't worry, I'm scaring myself too.

I swallowed the nervous saliva that built up as I struggled to speak, "And kinda...We maybe uh — kissed."

......

"WHAT?!" He loudly exclaimed. His side of the audio turned distorted and my eardrums burst.

"A-Ah yeah hahahaha..."

"LAST NIGHT?! Are you sure?! How come I didn't see him in any of the goukon posts though? Did Sumiko invite him purposely just to mess with you?! That's pure evil!! I'll scold her for you when she gets home... Wait unless... Are you guys back together then?! After three years, I thought you two would never be together ever again! But what the heck (L/N), you and Kita really kissed? What the actual fu-"

I can't do this anymore.

I hung up. His voice is quite annoying to listen to with a hangover like this. I'll let Taro try to figure out everything himself.

I scrolled through my contacts once more and attempted to call Sumiko but was immediately left on voicemail to my disappointment. So now, the only remaining person I wanted to call left was... Kita Shinsuke...

For some reason, when my finger hovered over his name it felt like I was being punished with the death penalty. And to make matters more nerve-wracking, once I clicked on his contact information, my hand was shaking whilst I raised my phone to my ear.

It took another couple of seconds, but his phone started ringing. Hearing the ring made me so scared to the point I shuddered and started pacing around my room.

......

Kita picked up and spoke first, "Hello?"

"Ah." I jolted.

Oh god, why did I make this phone call? I should have practiced what to say at the very least.

His voice stayed nonchalant, "(Y/N), what is it?"

Okay, I think I got something.

I stopped and took a whole two seconds to build up the confidence needed for the next thing I'm about to say.

Then, after a big breath, I began my rambling; "Okay Kita, listen here. I am very unhappy with you right now. You kissed me last night while I was drunk and you did it without my permission, it's not good to do that to someone in that state! Kita why? What on earth were you thinking?! Your actions were very wrong, and you need to think thoroughly about what you did, and you shouldn't do that to me again. In fact, you shouldn't do that to anyone!! Consent is very important to people, and if I was drunk you should haven't taken advantage! You're rather lucky that I am a nice person and that—"

He cuts me off, "(Y/N). Don't yell. I can hear you even if you speak normally."

I shut my mouth at his scold straight away and quietened by a significant volume, "Oh... Was I being too loud? Sorry about that... But still, you shouldn't interrupt so suddenly, I am trying to tell you something important..."

"You shouldn't be loud nonetheless, you'll feel light-headed if you have a hangover."

I was going to ramble again, but I had to stop myself when I sensed something peculiar in my environment.

Something wasn't right.

For a brief moment, I pressed my phone to my chest and silently glanced around as if trying to wait for an event to occur. When I became even more suspicious, I put my phone back to my ear, "Hold on, say something."

Kita, "Like what?"

I could hear two voices. Both unquestionably belonging to my ex-boyfriend. And to make matters worse, I also smelled something bad coming from outside my room. Hence why I hastily sped out of my room like a professional athlete.

The reason I could hear two different Kitas was because I saw him in my kitchen from the open living room. I panicked and ran straight there.

So it seemed that he really was in my apartment, therefore I wasn't experiencing complete hysteria. And he was also cooking something too (not a good sign), the phone still to his ear.

The only thing was, it smelled like pretty bad burning.

Fumes were coming out of my kitchen and I couldn't believe the fire alarm hadn't buzzed off violently by now.

I hurriedly ran inside my kitchen, my first animalistic instinct was to turn the stove off. My second animalistic instinct was to hold back this huge urge to do something to Kita. I really wanted to throw an object at him, maybe my cushion or my lamp because of what I had just witnessed.

For a man that is known to be good at everything, he doesn't seem to know a single damn thing about the kitchen, does he?

"Kita Shinsuke! What do you think you're doing?!" I exclaimed, taking the wok he grasped by the handle. I swear if I woke up any later my apartment would have fallen into a crisp.

He turned to look at me with the most innocent expression on his face, "You're up earlier than usual." He said, ignoring what he just did, "You used to sleep until 11 on weekends."

In return, I ignored his statement and stared at my precious wok, seeing charred eggs that were now an indescribable dark matter.

I was using my index finger and thumb to carefully take it off, but it was stubbornly stuck to the material... It wasn't glamorous at all.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, this guy forgot to put oil and burned everything... Ahhhhhhhhhhh I'm going to have a mental breakdown now... My wok!!! He ruined this one-of-a-kind wok I ordered from Beijing!!

I crouched down and placed my wok on the kitchen's tiled floor. Then very aggressively, I was scratching the top of my head, showing my painful distress, "Kita, why did you try and make eggs without oil? I have taught you in the past that you must put oil when making stuff like this, did I not? And I don't understand why you're in my apartment either!"

"I couldn't find your oil, so I used water." He said with a perfectly straight face.

"..."

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it since I had nothing to say. And at this moment I felt utterly incompetent. Hence why I was sitting down on my kitchen floor, wanting to collapse and go to sleep right on this spot.

I have come to understand that I cannot understand Kita Shinsuke.

He then continued, "Last night you told me that you didn't want me to leave. That's why I'm here."

I looked up at him with a frown, "No. You're lying."

"I'm not."

"How come I don't remember that and remember everything else?"

"Maybe you were drunk." Kita shrugs and cracks a teasingly small smile, "What do you remember then?"

That question was atrocious because I knew what he was hinting at. So I had to hold my voice down even though really wanted to wail aloud, "How... drunk was I?"

"Hm. Do you really not remember anything?" he asks, crouching down to pick up the messed up wok and rose back up.

I remembered the kiss, after that everything truly was a blur, I couldn't seem to recall anything. No matter how hard I try to think back, nothing comes into my mind. Therefore I needed to check myself again.

What happened? Is there anything different about me?

I'm still wearing my work attire, however, the blazer I had on last night was not on me anymore, it's neatly folded on my chair, which Kita must have done. I'm not wearing my stockings either and my blouse was untucked too...

Oh.

That's when electricity struck me.

I stood up with great suspense, wrapping my arms around my torso protectively, "You... —You didn't do anything to me, did you? I remember this kiss, but you haven't done anything after, right...?"

Kita's brows pinch in irritation and he pushes my forehead back with his index finger where I made a sound of struggle at the action.

"(Y/N) are you dim? What is going inside that small brain of yours?"

"A-Ah! I'm just asking out of worry..." I said slouching back, finally relaxing a bit, "You don't have to speak to me like that..."

Kita puts the wok in my sink whilst I slumped, gave up, and decided to go to put some water in my kettle to make tea. When doing so, I asked him another question.

"Were you here all night then?"

"Yeah." He replied.

Why?

"You should have woken me up," I chided, "I had a spare futon you could have used."

He shook his head modestly, "Your couch is comfortable too, so I was okay."

"I see."

"But what about you, did you sleep fine?"

I took a mug out of my cupboard and exhaled a little, "I slept fine as well. My head kinda hurts, but there's medicine in the bathroom, so I'll leave to go take that and wash myself up soon."

"That's good."

There was a lot to process already, but I decided to push that away for now.

One of my main concerns however was what he said to me some moments ago.

Kita claims that I told him I didn't want him to leave, which is the reason why he stayed. And I began to question what I might have said to him exactly for him to do actually listen to that supposed request.

He was washing the wok he ruined as I was now heavily debating what to do by eyeing him every couple of seconds or so.

I felt quite conflicted. I hated to think about how Kita was utterly handsome during those stealthy glances I did.

His hair was messed up, his eyes were more doe than usual. He wasn't wearing his jacket or sweater from last night but was presently wearing his T-shirt and jeans... And we were both standing here. In my kitchen. Where I sensed no discomfort coming from his body language as mine was astonishingly rigid.

Still, despite my negative demeanor, I couldn't help but contemplate while making a cup of tea. This is where the inner-conflict comes into play.

I didn't know whether to hug him from behind like what you'd see in the movies. Or maybe secretly stand up on my tiptoes and deliver him a kiss on the cheek, or carry on watching his concentrated side profile while crying really big, salty tears.

In the end, I just called out his name, "Kita. Your tea is here."

He didn't answer verbally, but nods.

I tapped Kita's shoulder this time, "It'll get cold, drink fast."

To that, he takes a short glimpse at me then goes back to washing my traditional Chinese wok, "I'll clean this up first. It won't take long."

Hmm, perhaps he feels bad for the mess he made and is trying to make up for it.

"Okay," I said, "If it gets cold, you can just reheat. I'm going to wash up now."

He nods again in reassurance, and I give him one last glance before getting out of the kitchen to grab stuff for the bathroom.

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#kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #fanfiction update #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke imagine #haikyuu

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