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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

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Hi! I've spent hours reading your Steddie stuff when I honestly should have been sleeping because work and adulting. Gotta be some of my favorite writing! You have requests/prompts open? I have 2! If you like them :) 1. The Soulmate idea of people having a moving animal tattoo representing their Soulmate. Steve has hyperactive bat who loves to drape itself around his neck quite possessively. Eddie with a retriever pup or something that likes to curl up over his heart. 2. Always a sweetheart Steve? No King Steve era thing. He bugs Eddie to learn about D&D to understand his kids better qnd our poor metal gremlin melts :) I'm Soft Boi, so sorry for no angst.

I'm posting the 1st one here, but on the second one, I am gonna just give a rec instead. Last Man Standing by @griefabyss69 (GriefAbyss on AO3) is kind of this request but taking it to filth level 😈 But anyways, this idea is so fucking cool my dudes. I love a good soulmate AU, and when it's something super unique like this, I lose my shit. I definitely think someone could make a slow burn with this idea and if anyone does, please let me know! - Mickala ❤️

---------------------------------------------------------

He used to hate it.

A bat was such a menacing and disgusting creature.

Anyone who saw it would give him a look that was equal parts apologetic and concerned.

But when Steve started getting left alone at home, when he only had surface level friends, when he cried himself to sleep because the silence wasn’t enough to drown out the negative thoughts, the bat wrapped itself around his neck, and he didn’t feel so alone.

He’d started sleeping with his hand on his shoulder just to feel closer to his soulmate.

Hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t be disappointed that he was theirs.

————-

Eddie convinced himself for his entire childhood that the golden retriever tattoo that ran up and down his arms every day was some sympathy soulmate tattoo.

There was no way his soulmate was someone this hyper.

And then Wayne explained there was usually a story behind the tattoo, something more than just the personality or energy of a person.

At night, the retriever would pace across his chest, eventually settling right over his heart.

He wondered what his tattoo representation was.

He hoped it was a bat.

————-

“Dude, it’s not a big deal. Just show us!” Tommy yelled to Steve from the pool.

Steve had managed to hide it from his friends for so long.

He wasn’t ashamed necessarily, but he definitely didn’t need Tommy and Carol or any of the rest of the basketball team to see it.

The tattoo often stayed hidden pretty well during the day, usually hid on his thigh or stomach. He got away with always wearing shirts for practice and skipped post-practice showers with excuses that he had a study group to get to.

But his pool was a problem, especially now that he was at an age where everyone wanted to come over to swim when his parents weren’t around, which was often.

He tried to make excuses, said he was just worried about the sun, worried about a creepy neighbor watching.

It only worked a couple of times.

Now it was night, so no sun.

The neighbor was on vacation.

And everyone expected him to strip down and get into the pool.

So he did.

Everyone stared in silence as the bat flew from his stomach to his back and settled on his shoulder.

It seemed like it wanted to be seen, but still wasn’t sure how it wanted to be perceived.

Steve could relate.

No one commented on it, probably too afraid that one wrong word would get them kicked out of the pool permanently.

When he went to bed that night, the bat took its place around his neck, his hand rested in its place against his shoulder, and he sighed.

“I hope you’re being seen,” he whispered into his empty room.

——————-

The golden retriever was completely still for more than eight hours the same night Starcourt exploded.

Eddie tried not to panic for the first few hours, knew it could be any number of reasons the tattoo wasn’t moving.

But after hour six, he called Wayne at work, worry carrying over the line as fireworks boomed in the background.

“It’s not moving. It- you said when it stopped it meant- they can’t be, though.”

“Eds, take a few slow breaths, son. C’mon now, you’d have known if he-”

“But what if mine’s broken? What if the connection isn’t right?” Eddie tried taking breaths, but it wasn’t working.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it was that his soulmate was gone.

By the time Wayne made it home from work, the retriever had moved from his forearm to its usual place over his heart, and Eddie was fast asleep on the couch, his hand resting on top of it.

—--------------------

Being dragged into more freaky Upside Down shit was not on Steve’s to-do list. Then again, it never really was.

He wouldn’t have even bothered coming with Dustin and Max if not for the fact that Dustin was terrified something had happened to his new best friend Eddie.

He tried to hide his terrible mood, but knew he was failing.

He woke up this morning to his bat already on his leg, seemingly asleep, though it was normally still around his neck or on his shoulder when he woke up.

It hadn’t moved all morning, and he was a little worried about what that might mean.

He was also getting more worried by the day that he’d never meet his soulmate.

He knew it was dramatic, but most people he went to school with had met theirs by now, their tattoos now permanently placed in matching spots on their bodies.

“Dustin, this is so stupid,” he reiterated for the hundredth time as they walked up to the boathouse door.

He kept thinking it to himself as they poked around looking for Eddie, as he was being held against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck by Eddie, as he felt a flutter in his stomach at the way Eddie was watching him as they told him about the Upside Down.

He didn’t take the time over the next couple of days to pay much attention to his tattoo, didn’t really consider the fact that what little time he slept, he was so out of it he didn’t even notice whether the bat was on his neck or not.

Didn’t think about it until a moment in the RV alone with Eddie, when something in his brain told him to check on the bat.

“Sorry, just. Can you wait one second?” Steve interrupted Eddie’s thought as kindly as he could.

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie responded, confused.

He slipped to the back, not bothering to close the curtain that separated it from the rest of the RV.

He lifted his shirt in hopes of seeing it, but it wasn’t there.

He groaned and unbuttoned his jeans, rushing to just check and see if the bat had moved at all.

He shoved his jeans down and frowned.

It was in the same place still.

On his inner thigh on his right leg.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, or what he thought was under his breath.

“Everything okay?” Eddie’s voice was much closer than he expected, making him jump and rush to pull his pants back up. “Shit, was that your tattoo?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t moved in a while.”

“Neither has mine.” Eddie moved in closer. “Actually, mine’s on my thigh too. Kinda makes it hard to check.”

“Which thigh?” Steve couldn’t help asking.

“Right.”

“What is it?”

“Golden retriever. Can’t really imagine who it would be,” he admitted.

Steve’s first and only pet had been a puppy. A golden retriever named Daisy.

She was his entire world for almost a year until she chewed on one of his dad’s expensive watches and ended up being given to a man who worked with him.

He cried for days after that, didn’t talk to his dad for weeks, not that that was difficult to do since he was gone more often than not.

He vowed that he would get another one the moment he was an adult.

That didn’t quite work out.

But his nannies all used to call him a retriever, his energy contagious in the best way, his playful demeanor a relief. As he grew up, it got dulled by his parents, expectations, society, but he knew inside, all of that was still there.

“What’s yours?” Eddie asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“A bat.”

Eddie tilted his head and looked at him, eyes squinting to take him in.

“A bat?”

“Yeah. He’s a playful guy, but kinda shy it seems like,” Steve’s smile was fond until it was sad. “At least until he stopped moving.”

“When did he stop moving?” Eddie ignored the fact that it was a he for now.

“I guess I noticed it the day we found you in the boathouse.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, possibly coming to similar conclusions.

“What about yours?” Steve asked quietly, though something told Eddie he already knew the answer.

“The day you found me in the boathouse.”

“I-”

“How-”

“Dingus, we gotta go!” Robin was suddenly yelling as the RV door slammed open.

They could figure this out later.

They would have to.

—-----------------------

As Steve sat by Eddie’s bedside in the hospital, he thought about how often the bat tattoo had been the only comfort he had, the only thing that kept him from being completely alone.

He thought about how Eddie had always done his best to include the people who didn’t belong anywhere else, how he’d put on a show to protect himself, but hated being seen.

Wayne watched him from the other side of the bed, silently judging him, probably trying to figure out how to kick him out.

But he couldn’t.

He felt the pull now.

Now that he’d been around Eddie, somewhat gotten to know him, how he was fearless when it came to the gremlins, was willing to give up his own life if it meant getting Dustin to safety, he could feel the tug on his heart.

It was inconvenient since they didn’t know when or really even if Eddie would wake up.

So he waited.

He waited for Wayne to kick him out. He waited for doctors and nurses to have answers. He waited for Eddie to wake up.

He waited to know if he’d be able to have his soulmate or not.

—-------------------

Eddie’s first word when he woke up was Steve’s name.

Steve let out an uncontrollable sob, curling down so his head rested in the sheets of the bed.

Wayne’s hand was on his back, his voice trying to speak to him and Eddie at the same time.

They’d gotten closer over the last few days, Wayne’s calm presence enough to keep Steve from completely losing his mind with worry.

But the pain meds in the IV drip seemed to catch back up to Eddie within minutes and he was asleep again.

“He woke up though. Your boy woke up,” Wayne said to him, holding his hand.

“Yeah. He did.”

—-------------------

When Eddie left the hospital, Steve insisted on pushing his wheelchair to Wayne’s truck himself.

The nurse agreed with little argument; The hospital was incredibly understaffed and overrun with patients from the “earthquake” and she had a million better things to do.

The walk down was mostly quiet, but not awkward.

“I think some of my tattoo is missing,” Eddie finally said, barely more than a whisper.

“From the bats?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Doesn’t change anything.”

“No?” he asked, voice full of hope.

“Not a thing for me.”

—------------------------

They dated.

It was unconventional in every way.

Steve had never pictured himself with a man, but now he couldn’t picture himself with anyone but Eddie.

Eddie had to explain that they couldn’t just go out and hold hands like any of Steve’s other dates, they had to be careful.

It wasn’t always easy; Steve got frustrated and Eddie got insecure.

But they always ended their nights with soft kisses, with whispered words of comfort and promises.

They fell in love like that, the tattoos only the beginning of something that no one could have expected.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #request #soulmate au

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eddies-house · 1 year

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ok I may have just had a slight meltdown over having to drive and order food which has prompted me to think about Eddie comforting you when you start mouthing off about how your brain works. These are just thoughts spewed out so nothing too crazy.

T/W - talks about how being neurodivergent makes you feel alienated

So it’d start with you not being able to process what the person at the speaker in the drive thru was saying. Like they’re asking you questions but your brain is literally lagging behind so hard and you can’t comprehend what’s going on. They’re getting annoyed with you and you just blurt out something in hopes that it’s what you wanted to order in the first place. Pulling up to the window only makes you more anxious since you’re going to have to be face to face with them. The whole experience is just awful and you have trouble speaking up to ask for sauce but do so anyway in the most timid way which makes you want to slap yourself. When they hand you the receipt it nearly flies away and this elicits little “oop!” Noises from you along with a stream of sorries which immediately has you cursing yourself cause why did you react like that? In summary, the entire experience from beginning to end, from driving to the place and driving all the way back home is miserable.

On the drive home you just berate yourself in your head. Why did I react like that? Why does my brain work the way that it does? Why am I not normal? How come I can’t process things like everyone else?

Its literal hell, even the act of driving is a whole commotion in itself. The way you will plan out which streets you take just so you can avoid certain complicated turns that you know will cause you grief. How you’ll make the right turn at certain lights just fine but at others you’ll just about start crying from overstimulation of everything happening around you. All you can describe it as is that your brain lags behind and you think about things differently than the average person. Your thought process is way to complicated but that’s just how it is, you can’t change it.

Fast forward to a little bit later when Eddie comes over and he senses that you’re having an off day more so than usual lately. You look like you’re lost in thought, he swears there are tears in your eyes as you stare off at nothing. You’re just listening to music in your bed with him but he catches the way you’re not relaxing but you’re spiraling. He’d turn off the music and scoot to sit right next to you, thigh against yours. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but not knowing how else to initiate the conversation. Your lip kinda wobbles and at first you try to contain it and tell him you’re fine so you can move on but it fails. A few tears spill over and you quickly wipe them away hoping to recover but Eddie just pulls you into his lap and cradles you to him. “What’s going on, huh?” He says softly into your neck. You sniffle, tightly holding his shirt in your fists.

You decide to just go on a tangent, pulling your face away to look at him, he awaits patiently, eyes gentle and welcoming. “I don’t know why I can’t be normal.” You tell him through blurred vision. “The way I think isn’t normal, it’s so hard to do anything—I don’t—I don’t get it. I don’t know why I HAVE to think so hard about everything and I don’t know why my brain short circuits every time someone in public talks to me.” It breaks his heart that you feel so disconnected from everything. He understands because he relates in his owns ways, having his own behavioral patterns that weren’t necessarily ‘normal’. He knows what it’s like to feel like an outsider in this reality just because your brain is wired differently, something you can’t control.

All he does is lets you voice your frustrations, you were right to have them after all. His hand rests on your shoulder, thumb affectionately grazing up and down while his other hand holds yours. He wants you to know he’s there even if you feel alienated by the world. “A-and the way people look at me sometimes after I say something—l—god I can’t stand it! I know I look like an idiot but they can’t at least pretend to be nice?” There’s a hint of anger behind your eyes which is justified. “I’m so sick of being like this, I feel like I’m broken—like I’m some kind of recall item!” You finish, wiping a glob of snot away from your nose with your sleeve.

Eddie could just scream. Scream at the world for being the way that it is, so unfriendly toward those who might think even the slightest bit differently, their brains being built in a way that didn’t accommodate the norm that was established by some men in suits. He could scream at you that you’re perfect the way you are, that this world needed to change and you didn’t. But he doesn’t scream. Instead he cups your cheeks in his hands and wipes away the rolling tears with his thumbs, quietly speaking but he holds such passion. “You are not broken. You are not a recall item. You are perfect the way that you are even if this fucked up world can’t pull its head out of its ass and understand that you are not like everyone else and that it’s okay not to be like everyone else.” He’s looking at you with his big brown eyes with such love and admiration. “You don’t need to change a thing, do you hear me? I know everyone else may treat you differently, hell they treat me differently too so I understand. But we don’t need to change a thing or prove a thing. I know it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard sometimes because they treat you like you’re below them, like some species that wandered up to them from the wild. But don’t let them take anything away from you. This is how you are and they can eat shit if they don’t like it.” He’s starting to tear up slightly, the subject has always been something he’s advocated for. You can’t help but cry a little more at his words, they really sunk into your heart and it just aches that you even had to feel bad about being you just because people couldn’t comprehend anything different. He continues holding your cheeks in his palms, thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I will always love you for who you are and I know you love me for who I am and I think that’s what matters the most, okay? If some dirtbag makes you feel bad because your reaction isn’t instant or you go blank and maybe say something that doesn’t make complete sense, they aren’t worth your energy. I know it’s easier said than done but just get in and do what you needed to do, let them be shitty people if that’s what they desire, and then leave with a smile. And even if you feel too overwhelmed to leave with a smile, that’s okay too. Just know that they are not some blueprint for what you were supposed to be. You are you and you were made exactly how you were supposed to be.” The tears keep coming but you’re grateful for his insight, he speaks so highly of you even though you feel everything you do is wrong.

You nod, speechless as he pulls you in again, cradling you to his chest. “You aren’t broken, okay baby? Never.” He affirms, you sniffling into his chest. He didn’t give a damn if you used his shirt at a tissue, he just wanted to make you understand that you weren’t some pest to society like you made yourself out to be. “I’ll kick anyone’s ass who wants to yell at you or judge you just because you didn’t react according to their script.” You let out a wet giggle against him, his hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as he holds you tight. “You never have to prove anything to anyone, not even to me, do you understand me?” He’s stern but in a soft kind of way as he pulls back to grip your chin. “Okay.” You whisper with a tear stained face, snot leaking into your mouth. Even then, he thinks you’re so pretty and he would mop up all your snot just to see you happy and feeling safe.

#ohhhh fuck that was a rough one this is so personal #vics thoughts #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson comfort #eddie munson angst

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dreaminghour · 1 year

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Hayden/Ewan RPF - Feeling of doing nothing

Event: @domaystic Fandom: Star Wars RPF Rating: General Audiences Prompt: 30 Feeling of doing nothing Ship: Hayden/Ewan Disclaimer: References to real people are used fictitiously. Do not share this with them! Context: Present day. Ewan is visiting Hayden on his farm. Follows the timeline of my other RPF ficlets, but you don’t necessarily need to read those to understand this. You can find them here on my blog. Words: 892

It takes Ewan several hours to spit out what he's been chewing on. Enough time for Hayden to go out with the farm-hand and set up the new fence post where he should have put one years ago and to smear the cuts on Dolly's skin to keep them from getting infected.

He is quiet through lunch prep, which doesn't much phase Hayden; he's found both the storyteller and the stoic to be good company. It gives him time to turn over his own thoughts…

He hasn't asked why Ewan is here because he more or less knows: marriage trouble or its ilk. He doesn't go for gossip but things come across his screen nonetheless, no matter how much he ignores them.

"Listen, I… " Ewan begins before trailing off almost immediately.

So Hayden listens, to the silence mostly, but at the same time he watches — the slack set of Ewan's jaw, the furrow between his brows, his distant gaze, the beard overdue for a trim.

"I'm really grateful for your hospitality," he continues.

"Of course," Hayden says immediately. "You're always welcome."

"And you haven't asked," Ewan says slowly, "but I suppose you're probably wondering…"

"I mean," Hayden shifts, turning his gaze from the porch to the distant grove of trees. "I know."

Ewan doesn't reply, doesn't turn to look at him, just furrows his brow.

"You told me some of it in Berlin. I expect this is related?" He turns it into a question at the last second.

"My partner," Ewan says, as though gearing himself up for it, and then he stops again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hayden asks.

"What's there to say?" Ewan asks in exasperation.

But then he speaks for hours.

At the end of it, they finished the chores, cleaned up after dinner, and are back on the porch, back with that malted fruit soda instead of beer. Hayden isn't a teetotaller, but he doesn't mind it.

"Our publicists did a damn sight better negotiating our separation than we did." Ewan picks at the label on his bottle. "I'm ashamed to say there was a fair bit of yelling, most of it was me."

He falls back in his chair with a sigh, seeming depleted.

"That's what they called irreconcilable differences. Two times now." He grimaces. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"You're not," Hayden says gently. "Irreconcilable… it's the right word. Sometimes you're in a good relationship, with a good person, but there's just that thing you can't get over. Or several."

Hayden smirks, laughing to himself.

"Speaking from experience?" Ewan asks kindly.

When Hayden looks up, Ewan is looking at him affectionately, but it's a deeply sympathetic look as well. Hayden thinks he sees tears shining in Ewan's eyes.

"When it happens more than once…" Hayden trails off and Ewan lets him keep the silence a moment.

Out in the grass, the evening insects are louder than they've been all day.

"I don't think there's anyone who got me the way Rachel does. And… I flatter myself thinking that I'm good enough to deserve her. I'd do almost anything for her."

He catches himself before he gets lost gathering wool.

"Anyway. Even though I'm pretty sure she's my person, I'm not sure I'm hers. When we're good, we're so good, but it's not enough." He shrugs. "Sometimes that's not enough."

"Do you ever think you should try harder?"

"We do." Hayden snorts. "We did."

"Ah, I'm sorry," Ewan says quietly. "I didn't mean to dredge up your own feelings about separation."

Hayden snorts. "No worries. I spend a lot of time thinking about her, about us…" He hesitates a moment, knowing he's alluded to it but not yet explained… "I'm even writing a book about it."

"About you and Rachel?" Ewan asks, brow furrowing as he looks at Hayden.

"Well, a guy named Mac and his ex-fiancée, Evelyn."

"Do they have a daughter?" Ewan asks, smirking, but its a playful look.

"Yeah, her name is Marie, and she spends the summers with her dad when she's not at school."

"And are they both actors?" Ewan asks.

"No, actually, bit of a Notting Hill situation, Evelyn is a stage actress who came out to do regional theater when she was young, fell in love, but Mac couldn't hack it in the city."

"The city is boring," Ewan says, his expression darkening. "I don't blame him for leaving."

"He goes back occasionally," Hayden says, shrugging. "There's balance, I guess. Ah, well… I don't know if I'll ever send it out. Or if anyone would even publish it."

"I'd like to read it," Ewan says, almost adamant.

Hayden is surprised, but as the shock settles over him, he realizes he shouldn't be. He remembers how quiet Ewan had gotten when he'd found out about Hayden's short stories — also unpublished — in a way that didn't seem like disapproval. Ewan's always been politely curious, not just about Hayden, so this should feel normal to have that interest turned upon him.

It does not feel normal. He thinks of Ewan holding him when he'd been a scared boy away from home, and holding Ewan when he'd been a wreck in Berlin. He thinks of stroking Ewan's hair back from his face when he'd fallen asleep on the couch and it feels… not normal.

"Okay," Hayden says.

#domaystic2023 #2023day30 #dreamy does fic #dreamy does domaystic #star wars rpf #hayden x ewan #ewan x hayden #haywan

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kindestegg · 5 months

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actually. this tangentially brings me to another line of thought ive been toying with , that of the idea that while i agree the overall focus on shipping can make spaces seem hostile to people who want to focus instead on analyzing the themes of a piece of media, the exclusive dichotomy people seem to posit whereas shipping exists excluded from the idea of a deeper analysis is a little bit... baffling, to say the least? after all one could argue to attempt to untangle two characters from a narrative and tease their compatibility is a sort of attempt also at character analysis and involves some understanding of their surroundings in the narrative as well as an attempt to identify things that tie them such as common themes and relationships.

this isnt to say, again, that i dont get the frustration- specially since one could say it feels counterintuitive then to take an incredibly rich narrative setting, pluck two characters from it and make them instead meet at a (now infamous due to being frequented by popular yaoi couples) coffee shop. but i think even then, the frustration at observing someone so willfully misinterpret characters maybe, so defiantly and staunchly refuse to engage with the original setting, also reflects in some way something about the author and the viewer, creating a mutual relation and im sorry to say... a prompt to analysis.

my thoughts on this you could say are similar in a way to my rants on the inescapable nature of art, this being that interpretation is also inescapable. all we do when we interact with the outside world IS interpretation after all. and let me tell you, buddy, your body and specially your brain are doing a loooooot of heavy lifting for you when it comes to that. hey did you know humans cant actually feel wet? its just that we trick ourselves into understanding more or less what it should feel like. thought that was interesting.

i think perhaps a more productive sort of conversation could arise from pointing out just a tiredness in the analysis necessarily happening THROUGH the shipping lens, which in that case, i agree, n its indicative of a bias toward romance and amatonormativity when i think itd be a good exercise to put the fanfiction down for a little bit n listen more intently without needing the aid of fantasy smooching for a few seconds.

#commander's orders

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cellophaine · 2 years

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Maybe some headcanons on a reader who's first language is not English (and didn't necessarily grow up in the US) and Matt? Him being really intrigued the first time he's heard your voice and accent (maybe making a game out of guessing where you're from??), loving it when you call him pet names in your native language (👀), asking you what certain things would be translated, stuff like that? :)

I just think this could be great for both fluff and smut haha

Lovely

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff.

Author's Note: AHH I love this prompt!! I can relate to it sm. Still, I botched it 😭 I'm sorry 🥲

GIF Credit: @/mmurdockz

Matt loves listening to you, your voice, and the sounds you make around him.

Even the slightest noise from you can bring a smile to his face.

He could hear the sneaky steps whenever he pretends to be asleep because you don't want to wake him up.

The little throat clears every now and then.

The rapid taps of your keyboard, followed by a long silence when you try to put your thoughts into words.

The way your voice changes subtly with good or bad news.

He loves how your accent alters some pronunciations when you read to him.

He loves it, even more, when you speak in your first language.

"How do you say 'sweetheart' in your language?"

You explain how there isn't an exact translation for it, but there are terms of endearment that express the same thing. And when you ask why with a touch of amusement in your voice, Matt says.

"I'm just curious. What would you call me, your sweet boyfriend, in your mother's tongue?"

You think for a moment before granting him his wish.

The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly. The consonants in your mouth create something more complicated than what Matt is used to.

You gave him the literal translation of the phrase in English.

Even though he didn't understand the unfamiliar sound, a faint touch of blush drew on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. The thought and sound of you calling him by an endearment term in the language you had known your whole life made his heart flutter.

Matt tries to pronounce the words with your help. He says them repeatedly until the sound loses its meaning in your ears.

He asks you to teach him your favourite pet name.

He never misses a chance to call you by the lovely nickname he insists on using.

He isn't shy to use it, even with an occasional botched attempt in saying it. Whether it's in front of his friends, anywhere at all.

The nickname follows the cup of coffee he makes you, always with a kiss on your cheek, on your forehead.

It's almost as if he wanted to press the term of endearment into you, imprinting it on your skin.

While words can not express just how much he loves you, Matt wants to make sure you can feel the immense love he reserves only for you in the language you have known since birth.

You have a favourite restaurant that you often visit. You love it for the nostalgia of your home, the connections and the friendships you have made here.

Matt loves to see you immerse in the welcoming atmosphere of this place.

He has the most adorable smile just listening to you conversing with the owner, bonding in your language.

It also gave him an idea.

It was a typical night for both of you.

By typical, Matt comes home one night when most people should be asleep. And you're up to tend to his injuries of the night.

You press down on the edge of his gauze, securing it over the wound on his chest. Matt's hand seeks out yours, pressing the palm of your hand directly on his heart.

You can feel it – his heart is beating much faster than usual.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

The concern in your voice laces into the nickname, which is spoken softly right after your apprehension made itself known.

The skin on his neck is slightly flushed; his mouth opens and closes.

You start to panic until the unexpected yet very familiar words make their way to your ears. Your head takes longer to process them as a broad smile spreads across your face.

"I love you."

The pronunciation was a little off, but the intention was evident in the earnestness of his face.

It was in the slight furrow of his brow, the blank eyes that were warm like his embrace, like a kiss on your forehead when you woke up next to him in the morning.

Matt took your silence as an alarming sign. A slight frown appeared at the corners of his lips. A look of worry etched onto his face as he got flustered.

"Did I say it wrong?"

You held onto his hand as you felt him pulling away from you. You brought it to your face, pressing the back of his hand to your cheek, letting him feel your smile.

"No, no. It was … perfect. You caught me off guard, that's all."

Matt exhaled slightly; the tension evaporated a little in his rigid posture.

"I love you, too."

You whispered the love sentiment to him in a way it was always meant to be said. Tender, full of love. And you got to say those words to him in the way you always knew how.

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro.

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr. All credit goes to her!

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

"I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him.

"Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls.

"Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh.

Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there.

"How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly.

Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have.

"Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often.

"Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

"But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

"The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening.

Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham.

From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully.

"Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face.

"Baby monk, ya alright?"

Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her.

"Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell.

When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!"

That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest.

"It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe.

"Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.

Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb.

Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

"I did tell you."

"That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster."

And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

"I'm sorry."

She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

"Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

"How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business.

"Would you like to meet him first?"

A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about.

He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached.

"Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her.

"Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

"Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

"When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

"Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk.

"Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

"Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought.

That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

"You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice.

"Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement.

"I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked.

"I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile.

He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

"No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

"It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

"Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement.

"Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings.

Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared.

"No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be.

"She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face.

"Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

"Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

"I will if I must."

"Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares."

Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

"That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more.

As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

*****

Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes.

During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light.

So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time.

Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane.

Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's.

Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met.

Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step.

On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home.

After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench.

There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step.

*****

"So, what is going on between you and Cedric?"

You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

"You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

"Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it.

Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it.

Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

"Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer.

You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches.

The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else.

Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky.

A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.

"He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence.

Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.

"Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

"Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral.

Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own.

"But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed.

"Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance.

Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

"Your mother will let me in."

"Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later.

Or at least that was what you told yourself.

*****

"What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal.

Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason.

When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer.

"Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him.

"Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

"Yes." You breathed out.

He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now.

"Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

"Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step.

"But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see.

That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

"He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true.

The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes.

"If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies.

As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.

"THANK YA, GOD!!"

The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness.

"Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled.

You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

"Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin.

"Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face.

"Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead."

Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric.

Just how you wanted it.

Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released.

"I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you.

"Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours.

"You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?"

It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry.

#ems100 #mzwrites #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom imagine #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #Sihtric #sihtric imagine #Uhtred #Uhtred of Bebbanburg #osferth #finan #finan the agile

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unpretty · 3 years

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astielle ch 28 spoiler ask dump~~

anonymous asked:

Tauril-form is puberty, because that's when his voice changes. Abysscale-form is college-age because that's when he goes to his first orgy.

anonymous asked:

You called Abysscale-form college-age (which does not preclude teenage sexscapades given the ages that go to college) and that tracks with how I think of Tauril-form as going through puberty (because of the voice-change). But if Tauril is the horny teenager that's kind of sad. Because as Minnow has pointed out many times That Dick Will Kill.

not each other, it won't!! although i imagine taurils sleeping with each other would have the bro-iest vibe. very bill and ted. taurils also have Options with people who aren't giant bull centaurs, it's just awkward is all. fortunately for everyone taurils are actually adults and are not full of hormones, they just have zero impulse control and when they like someone they want to impress them and spend time with them and it doesn't necessarily occur to them to get their dicks involved in the situation (karzarul's mind was elsewhere the first time he was a tauril)

anonymous asked:

When Violet said monsters make the best mercenaries and throw the best parties I didn't think about it, but the fact that all the impyrs came into being with swordsmanship skills equal to Lynette probably had something to do with the former. Even if ten isn't that many, THEY COME BACK. (Eventually. In, like, a month.) And the others probably learned from Lynette, even if they died. Lynette's unintentional teaching, back again.

they learned from the best murdering them repeatedly

anonymous asked:

When Ari is repopulating, and he skips Black Drakonis, he says "Makes sense." But he's surprised when Violet points out that Black Drakonis is missing, so it sounds like he at least had a theory/assumption at the time for why she was skipped, but it doesn't match with the new information.

he initially just assumed that black drakonis had managed to avoid being killed the whole time, which made sense because she's a big dragon and she can just fly away if someone is trying to murder her. but generally if a bigass monster is alive someone is going to see it, especially her, because she likes finding population centers to try to guard.

anonymous asked:

"It also occurred to him that trying to get Minnow to act like she lived in a society since they were young may have negatively impacted his sense of what constituted an acceptable thing to say to a person while his dick was out." Is just HILARIOUS.

anonymous asked:

Honestly I can relate to Leonas cause just last week I was like 'I keep falling asleep in class maybe I should develop a caffeine addiction' and one of my friends was like 'pls eat more food' so I started to actually have breakfast and an after work snack and I magically stopped falling asleep in class

anonymous asked:

Minnow's hips don't lie, but castle ruins are strangely deceptive.

everyone who wasn't following along when astielleblogging intersected with kink taxonomy hell is going to be so confused if/when minnow finally gets stuck somewhere

@9ofspades asked:

Ari is my favorite again and I want him to have actual eternity to be happy with his poly soulmate throuple together. And also his big monster family. Also I think he's wrong about what the core of the Heir and Hero are - both of them have, deep in the core of their souls, the fact that they are Monsterfuckers.

for the record i have a post in my drafts with all of your readalong asks and i still haven't decided what to do with them but i enjoyed them IMMENSELY

anonymous asked:

>looking for food >ask the cook if their food is earthy or wet >she doesn't understand >pull out illustrated diagram explaining what is earthy and what is wet >she laughs and says "it's good food sir" >buy some food >its wet

@ivylaughed asked:

I love the tumblr meme references in Astielle. The guards bringing their own knives; there being an infinite variety of brassica oleracea; the fucking chocolate guy. I'm half-waiting for a children's hospital/color theory reference. Thank you for the easter eggs.

i'm glad someone read 'chocolate birdhouse' and immediately thought THAT FUCKING CHOCOLATE GUY AGAIN ashjasd

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to say that as a plant nerd and forager I deeply appreciated Minnow's surprisingly accurate botany lesson.

unfortunately all the books that leonas gave minnow are still at her house and so she cannot cite sources for the existence of hemlock, queen anne's lace, and giant hogweed

anonymous asked:

“I think you overestimate people’s willingness to admit when things don’t make sense to them," lmao Minnow has a point

will the two men she is with learn from this and start admitting when they don't know things they think they should and are confused? absolutely not.

anonymous asked:

XD Ari hears "Kavid" and immediately attempts a strategic retreat.

anonymous asked:

“‘you should get dressed’ is a complete sentence.” Is making me laugh.

it's probably for the best because if he actually had known all three of them were out there it would have taken him like an hour to get ready and he would have had at least one breakdown about how none of his outfits were good enough and it was all nari's fault

anonymous asked:

Kavid: I will be happy to HAVE YOU ALL *lascivious eyebrow wiggle* at my earliest convenience.

anonymous asked:

"he gets smaller" "in this weather who doesn't?" KITTY PLZZZ

anonymous asked:

I can't decide whether I love or hate Kavid - I have a very Specific idea in mind for his voice, though I admittedly can't figure out where I'm pulling it from. He is an Excellent character though. Lovely chapter as always :D

anonymous asked:

Before, I was entertained by Kavid. Now I love him.

anonymous asked:

Kitty, Kraven and Kavid have similar speech patterns on purpose, right??? Right?????

i was honestly imagining some kind of nonsense faux-european what-country-is-this-even-from hollywood accent but imagining that he has sounded extremely russian this whole time is extremely funny

@rose-and-bones asked:

SHE HAS A TYPE aghfgstjs

minnow having a thing for obnoxiously pretty men who think they're great aka self-recognition through the other (horny)

@speakingintothevoid asked:

“You are,” Leonas said, “an egotistical, self-important fop.” “Ye-e-es,” Kavid said without shame. “She has a type, does Starlight.” I! LOVE!! IT!!! Makes me almost think of Violet and Karzarul - our point of view character being faced with a version of themselves who are more comfortable in their own skin and our boys not knowing why that annoys them

@keleviel asked:

I rescind my earlier mild disdain, Kavid is great. Is he actually The Greatest Of Bards, or is that just more showmanship?

he rocks about as hard as you can rock on a lyre, which is probably harder than you'd think (especially if you brought a lot of drummers) (which he does)

anonymous asked:

Jakshahshsh every time a new astielle chapter comes out i read it at least twice. Kavid i love you. Leonas i love you also you fucked up lil man. And karzarul the seat. And minnow the mischievous. and just. poor nari. existing in the same world as minnow and her all-powerful boyfriends and also kavid. nari needs a raise

she really does

anonymous asked:

Bruce in Office Meeting and Leonas grabbing the wine when Kavid starts talking about Imperials solidarity.

anonymous asked:

"You would like to compare notes?""Always." Brilliant. Leonas to a t. Loving this interlude with kavid. Snuggly tipsy leonas is a treat. kavids talk of how the weather makes all of us smaller had me cackling. Also this batshit imperial conspiracy is gr8

anonymous asked:

I am suddenly much less comfortable about Leonas performing medical experiments on Minnow, though no fault of his own. :(

@mooseman13579 asked:

Leonas finding out about the weird sun empire truther stuff: haha I'm in danger

the real unanswered question is how much of this is news and how much of it is stuff he already knew and assumed was normal

@thegayknee asked:

Holy shit this is it, isnt it. This is how they fix karzarul's reputation and expose Leland. With the power of Kavid

anonymous asked:

Karzarul's Questlog: "Work on our Image" updated, The Tale of Hollow Monsters delivered to bard.

anonymous asked:

just how many of her lovers is minnow going to recruit into her questing party

she should probably be swapping people out to keep their levels consistent but instead she just keeps karzarul and leonas as her companions for every single quest

@flying-butter asked:

"Details! I need details!" "The king sucks." This is every conversation with any of the trio. Minnow likely knows how to complete half of Ari's quests and Leonas the other half, but no one talks about anything without prompting.

minnow just assumes that everyone knows what she knows because she can't possibly be the brains of the operation and meanwhile karzarul and leonas are both busy having shame

anonymous asked:

i was so excited for the lore drop but the moment Leonas sat in Karzarul's lap my brain just shut off

@themaidenisdeath asked:

oh yes, as we all know, "all business" and "taciturn" are the first words that come to mind when we think of Minnow. It reminded me of when she met Karzarul and he told her she was particularly chatty for hero. Sorry Kavid, you're just neither a Sweet, Considerate Monster with a Dick of Steel And Tentacles To Match™ nor a Twink Prince With Silky Hair, Dom Tendencies And Weird Dietary Beliefs™

@halfdeadfriedrice asked:

"what Hero business?" / "I'm the Hero. All my business is Hero business." You tell em Minnow! And then it turns out to be Quest relevant after all; all business is Hero business Also kavid's last night's makeup and messy convertible couch covered in laundry with half-empty wine bottles on the floor is THEE most visually resonant, I feel like I am visiting a college friend

leonas got very lucky that there weren't any cigarette butts floating in that wine because in his mood he might have just drank it anyway

#original #astielleblogging #writeblogging #astielle spoilers

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mysteriesgalplusdamianthings · 3 years

Text

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

#damian wayne #damimaps #gotham academy #dc comics #fanfiction #batman #batfamily #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #maps mizoguchi #damian x maps #smut

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paperpennies · 3 years

Note

Please tell me about your AU idea where Sasha and Milla meet in Brazil as teenagers and basically end up long-distance dating before either of them become Psychonauts ^_^

Oh hey look at that, totally out of nowhere, not prompted by me at all! (@2somethingelseyoumightknow2 and @strawberry-et also asked me about it but it seems redundant to answer three separate asks. I didn’t think three people would actually do it lol. Also sorry for taking 8 years to answer.) This idea came out of just smushing two thoughts together. Then I got weirdly attached. Buckle in; it’s gonna be pretty long. Under a cut to avoid annoying feed scrolling.

So, AU is: Sasha mom lives, meaning he turns out a lot better emotionally adjusted since he grows up with at least one attentive parent. His dad is better too- still pretty emotionally constipated but not, like, broken the way he is in canon. The family also has 4-5 more kids after Sasha. This does mean they’re pretty poor but they do okay.

His mother is a schoolteacher, who is somewhat unusual in the time period for working and being a mom of a big family at the same time. She and Sasha are quite close; he gets a lot of his intellectual and curious side from her. In his eyes, he’s much more like her than like his dad (although people who know them both would say he’s a lot more like his father than he thinks). His mother also knows about his psychic powers, having noticed them as soon as they started showing up, but his dad and siblings (probably) don’t.

The story starts when Sasha is 14-15 years old. He’s getting increasingly bored living in a small rural town with few opportunities related to his interests, and his developing psychic powers (and probable undiagnosed autism) make things even more complicated and difficult for him. His mother gets an opportunity, probably with some kind of charity organization, to go teach German/English and maybe other stuff in Brazil for a while. She decides to take it, and take Sasha with her so he can have some different life experiences. She also takes his youngest sister along, since she’s still very little and dad’s already going to be left alone with three other kids.

(Also, my assumed age for Sasha and Milla in the games is like mid-30s, which, if the games take place in mid/late 80s, would mean they were born in the mid-50s. That means they would be 14-15 in the late 60s. So that’s the timeline I’m going with here.)

So they go to Brazil. The school Sasha’s mom is working at is either at or associated with an orphanage- maybe a church that has a school and an orphanage. Of course, Milla is there. I don’t have a lot of the details locked in here. It’s hard because we know nothing about Milla’s family or life before she was working at the orphanage, so I’m really just pulling this out of nowhere to fit in with this AU. For the purposes of this, she has no family and is living at the orphanage and going to the school there (even though that’s sad and I kinda don’t like it. May change it. Hm.)

Anyway, Sasha’s mom is teaching at the school; Sasha is doing basically independent study. I also haven’t decided if Milla is in his mom’s classes, because I haven’t decided what age group(s) she’s teaching. Either Milla’s in her classes or gets employed (or volunteers) to babysit Sasha’s little sister and that’s how she comes to be around. Oh, and also for the purposes of this, Sasha’s mom already spoke Portuguese before this, and Sasha’s been learning it prior to arriving there, so he’s like conversational at least.

Either way, Sasha and Milla meet. Despite having some initial personality conflict, they find they have a weird connection to each other. Milla is curious about this feeling and interprets it as maybe being a crush, although it feels a little bit different. She decides to try and befriend him to understand it better, and also because that’s just what Milla does. She’s the sort of person who makes people her friends half-against-their-will just by being friendly and caring consistently until they can’t deny that they’re friends.

Sasha, meanwhile, is wary of her and her enthusiasm because he’s not great with the social stuff, especially with the culture and language gaps at play. He’s also wary of the feeling because it seems psychic-related, but he doesn’t know what that means. Plus Milla is like super pretty and nice and he gets tongue-tied and red-faced whenever she talks to him, but he definitely doesn’t like her shut up Mom.

Over time, Milla’s determination prevails, and they become genuine friends. He hides the fact that he’s psychic at first, but eventually does tell her. He asks her if she’s sure she’s not psychic, because she really seems psychic somehow. She doesn’t think she is, but he theorizes she’s probably not quite normal, at least, and that’s where the connection they’ve felt from the beginning comes from.

Since they’re actually perfect for each other, their friendship grows deeper over the months they spend hanging out. By the time Sasha has to leave, they’ve developed real romantic (in a 14-15 year old way) feelings for each other. They don’t ever really talk about it, but promise to write.

And they do. Sasha’s siblings start referring to the girl he writes to as his girlfriend to tease/annoy him, but eventually it sticks. He stops protesting, although he never confirms whether or not it’s true, and it starts being matter-of-fact to them instead of a joke. On Milla’s side, she still talks about him to her friends like he’s still there, and she gets the penpal-boyfriend teasing, too. It doesn’t really bug her, though. They save up money over a few years to go and visit each other, and talk about their relationship enough to be sort of “official”. It’s rough since they rarely get to see each other in person or even talk on the phone, but they keep going.

Years pass, and some things change and others don’t. Sasha mother dies when he’s in his late teens, and he and his dad start having bigger and bigger issues between them in the wake of greiving. He leaves home as soon as he’s sure his younger siblings will be fine without him around. Out and about in the world, he gets recruited into the Psychonauts within the next few years (the specifics of this don’t matter too much for this AU). Milla goes on to work in her orphanage, the thing she’s most passionate about. They still keep close in touch, and get to see each other a more often now that they’re grown up and Sasha has better access to international travel. They finally decide “okay yes, we really are actually dating” even though it’s still long distance. Sasha’s colleagues 100% do not believe his story about having a beautiful long-distance girlfriend in Brazil, because that would sound fake af even if wasn’t coming from the very serious, not-romantic-at-all Sasha. Even his picture of them together does not convince them.

Then, the thing happens. Milla’s orphanage burns down, and her psychic powers finally fully awaken. Because of her knowledge of psychics, she realizes what’s happening, but it’s still a horrifically traumatic event. Sasha takes a leave period to come and help her, finds that it’s even more serious than he’d expected, and puts her in touch with the Psychonauts directly for some better assistance. He’s too close to her to do more than an initial check-up himself.

They find Milla has a lot of potential and extend an offer to join the intern program (which at that time spans a larger age range than later on). She rejects the offer at first, tries to go back to her life, but later decides she needs to make a complete change and accepts. Sasha’s colleagues are shocked to find out she is indeed real. She graduates first out of her class, as one of the best levitators the organization has ever seen. Technically, she and Sasha aren’t supposed to be romantically involved as agents, but the Psychonauts have always been pretty loosey-goosey about that rule (given the history of its founders).

So that was a novel in length. It’s not necessarily that interesting in this form, but there’s the AU. I think the interest would be the specifics of how their relationship would play out as a story, if they met young enough and under the right circumstances to not to get stuck in the hang-ups their relationship has in canon. If you read this far, tell me what you think! Thoughts, feelings, emotional outbursts?

#SashaMilla #Sasha Nein #Milla Vodello #AU #Psychonauts #It's not as super different as like the vampire one people have going but I think there's interesting things to explore there #I wanna do some art for it but I wanna do art for a lot of things #so it may not happen

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Kahmunrah

(My gif)(Requested by @arianatheangelworld )

(I changed the movie plot a bit to fit the meeting portion of this but I doubt that that will upset you. And the meeting story is a bit long but that’s because there’s dialogue in it, sorry!)

- You were working at the Museum of natural history as an archivist when your old friend Larry came along and convinced you to accompany him to Washington.

- Though it took a bit of convincing, you ended up agreeing and soon found yourself standing next to the old night guard as Kahmunrah and his guards awakened.

- Contrary to your companion, you at least pretended to be intrigued by the Ancient Egyptians awakening …which drew his attention to you. He continued to glance over at you as he spoke, up until Larry stole his attention away with his defiant behavior and Rubik’s cube scheme.

- Speaking of the Rubik’s cube, it didn’t necessarily go as …perfectly as Larry had initially hoped. When the octopus went about snatching up and swiping people away, you were left in its grasp as Larry managed to escape with the tablet.

- So, you were taken prisoner by the bloodthirsty Egyptian …though he wasn’t exactly ...good at it.

- Initially, he tries to act like the typical seductive yet evil villain but his voice, paired with him messing up his words and the stumble that occurred as he tried to attractively lean on something near you, made his attempts quite unsuccessful.

- As you defy him more and more, he pulls the whole “you are so lucky that I don’t kill you” act; though he isn’t particularly convincing. You know very well that he was once a ruthless killer, and that he could still very well be one, but it’s obvious that he can’t bring himself to even hurt you, let alone kill you.

- To test your theory, you attempt to provoke him, and what does he do? Gives you more threats, more warnings, more scoffs. It’s honestly somewhat ...cute; watching him act all tough. Endearing in a way.

- That being said: you aren’t completely cruel, so you give it up and let him believe he’s won. Once you stop that, it only takes a few minutes for you to grow bored; you are just sitting there tied up, so you let out a quiet huff and turn to him.

“You know …I know a lot about your brother; it’s kind of my job, but I don’t think he has nearly as interesting of a story as you must have. I mean, sure he was pharaoh for a few years but it was so short lived. And getting everything he wanted …what's so interesting about that?” You apologized to Ahkmenrah in your head as you spoke.

“I mean there’s no trials or tribulations, no drama, no nothing. Just perfection in the most shallow degree.... I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to hear more about you.” You prompted and he eyed you somewhat suspiciously.

“You would?” He asked a bit guarded and you nodded. “About what exactly?”

“Ohh about anything,” you replied. “You must have been quite the fighter. You look like you were.”

- There it is. He sent you a pleased, prideful smile as he launched into tales of his combat achievements. After he was finished with that, he moved from subject to subject eagerly. It was then that it dawned on you that you were probably the first person to genuinely show interest in him and you found yourself feeling somewhat sympathetic.

“It’s a shame we’re in this situation. I would have liked to get to know you more.” You’d said somewhat offhandedly as he finished telling one of his stories.

- He froze for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he managed an attempt at speaking. “Well I …I mean. Well who says we couldn’t? I’ll be ruler of the world after all.” He went off on a bit of a tangent related to said idea before he looked over at you. "Wouldn’t you say?”

- Before you could respond, in came Jedidiah and soon enough Larry arrived too, instigating the whole hour glass situation and leaving you at a bit of a crossroads as to how you truly felt about the bloodthirsty Kahmunrah.

“The world isn’t as great as you think it is,” you blurted out as you waited for Larry to find the code to the tablet. “Really, I mean sure it can be pretty and power is alluring but …it’s also polluted and it’s violent and there’s the whole heat death of the universe or the nuclear warfare thing.”

“It’s not like the world you lived in. I mean it’s home for me but, with all due respect, I don’t think you really know what you’re asking for. Plus, you’re gonna be frozen again in a few hours and then you’ll be transported to my museum in a few weeks.” Shit. Shit. You probably weren’t supposed to mention that or at least shouldn’t have. Larry didn’t even know, hardly anyone really knew about the renovations.

“What did you say?”

“What?”

“What did you say just then.”

“About the heat death of the universe?! Yeah there’s this whole, we’re-” He interrupted you.

“No, not that! You said I was being transported to your museum!” He exclaimed and you sighed.

- With no other choice, you began to explain everything that you knew. He went silent for a moment, sitting in his “throne” and thinking about what you’d said.

“Would you like me to be there... at your museum?” He asked finally, attempting to appear nonchalant.

“...yes. I think I’d like that very much.” You answered and he tried his best to hide his pleasure in your reply.

- Before you knew it, he’d called his men to retrieve Larry, and soon enough, he was explaining to the man that it had “come to his attention” that they’d be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future and that he had “changed his mind about things”. Larry eyed him; and you, suspiciously before accepting his words, standing there awkwardly as the Egyptian smiled and clasped his hands pleasantly.

- So yeah, soon enough Kahmunrah was at your museum and since he’d; you know, tried to take over the world and apparently may or may not have killed his younger brother, he wasn’t too popular. And though you’d initially played up your intrigue for the man, you couldn’t deny that you did; in fact, like him and found him particularly attractive.

- Due to your interest in and acceptance of him, he spent most of his waking hours with you.

- It isn’t long before the two of you get together, he’s quite fond of you and is used to taking; or at least getting, what he wants at the exact moment he wants it. So, he tries his hand at a bit of flirting before finally making his first move.

- You’re in your office with him when it happens. He looks over at you and just blurts out that he’d like for you to be his queen, effectively stopping your hand as you were writing.

- Obviously, you were a bit taken aback so you looked up at him with wide eyes, watching as he tried his best to hide his nervousness; though the glancing away from you and clearing of his throat gave it away.

- You replied that you’d “like that”, causing him to look over at you with a smile. Before you knew it, he’d leaned forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.

“Wonderful!”

- And thus, you officially made the bloodthirsty Pharaoh fall in love with you.

- I’m convinced that Kahmunrah desperately wanted to find a wife in his day, thinking that it would give him everything that his parents never did: love, affection, favoritism, etc. So, now that he has you, he yearns for your touch and attention more than anything else in the world.

- He’s constantly trying to hold and keep his hands on you. He lives to be affectionate with you and show everyone that you’re his.

- He likes to keep his hand on the small of your back, holding you at his side and leading you as you walk.

- Hugs from behind and/or his hands on your upper arms, pulling you back to press against his chest.

- Whenever you’re with him, he wants to have your full attention and dedicates himself to obtaining it when he doesn't. He likes when you come to see him on your own accord, rather than him calling for or visiting you himself.

- Top of the head and temple kisses.

- Somewhat rough, passionate kisses. He tries to convey all the emotion that he has inside of him into said kiss and you can most certainly feel it whenever he does.

- Domineering kisses. He likes holding the back of your head or pulling you into his body abruptly, his lips searing against your own.

- Soft pecks and kisses when he’s in a softer, happier mood, or when he’s dejected and you’re trying to cheer him up.

- Lot’s of pet names; they show everyone in your general vicinity just how much he cares for you. He’ll call you things like “my queen”, “my jewel”, darling, honey, etc. Larry wasn’t sure how to respond when he first heard one.

- He likes when you cuddle into him, usually wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest while he wraps his arms around you. That being said: he secretly likes being the one to cuddle into you.

- Bridal carrying.

- Sitting on his lap or standing by his side, holding his hand as he gazes up at you lovingly while the two of you speak.

- He’s definitely attempted to seduce you in that smoldering “striking a pose in front of a roaring fire” type of way but all it managed to do was make you laugh before you tried to assure him that “No, no, you are sexy. It’s just cliché. Please Kah, I’m sorry, really”.

- He enjoys telling you stories though you try to steer away from his family life and focus on superstition or his more happier memories; knowing that you’ll just send him into a mood if his brother comes up in conversation.

- Him trying to impress you, whether it be with tales of his achievements or his efforts to “be good”. He lives off of your praise and craves it like nothing else; particularly because he didn’t receive much of it in his life.

- Not many people give him the time of day or attempt to be nice and; at least, pretend to be somewhat amused/amazed by him; Larry in particular, so he appreciates that you do; even if he knows you’re at least somewhat faking it.

- Speaking of him trying to impress you: there was this one time; possibly before you even started dating, that he just so happened to notice you looking at his arms and a lightbulb went off in his head as he realize that oh, that’s something that I can get her with.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“ You’re staring at my arms. Why,” he gasps and grins. “You like them!”

“ What are you talking about?” You reply a bit nervously.

“Youuu’re attracted to them!” He accuses confidently and you scoff; though a moment later you’re glancing back as he crosses them in front of his chest. “You are! Look, you’re looking again!”

- He wants to spoil you so badly. He may just find a way to do so....

- Occasionally, he tries to be harsh with you but he just can’t follow through. You’re like the only person who’s nice to him so he wants to see you happy; even if he’s sort of mean at first. He always ends up doing what you asked in the end, usually pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about while enjoying the kiss on the forehead that you give him for it.

- He thinks you’re adorable and he expresses it quite a lot. He may or may not baby you every now and again for this exact reason.

- Watching him fondly as he fiddles with things and acts like a goof.

- If you haven’t noticed it yet, he’s quite dorky and cute when it really comes down to it. It’s fun to sit and watch him gush about something or just be himself.

- Sneaking him out of the museum for a little while. He convinced you to go to the opera with him at least once.

- He thinks your apartment is adorable; a bit unintentionally condescending in retrospect but he did live in palace, and he likes to snoop around your stuff.

- He likes your gifts to him. In comparison to his upbringing, they’re quite quaint but the intention behind them makes him far happier to receive said gifts rather than a box of diamonds.

- Always having his guards at hand no matter where the two of you go.

- Letting him rant about his brother. You think Ahkmenrah is a darling but you hold your tongue and seek to understand where he’s coming from.

- Trying to bridge the gap between the two siblings. According to an earlier version of the script, Kahmunrah was the one who killed his brother, though regardless of this, there is going to be some tension between them that must be resolved.

- Telling him about the new world, he’s both greatly knowledgeable yet clueless at the same time.

- Letting him talk to you about all that he’d hoped to achieve: the power he’d wanted, the throne, the statues, …you after the minute he saw you.

- Getting a rather exaggerated introduction to people. He makes you sound far more important than you really are.

- Getting looked at for backup in situations like the “tunic incident”.

- Calming him down when someone or something angers him.

- He wants what he wants at the exact moment he wants it so he’s arguably a bit impatient; even with you at times.

- Letting him “whine” to you and comforting him when things don’t go as planned.

- Assuring him that he is, in fact, big and scary and powerful.

- He’s a little miffed that he can’t speak to your parents when they call. He wants to introduce himself, make a good first impression and make it known that you’d found yourself a wonderful and impressive future husband! They can get used to the fact that he’s a dead Pharaoh, can’t they?

- He’s an incredibly jealous individual though I’m sure you were able to gather that for yourself. He isn’t even subtle about it, immediately calling you away from the person or scaring them off himself. He’ll at least attempt to deny that it was because he was jealous but you’re both fully aware that that isn’t true.

- You’re his “precious jewel” and he’s going to do all that he can to ensure your safety. He’ll threaten death on all who upset you and kill all who hurt you. He isn’t risking losing you, he just isn’t.

- The two of you bicker more than you genuinely fight, sending each other little glares before one of you finally concedes. Other times, he’ll raise his voice and make threats though he isn’t frightening and fails miserably at being harsh with you.

- He thinks you’re cute when you’re angry most of the time, which probably causes you to give him the silent treatment. He’ll apologize quickly if you’re really upset with him or fondly yet reluctantly on occasion; if you look particularly adorable with your brows all furrowed.

- He tells you that he loves you quite often; especially if you’re alone. Its very important to him that you know he does, considering how often he felt unloved as a child.

- Quite obviously, your future is a bit difficult to anticipate but he isn’t going to let you go without a fight.

#Kahmunrah imagine #kahmunrah headcanon #kahmunrah imagines #kahmunrah headcanons #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum headcanon #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum headcanons #battle at the smithsonian imagines #battle at the smithsonian imagine #battle at the smithsonian headcanons #battle at the smithsonian headcanon

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

THE FORGOTTEN DAY. - AKAASHI, DAICHI, KUROO, ATSUMU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝Hey Nikki its me again lmao 😂. Could you do one where they actually completely forget your birthday? With Akaashi, daichi, kuroo, and atsumu? Make it angst please🥺❞

A.N: ❝dear reader,

thank you so much for trusting me once more with your request! i always love writing the requests even more so than my own prompts. i sincerely hope you’ll like these hc’s, i tried to make these as angsty as i could but atsumu has two braincells and i could NOT resist the temptation of doing something more lighthearted, i hope you won’t be mad at me! mwah! enjoy your promised letter!

sincerely yours, nikki❞

Genre: Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Cursing, crying.

Now, Akaashi is not one to forget about dates and birthdays. I’m pretty sure he has a notebook filled with everyone’s birthdays written in a chronological order. Needless to say, he’s someone who is extremely organized.

He is the kind of boyfriend to remember all the slightest details you mention when you guys have a conversation. We’re talking about small details, pieces of informations that others wouldn’t necessarily pick up on except if your name is Akaashi Keiji. (I.E: he knows that Bokuto-san classifies his underwear according to each day of the week.)

The week leading up to your birthday, he makes sure to leave several notes stuck on your notebooks, laptop, mug, even your jacket to let you know how loved you are and how exceptional of a human being you are.

Unfortunately for you, your birthday has the misfortune of being set right during the revision week leading to the final exams. The latter are extremely important to Akaashi because missing his exams would result in him not being able to go to inter-school volleyball training held during the weekend.

Even though he’s in a relationship, he can be quite distant when something is bothering him because he refuses categorically to drown you with his problems, revisions being one of them. He’s so driven to study hard (although he’s already an excellent student), that everything else appears as a blur to him- he breathes revisions, eats revisions, lives for revisions.

The latter causes him to inevitably forget about your birthday. At first, you just think he’s playing along with you and he has this huge and sweet surprise in store for you which might explain why he hasn’t left you any love notes or sent you any texts, or even avoid you at school.

The evening of your birthday, you crash down at his place, a bit perplexed at his antics. But, unconsciously, you were still in denial, you knew or at least hoped that he was just purposefully acting as such because he wanted to surprise you for your birthday.

When he opens the door and sees you, he has a quizzical look on his face “Um, hello, Y/N? May I ask what you’re doing here, dove?”

Now, it was your turn to have a quizzical look on your face, “So you really don’t know? Isn’t it, you know, a special day?”

His mind is so coated by his obsession to study hard that nothing comes to his mind, nothing to answer to your interrogation and eventually, nothing to leave his mouth as a response. He could swear there’s something he has forgotten, it’s somehow on the tip of his tongue but no sound is echoed on his part.

“You know what, Akaashi, just don’t make promises you can’t keep. I hope these notes you left me will help you.”

First of all, you called him Akaashi instead of Keiji, meaning that there was something terribly wrong with him or his deeds.

Second of all, he looked carefully enough, there were pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes.

Third of all, he was so taken aback, as if all his memory had resurfaced in the blink of an eye that he still couldn’t find the strength to say something. Instead, his eyes wandered on your figure, his back facing you, already on your way home. The sole reflex he had was to raise his hand in your direction, as if he could catch your silhouette already long gone, hopelessly.

Daichi is already the (unofficial) dad of troublesome children (thank the heavens for mama Sugawara and uncle Asahi), which means not only he has to juggle between his duty as a captain and as a student, but he also must make sure of the stability of your relationship.

It’s really taking a toll on him. Seeing him come home late after late night practice is not even surprising anymore, he just comes to your place and crashes down for the night at unbelievable hours- sometimes ten, sometimes eleven.

His role of captain is so dear to his heart and he’s kind of an all or nothing kind of guy. But when it comes to the volleyball team, he pours every once of passion, patience and energy he has to offer. He knows that the first years have literally gifts when it comes to playing and he wants to exploit their potential at the fullest.

Nonetheless, when it comes to remembering dates, Daichi (being an unofficial dad) has the tendency to remember rather quickly common dates like birthdays, if not, he can always count on Suga to remind him in case he gets too hotheaded into what he’s doing.

On the day of your birthday, he sent you a myriad of texts, mini-novels if you will. All of them were the testimonies of the love he held in your regard, he was so thoughtful, each one of his word was carefully chosen to make you feel like the most loved person on the planet.

Starting the day off with a series of loving texts from your boyfriend is indeed the best way to wake up.

However, after close inspection, the last text he had sent you mentioned a date tonight at your favorite restaurant in town because, and I quote, “you deserve to be treated like the royalty you are.”

Focusing in class was almost impossible, the only thing occupying your mind was tonight’s date with Daichi, just the two of you on your birthday. And truth be told, there was no other way you’d rather spend this ever so special day.

Right after the bell rang, you made a beeline to your place to get ready as Daichi told you he would pick you up at 7, right after practice. Your heart was bursting with joy and impatience, a sweet mix of emotions which made you feel overwhelmed by love.

It was 7 already and your eyes were stuck on the alley of your house, waiting to see Daichi’s car arrive and admire the beautiful, lovestruck grin plastered upon his face.

Then it was 8, and suspicions started to arise in your mind. Your head was clouded by interrogations : “Does he not love me anymore?”, “Is this is way of telling me we should break up?”

Then 9, then 10 and eventually 11.

You waited four hours to hear a sign from Daichi, and you couldn’t keep up with the countless texts you had sent him, wondering where he was. But, you still had hope. Heart-crushing hope that is, or maybe you were just stuck in pure denial.

You were sitting on a chair, several stains of tears on your cheeks already, facing the window which offered a view outside your house because “You never know, he might show up...”

At 11, your phone rang and Daichi’s number highlighted the screen. You were so quick to pick up the phone, your quickness was almost inhuman.

“Baby? Hi, it’s me. Are you still awake?” You hummed in response, scared of the way your voice would break if you were to talk. “Listen, practice-...”, you cut him off : “Practice ran late again, I know, Daichi.”

There was a moment of silence on his end of the line, a moment of guilt.

“Baby, you have no idea how sorry I am. It’s just the team and the firs-...” - “I know, the gifted first years.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“We can reschedule tomorrow if you want, I’ll ask Ennoshita to take care of the training for me.” He sounded desperate, eaten alive by the guilt consuming him and the fragile tone of your voice, you sounded like a broken record.

“Tomorrow won’t be my birthday anymore, Daichi, you know that.” You knew that if you were to hear the sound of his voice again, you were bound to break in tears, and as much as he hurt you, you knew it wasn’t his fault and you didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty than he already was feeling.

Instead, you hung up while he was still rambling about confused apologies and you headed straight to your room, head low, fresh tears crashing on the stains left by the dried tears. Like an eternal circle, if you will.

Kuroo is someone who is extremely observant by nature, just look at the way he behaves around Kenma- he doesn’t need for you to talk to know how you’re feeling and can directly dissect what’s wrong with you.

So when he finds himself having a one-sided discussion with you, (or a double-sided conversation if you deem silence as a worthy response), his brain automatically goes on retrospection mode and he’s trying to reminisce absolutely everything that happened during the last 48 hours.

The science-related puns don’t work, the teasing is a crushing defeat, all his best aces fail to put a smile on your face or make you crack a laugh. You’re still silent, or if he’s lucky enough, he can hear the faint sound of hum leaving your lips.

His last option is to ask Kenma because Kenma appears as an omniscient point of view in your relationship. And although he’s not directly involved in your couple, he always seems to find the responses to the riddles left by the cons of being in a relationship.

Kuroo and Kenma are having lunch outside, as expected of the blonde individual, his eyes are solely focused on the device held between his hands, but Kuroo is used to it.

“Man, I just don’t get why Y/N is giving me the cold shoulder, it’s really weighing on my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t know, or do you act as if you don’t know?”

“Ha? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was Y/N’s birthday, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh... Oh! It’s time to panic, it’s time to leave his brain on overdrive and find a solution to make up for what he judged an inexcusable behavior.

What broke his heart even more is when he imagined to put himself into your shoes, how heartbroken you must have felt, how alone you must have felt, he even wondered if you wanted to break up with him.

Sure, Kuroo was observant, but sometimes being a airhead got the best of him. Or perhaps in this case, the worse of him.

He froze, his mouth was set agape and kind of like Akaashi, in moments of panic, he didn’t know what to do. He felt defeatist, he knew that forgetting your birthday was a dealbreaker. He already thought of all the consequences of his actions, and he knew that none of these consequences would turn out good in any way.

He ran through the hallways like a madman, yelling to the other students to step aside as he did so. He knew where you were, and he felt so stupid for knowing your timetable off by heart but not being able to remember such a simple date as your birthday.

You were having lunch in class with your friends, and when a hint of a roster’s head peaked through the door, making hand gestures to silently tell you to come see him, you excused yourself and left the class under the puzzling looks of your friends.

To say that Kuroo was sweating was an understatement, he was absolutely shaking to death and he exuded guilt by every pore of his body. Your gaze landed on his face, and your expression seemed lifeless- where did the usual gleam in your eyes go? The shine in your eyes he loved so much?

“You’re free to insult me for the rest of my days on this planet. I know I messed up, I messed up so bad and I don’t even know how to-... Hey? Oi, Y/N, please, please don’t cry.”

If he needed yet another reason to feel guilty, that was his cue. The tears falling in cascade on your face, the scarlet tones of your eyes, everything about you screamed pure sadness.

Both of your hearts broke in unison, and the motion of his hands to capture you and hold him close to his chest was so experimental, as if he’d never held you in his arms in his entire life.

“Why did you forget, Tetsu?”

“I swear on my life that it was unintentional. I know you won’t forgive me anytime soon and, kitten, you have every right to do so. I know it’s not an excuse but just believe me when I say that it was unintentional. I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”

“Just wish me a happy birthday instead of rambling.”

“Happy birthday, kitten, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

As the manager of the volleyball team, you were Inarizaki’s pride and joy. You were a literal ray of sunshine, the embodiment of a gem and you were always cherished by the entire team for helping them so much.

You always made sure they drank enough, prepped several towels in case they sweated too much (they always did), listened to their problems, eased their doubts- you were undeniably perfect to them.

So perfect that Osamu, as well as the rest of the team, always wondered how and why you ended up with his airhead of a twin, or rather, and I quote, “The useless piss-haired twin.”

To be frank, if it wasn’t for you, Atsumu would probably be dead by now. The cause of his death? Osamu himself? The whole team? His stupidity? We shall never know.

You cannot expect Atsumu to remember any specific dates, he even struggles to remember his own birthday which results in him asking when was his brother born and Osamu letting out a desperate sigh, wondering what on Earth did he do in his previous life to deserve such a twin.

Nonetheless, Osamu’s cooking skills came in handy. The whole team had agreed on celebrating your birthday, a kind of surprise birthday after practice if you will, because you were so good to them.

The divine smell of the cake didn’t go unsmelled (please help is that even a word?? no it’s not but i couldn’t say ‘go unseen’ because a smell can’t be seen like???) by none other than Atsumu himself. “Whatcha’ baking this for?” Osamu didn’t even bother to throw a glance in his twin brother’s direction “You should know, idiot.”

Safe to say that Atsumu got absolutely z e r o information from his brother whatsoever and was thus left in general incomprehension. He then figured that maybe it was someone’s birthday given how well looking the cake was, but whose birthday was it? Once again, z e r o idea.

After practice, the whole team gathered to show you the surprise they had in store for you- Kita had stuck some ‘happy birthday’ posters on the wall, Osamu had brought the cake and Aran had the gift from the whole team in his hands. The preparation was quick and efficient, all while you were changing in your more regular outfit in the locker room.

Needless to say, Atsumu still had z e r o clue to whose birthday they were going to celebrate but the grin on his face still testified of how happy he was.

When you exited the locker room to say goodbye to the rest of the team, you were absolutely overwhelmed by joy when you saw them gathered together, a radiant smile plastered upon their face, they were so proud of themselves and most of all, they were proud to be the reason of your happiness.

Reflex kicked, both of your hands covered your mouth and your vision quickly became blurry from the pearls of tears gathering at the brim of your eyes. To say that you were happy was an understatement, you felt so moved, so touched that this whole surprise was for your birthd-

“Hold up, I thought it was mom’s birthday? Who’s the cake for?”

The look on Osamu’s face screamed “Someone hold me back before I kill this idiot with my bare hands.”

Kita threw a volleyball at the back of Atsumu’s head.

Suna was crying on the inside out of desperation.

Hitoshi was holding Osamu back.

The rest of the team eventually ganged up on Atsumu for even daring to forget their sweet angel’s birthday while you were standing there, dumbfounded to say the least, torn between crying and laughing.

You didn’t even need to make Atsumu pay for his mistake, the team had made sure to make him pay for the next ten years (if I’m being generous.)

So... Happy birthday... I guess?

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nite-shay · 3 years

Text

His Hero Part 4 (Kirishima Eijirou x Reader)

A/N: I don’t know if I’m completely happy about this chapter. I’m trying to get better with witting panic/anxiety/non-humor, so hopefully, next time, it’ll be a little better. Also, sorry for the long time off and just sporadic posting. Works been hell, but now that we’ll hopefully *grain of salt* were getting more people hired, I’ll have more motivation and time to write

Warnings: Panic/anxiety , references to sex and/or sexual acts (nothing descriptive but suggestive) so I guess 18+? IDK how this works :/ If yer too young, offended by sex , sexual acts, sexual reference or don’t know where babies come from, please don’t read.

Word count: 3K

Other then that, please enjoy! :D

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

*****

Kirishima didn’t protest when Fat sent him home for the day.

‘Go home. Clear your head. Call me if you need anything.’

Honestly, he barely heard his mentor’s words. He just sat there staring at the screen. Watching, pausing, rewinding, and watching again. Over and over again. It wasn’t until Fat picked him up and carried him to the door, did he finally get the memo.

Yeah... he didn’t need to be here right now...

The trip home was nothing but a blur, and honestly, he remembered nothing about it. His body was on autopilot as his mind tried to wrap the possibility that he might have a kid.

A kid… A son… Your son… His son? But… How? Err… Wait!

Ok, he knows the ‘how’ of how kids are made.

Better phrasing, how could this have happened!? He was always careful with anyone he was with! Err, not that was a really long list or anything. Typically, he was only intimate with someone he’s known for a while, and when he was, he’d use a condom, or they were on the pill.

Oh fuck. How could he have let this happen!?!?

Calm down. Calm down.

Maybe he was just overthinking everything? It could just be a coincidence. Sure, he and the kid have some similarity, but hey, there’s like, billions of people on the planet! So some are bound to look alike! That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re related, right? Total chance! That’s it! It’s that stuff we learned in school. Static? No, that’s not right; that was in science. The other thing was in math...Statistics! Yeah, that’s it!

So what if the kid has red eyes? His best bud Katsuki does too!

The sharp teeth? Look no further than his gym bro Tetsu! Hell, depending on the quirk, it can be a super common trait!

The quirk being exactly like his... well, ok, that was… odd. And yeah, he hasn’t run into any with his quirk specifically, but, big but, it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there with his quirk!

Or maybe it’s not his quirk! Maybe its a similar one! Really, really, reeeealllly similar.

Total coincidence! Anyone can have those traits!

He just… happens to have all of them… just like the kid… whose mother he just happened to have slept with… around six years ago…

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. The air got thinner, making it harder for him to breathe. He jumped off the couch and started pacing. He’s had issues with anxiety for years, and one thing he did learn, when he got like this, he needed to move.

Breath and walk. Breath and walk. Breath and….wait! The kid can’t be more than five! He slept with you six years ago! Ha! The time doesn’t match up! So he can’t be his kid!

His legs felt like jello as the waves of panic finally came to a halt, and took a deep, much-needed deep breath.

He wasn’t a father.

This was a good thing. A great thing!

He doesn’t have a kid. The time frame didn’t add up. He was in the clear.

He should feel happy. Relief. Ecstatic!

So why did he feel like he just got punched in the gut?

He sighed as he made his way to his fridge in search of something to calm his nerves. Beer isn’t his typical drink of choice, but he was glad he kept a few on hand in moments like this. Since he was single and didn’t have a roommate, his place was the place of choice for ‘bro’s night.’

Though sometimes, there was nothing like a cold one to just chill after a long hard day.

He grabbed one of the glass bottles by the neck, activated his quirk, and flicked the lid off with his thumb. Cool little party trick he learned a few years back.

As he tilted the drink back, he took a long hard swallow and let his mind wander. The beer of choice today was one Katsuki preferred. It was good, smooth going down, and less alcohol content. Which was fine. Ochaco, even after giving birth, still couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol. Pregnancy wasn’t a subject Kirishima knew a lot about, but he knew enough to respect it.

He’d seen her hauling ass many adays to the toilet of the slightest whiff of something she didn’t like.

Then the cravings came along, which prompted a few late-night trips to the store by Katsuki or himself if his bro was at work.

He chuckled as he thought about the few times Katsuki had said something to piss her off and sent him over to the redhead’s place for the night. Only to call him back a little while later in tears because of mood swings.

Towards the end was rough, though. She’d been put on bed rest and was in a lot of pain. Katsuki took fewer shifts during that time to stay home and help ease her in any way he could.

Damn, she went through all that for, what almost a year? Maybe not quite a year, but it had to be close.

Was it nine or maybe ten months?

His brain came to a screeching halt, mid-swallow as he started calculating.

Beer spewed out of his mouth and nose as he tried to breathe and swallow at the same time.

The nine months adds almost a year! *Cough* Meaning the kid’s age would make sense! *Cough Cough*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It can’t be true, can it? He… He’d used protection… hadn’t he?

His mind raced as he thought back to that night six years ago.

It was Izuku’s birthday and his girlfriend, future wife Melissa, rented out a small private Terence at a hotel to celebrate. It was small, maybe fifteen people max: just some friends, family, and a few colleges of the green-haired hero.

He was having a few drinks while chatting with Denki and Hanta when he first saw you. That was when he first saw you… You were chatting with your Melissa and Izuku, and damn… he couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and the way you tried to hide your angelic smile every time you laughed made his heart skip a beat.

Eventually, his two friends figured out just what or who had caught his attention. Which brought on a relentless amount of teasing. It took about twenty minutes, a few beers, and an angry blonde for him to finally make his way over to you.

Katsuki, at some point, approached his childhood friend, then proceeded to yell at him for some reason or another. Even on his birthday, the guy couldn’t catch a break. Now that he thought about it, it was over something All Might related. Something about a suit and which version was from what era? You were looking rather uncomfortable (Melissa was used to this) at the aggressive (mainly Katsuki) debate. That’s where he came in. With the help of Ochaco and Melissa, he finally got the two distracted enough to send them to opposite corners of the party.

And then, he was left all alone with you.

He was so nervous that he even stumbled through his own name. Luckily, he played off his nervousness by making light of his two friends. To his surprise, you took his jokes in stride and even had a few comebacks of your own.

The two of you must have talked for over an hour! Just one conversation after another. He’d never met anyone like you before. You were just so loving, kind, and just… wow!

Then things start to get a little fuzzy.

He remembered talking, drinking, joking, more talking, and more drinking.

A weird memory of a drunk Denki yelling, “I swear to drunk I’m not God!” before face planting into the punch bowl.

Then while everyone’s attention was on Denki, the two of you snuck away and back to his room.

A makeout session on the elevator leads to the two of you missing his floor and shocking an elderly housekeeping lady. That was embarrassing but didn’t seem to stop the two of you.

Then things get really, really blurry, but somehow the two of you made it back to his room without any other incidents.

While the rest of his memories were bits and pieces, but he… did remember the most of the ‘activates,’ and it’d been consensual, and yeah… he’d definitely used protection! That much he remembered!

The next thing he knew, it was the next morning, where he woke up alone, with a hangover, and felt better than he had in awhile.

Too bad that feeling didn’t get to last. His phone rang not long after he woke up. It’d been work, a villain was causing trouble, and they needed him asap.

He showered, dressed, grabbed his stuff, and left.

Then… he’d gotten hurt… bad…

Ended up in the hospital for nearly a week.

After he got out, he, well, had an interesting voicemail and charge on his credit card.

He blushed hard as he remembered the hotel’s message regarding the ‘damages’ done to the room. In particular, the ones done to the sheets and headboard. They even sent him pictures!

Damn, he couldn’t believe he lost control of his quirk like that. He hadn’t done that since… well, since his ‘first time.’ That was so embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d hurt you in the process. Of all the pictures and list of damages, blood-stained sheets weren’t listed. Maybe that’s why he never worked up the courage to reach out to you. Even if he didn’t hurt you, he might have scared you...

Wait….

He lost control of his quirk.

Oh… OH SHIT! Realization dawned on him.

Even if he had put a condom on, his quirk might have damaged it!

Then that means… there is a chance he's the father of your son!

FFFFFUCCCCKK!!!!

But wait.

If he really was your son… why haven’t you contacted him?

His footsteps slowed until he came to a standstill.

You would have told him if he was, wouldn’t you?

Granted, the two of you never exchanged numbers, and we’ll it’s not like he did much to reach out to you either, but… You would have known he’s friends with Izuku, so you knew a way to contact him.

Two-way street, buddy. He internally lashed himself.

Between racking his brain and scolding himself, he didn’t hear the knock on his door until the visitor started pounding.

“Oi! Shifty hair! Answer the damn door!” A loud, brash voice that could only belong to one person yelled through the abused door.

Katsuki? Why was he here?

Kirishima hurried over to the door before the blonde got too impatient and blew it down… again. He took a deep breath and put on his brightest and cheerful grin before opening the door to greet his grumpy best friend.

“Oh hey, Bakubro, what’s up?”

“Don’t bro me! Why the hell am I getting called from your boss to check up on you?” He growled.

“Fat called you?” That was a surprise.

“Yeah, he did. Had to switch my patrol around and everything.” He brushed past the redhead, letting himself in. Kirishima sighed as he shut the door behind them.

“I’m really sorry about that. Not sure wh-”

“Don’t start that bullshit with me.” Those fierce red eyes locked on to him. “And drop that fake ass smile. Always hated when you did that shit.” He mutters.

Damn, Fat just had to go and call him of all people.

If it’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he could play this off. A bright grin, crack a joke or two, maybe a few reassuring words, and he could send them on their way.

But not him. No, not Katsuki. Most people wouldn’t in a million years think the aggressive blonde could show anything other than anger. And yeah, the guy was rough around the edges, and he wasn’t the best with words. But nonetheless, here he was.

And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

Fuck.

“So why am I here?” Katsuki wasn’t backing down, so Kirishima took a deep breath.

“What did Fat tell you?” While his smile didn’t waver, he felt his stomach belly flop to the floor.

“Bastard would spill it, just said you’d need me right and to get over here. Now what the fuck is going on?” While he still sounded angry, there was an underline concern in his tone that most people tend to miss.

Who would have known that would be the thing to make him crack? Well, obviously, Fatgum knew, hence why he sent the blonde over. The great explosive hero was one of the few people that could blow a hole right through his hardened armor.

Both figuratively and literally.

With tears in his eyes, he dropped his bright grin and let the damn of emotion bust. He explained everything that had happened. The robbery, the hospital, you, your son, the night he first met you, the security footage, everything! Hell, he was sure he went into a little too much detail when he described you and that night.

The blonde just stood there shell shocked as he tried to absorb the word vomit hurled at him.

“S-so, yeah… I might… have a…” he couldn’t finish. He just let the silence hang between them.

“You… dumbass.” He sighed quietly, running his hand through his hair before looking him right in the eyes. While his best friend was known far and wide to have a temper, when shit got real, it was eerie how calm and focused he was. “Are you sure he’s your?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean-”

“Have you talked to the mother?”

“N-No!”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” He pressed. “Does anyone else think you’re the father?”

“No! Well, Fat might, but that’s cause he was with me when I put the piece together. But I haven’t told or asked anyone else about this. Honestly, other than the mother, I don’t even know who else to go-” The redhead piped up. Something flashed in his friend’s eyes, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Fuck was he made? He hadn’t come to him about this yet!? Of course, he was! He was finding this out because his boss called him, not because he had called him! Some friend he is... “I was totally going to call you about this! I swear! You’re my best friend. This just happened so suddenly!”

“I know you would, Ei. Chill.” The blonde’s features soften for a second, soothing the redhead some. But he could tell Katsuki was trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not mad at you but, I’ll ask again. Does anyone else know about this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I only found out about this today, and I haven’t had any contact with (Y/N) since the other day and well at Izuku’s birthday party.”

“Ok. Stay here for a bit. You need to calm down. We need more information first. If he isn’t your kid, you’re losing your shit for nothing. And if he is... well,” He paused, “Cross that bridge when you come to it.” He pushed the hero towards the couch and made him sit down. “I need to make a phone call.”

Kirishima blinked as his best friend made his way towards his front door. “NOW SIT THERE. SHUT UP AND CALM DOWN!”

*SLAM*

This was a new level of anger for the blonde. He couldn’t stand seeing the redhead like this. He felt even worse, leaving him alone like this. The damn guy lived off socialization with others, so for him to be facing this alone.

Yeah... it really pissed him off.

The blonde stomped his way back to his apartment, which was just a few doors down. He did need to make a phone call; he hadn’t been lying. But it was a call, that big, dense red rock didn’t need to hear.

Fuck. He couldn’t believe this. Did shitty hair really have a kid?

Katsuki made his way inside his home. The home he shared with not only his wife but his newborn daughter.

Fuck. He has a kid… and he never even knew.

As he made his way through the foyer and into the living room, something caught his eye. Something black, orange, green, and tiny laid on top of a basket of unfolded laundry. It was the custom design onesie Momo had gotten for their daughter as a baby shower gift. The custom design was made to look like his hero costume. While he scoffed at the thing initially, he made sure that she wore home from the hospital.

Well, tried. About halfway through the hospital parking lot, she decided now was the best time to need a diaper and outfit change.

Little brat. He smirked.

If you’d ask him a few years ago what he thought of kids, he would have brushed it off, not really caring about it. His hero career was his focus. He needed no had to be number one.

But now that he has a little one of his own, he realized there was more to life than being number one. Was he still going to do it? You bet your ass, but now that he has his wife and his child that climb to the top well, he couldn’t dream of making it there without them.

He couldn’t imagine a world without her. Let alone a world where he didn’t realize she existed.

He whipped out his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

Especially if someone knew about them.

He took a deep breath and hit send.

Someone close to not only the kid but himself.

And still not tell him.

He knows. There’s no way in hell that precipitative little shit doesn’t know!

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“K-Kacchan. This is a surprise. You never call. Is everything-” Katsuki cut him off.

“We need to talk. Now.”

****

Links: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01 , @simpforeveryone , @remember-happy-things

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ignorancelive · 3 years

Text

FINALLY DOING ALL MY TAG GAMES AAAA IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO DO THESE

@whitedeadflower | pick my favourite albums for bill clinton to enjoy

not necessarily my favorites but i always pick the same 5 albums for these so i just put 4 albums i like a lot and have been listening to more recently <3

@opossuwu | 15 questions

1. What is the first song you remember hearing?

english songs: either learn to fly by foo fighters or human by the killers, i really cannot remember which one but it was around the same time im pretty sure

spanish songs: ALL the songs on/by rebelde, my sister was super into it when i was a baby so i heard so many of their songs right as i was learning to become a human

2. What is the first band you got into?

mmmmmmm probably one direction? if we’re not counting rebelde lol

3. Do you collect music on any physical format?

i collect almost all cds i know and like on CD and have recently started buying vinyl but i think im only going to get albums i really like on it since its more expensive

4. What is your favourite piece of music-related memorabilia/merchandise?

SO many things. i really like my nirvana and red hot chili peppers shirts because they make me feel cute! im also IN LOVE with the in utero angel sticker i bought on redbubble that has a transparent border so its JUST the angel, i stuck it on my record player and i love it so so much

5. What is your favourite concert you've been to?

i have not been to a concert yet :/ i went to a little student festival thing my university hosted for us and saw hunny + hayley kiyoko which was pretty neat

6. If you could see one artist (or band) who is no longer alive in concert, who would it be?

nirvana :(

7. Have you met any musicians?

i went to a cd signing for little mix when i was like 12-13 ish but thats the closest ive gotten lol

8. What is your go-to song/album when feeling sad?

i actually have a playlist of comfort songs to listen to when im sad, but i think the song i most consistently go to is encore by red hot chili peppers

9. What is your go-to song/album when feeling happy?

this one depends. probably hump de bump also by rhcp cause it SLAPS and always puts me in a better mood than when i started

10. What is one music-related documentary you love?

EYE only watched a few minutes of funky monks but im sure if i sat down to watch it now id love it. this is the worst question to ask me because i watch a ton of interviews on youtube so i cant even remember which ones were legit docus as opposed to just youtube vids so this question is gonna be basically unanswered. i do want to watch bob and the monster though

11. What is one concert DVD that you love?

i listen to it more as an album on spotify than watch it but Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged is so good

12. Do you prefer listening to playlists or full albums?

usually playlists! but occasionally ill play the albums i have on my player

13. Do you tend to listen to albums in order or on shuffle?

in order, shuffling them is rare

14. What is your favourite deep cut song by your favourite artist?

favorite artist is rhcp and honestly im? not fully sure. quixoticelixer slaps. and i like almost every song on im with you. but i think im gonna have to go with storm in a teacup cause i checked its streams and its not that popular </3

15. What is your favorite CD/vinyl/cassette that you own in terms of packaging?

THIS ONES SO HARD I LOVE PACKAGING DESIGNS. i love how rhcp’s im with you disc looks like because it has the track list on it but it doesnt look bad like other discs who do that do. booklet design i love vices and virtues by panic at the disco and american idiot by green day. idk what this would fall under but i also love how stadium arcadium’s booklet is held in the case and how when you take it out you see a picture of the band. and there are too many albums whose art i love so i cannot elaborate on that without making this 5xs longer lmao

@garbanz0 & @dailywilliams | top 5 songs ive had on repeat recently

according to spotify’s on repeat playlist:

but also according to my last.fm:

so basically red hot chili peppers own my ass

@badhe4d , @garbanz0 , & @catts-world | 10 songs you like, each by a different artist

uhhhhhhhhhhh

1. Monarchy of Roses - RHCP

2. Back and Forth - Foo Fighters

3. Heart of Glass - Blondie

4. Omission - John Frusciante and Josh Klinghoffer

5. Dance with Me - Sir, Please

6. Henrietta - The Fratellis

7. Breed - Nirvana

8. Mary - The Happy Fits

9. Girls and Boys - Blur

10. It’s All So Incredibly Loud - Glass Animals

@psychoticbreak | suppose you’re being sent to a deserted island for the rest of your life, and you can only choose 10 records to bring with you and those are the only albums you can listen to for the remainder of your life; what albums are they

oh GOD ok

1. in utero - nirvana

2. stadium arcadium - RHCP

3. nothing personal - all time low

4. red - taylor swift

5. after laughter - paramore

6. wasting light - foo fighters

7. im with you + im beside you if you count them as the same album - RHCP

8. so wrong its right - all time low

9. american idiot - green day

10. inside of emptiness - john frusciante

@mark-hoppuss | shuffle my playlist and list the first ten songs that come up

1. New Invention - I Don’t Know How But They Found Me

2. Thanks to You - All Time Low

3. Por Que Me Haces Llorar? - Juan Gabriel

4. Torture Me - Red Hot Chili Peppers

5. Speak Now - Taylor Swift

6. Prayer of the Refugee - Rise Against

7. Going Away to College - blink-182

8. Time-Bomb - All Time Low

9. DNA. - Kendrick Lamar

10. Heaven is a Place on Earth - Belinda Carlisle

@frafru1 , @whitedeadflower , & @psychoticbreak | make a playlist with the letters of my name

Lithium by Nirvana

Universally Speaking by RHCP

Pool by Paramore

Eye Opener by Dot Hacker

@badhe4d | post my lock screen, the last song I listened to and the last picture I saved on my phone

friends name blocked out but. an interesting screenshot. yes i have flea’s tweet notifs on and use twitter for absolutely nothing else. yes i have email notifs on

if screenshots count:

if they DONT count and you mean purely just saving:

my icon and boyfriend <3

@badhe4d | 7 questions to get to know me better

three ships: not romantically because i dont believe in shipping irl people but i love everyone in rhcp’s gay polycule energy. specifically john and anthony in the 80s. romantically tho mickey and ian in shameless. i dont think i have a third one? me and my bisexual mutuals <3

last song: i shuffled a ton of songs and skipped for some of these tags but before those i was listening to the album weird kids by we are the in crowd as a tbt, specifically the song manners

last movie: inside by bo burnham but if you dont count that, hereditary

currently watching: it is very difficult for me to watch shows so im currently just watching youtube lol

currently reading: nothing. i cannot read :( bc of attention issues not bc im illiterate

currently consuming: banana bread :3

currently craving: RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS RELEASE YOUR FUCKING ALBUM CHALLENGE

@the-replacemints | top 10 favorite debut albums

NOT in order. also it took way too long to come up with this list lol

1. Concentrate - The Happy Fits

2. So Wrong It’s Right - All Time Low

3. SOUR - Olivia Rodrigo

4. Strange Desire - Bleachers

5. RAZZMATAZZ - I Dont Know How But They Found Me

6. Hot Fuss - The Killers

7. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

8. Bleach - Nirvana

9. Costello Music - The Fratellis

10. WALK THE MOON - Walk The Moon

because theres so many of these im not gonna tag people for each individual prompt but if you tagged me in one of these i tag you in whichever ones you wanna do <3

#IT TOOK ME TWO HOURS TO FINISH THESE #tag games

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barricadebops · 3 years

Note

Combeferre's mom once came home to find her son and his two best friends, tangled, sleeping in the couch, she has that picture framed next to Ferre's high school diploma.

Hi anon! I’m so sorry this took so long! Forgive me? I really loved this prompt and I wanted to do it justice.

---------------------------------------------------

Despite everything, Christmas and the holiday break surrounding the winter season had never really been stressful for Enjolras. Every year held the same routine: first Combeferre’s mother would sprint to the elementary school which soon gave way to the middle school which soon gave way to the high school he, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac would attend, and, gasping for breath, ask Enjolras if he would like to spend holiday break with their family. Right as Enjolras would open his mouth to answer the question, Courfeyrac’s mom would materialize out of the air and tug him to their side and ask him if he would like to spend holiday break at their house. Then each of the mother’s would demand to know how dare the other have the audacity to ask Enjolras to spend holiday break at her house when she knows that it’s her turn, and the fathers would passive aggressively try to nab the same parking spot to pick their son up from, and in the end, Enjolras would head home after having promised each family that he would think on it. Then, the next day, the cycle would start over again when both Combeferre and Courfeyrac latched onto either of his arms and tug, demanding he spend holiday break with him, and while he would scowl and pretend it’s an annoyance, he was never really able to tamp down the beam that would eventually make its way onto his face during the whole argument, and he knew that Combeferre and Courfeyrac too knew how much he loved it—loved feeling wanted, loved feeling like he’s part of a family even if he didn’t necessarily hold the blood relations within it, because God knew that what little he had of his family--his father--never welcomed him.

Usually, Enjolras alternated houses each holiday break, but it never stopped the arguments from occurring.

This year would have been the same. He was gearing up for the arguments even though he knew that this year he would be spending his time at Combeferre’s house.

But there were none. No one had to argue. There were no laughs or smiles or pretenses at being mad at each family as if they were the Montagues and the Capulets.

This year, Enjolras spent the first day of his junior year holiday break curled up in Combeferre’s bed while his two best friends and each of their parents all stood downstairs in the living room, speaking in hushed tones about the only person who wasn’t present in the room.

Beside the bed on the nightstand stood the few barebone possessions Enjolras had stored in his pocket when his father had finally thrown him out of the house. There laid his wallet, filled only with a few measly dollars and his ID and license, among a few other things, his phone, a pack of gum, and a granola bar wrapper.

He doesn’t think sleep will come to him tonight. Not while the sight of the little he has left to his name stares at him, a reminder of the fact that his father believes he’s only valuable to be allowed a pack of gum as edibles when he locked the door in his face.

Enjolras knows his father is no fool; he knows that as soon as he uttered the words “get out,” that his son would appear on the doorstep of either the Combeferres or the de Courferyacs, that they would plunge their household into an emergency situation and get him in the shower, into new clothes, into a new bed, after having some warm food—but he also knows that if they hadn’t been there for him, he wouldn’t care either way where his son ended up.

And then Courfeyrac and his family had been called over, and here he was, shaking in bed, a nuisance, rather than be out there, discussing the logistics of the situation with everyone.

He doesn’t think motion will come easy to him either for a while.

The door creaks open, spilling streams of light from the bright hallway into the dark room, and he finds he has to squint to make out the distinct figure of Courfeyrac gently padding into the room and gingerly seating himself at his bedside, right beside his face. His best friend cards a gentle hand through his hair.

“Combeferre?” he mumbles unintelligibly, wondering where he was. His mouth feels dry—like no amount of water will get rid of that sharp feeling when he swallows and his throat cries out for nourishment.

Courfeyrac gives him a small smile. “He’s gone over to your house with his father. He’s getting your stuff.”

Enjolras coughs. When had he been coming down with a cold? “He’s probably thrown it all away by now,” he responds, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the little he has on the nightstand. Courfeyrac cards his hand through his hair once more, and Enjolras leans in a little closer. This touch, at least, is gentle. He hasn’t felt such a thing in a while.

“That fast?” Courfeyrac asks quietly. He nods with another cough. His friend gives him a pained look, and Enjolras knows how it must pain him not to portray his comfort through some form of touch—it’s how Courfeyrac expresses love and care, and Enjolras doesn’t want to see that look on his face, and truth be told he too wants it, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it, not like this, not in this situation—

But then, Courfeyrac comes through, like he always does, because he’s always there, he’s always been there just as Combeferre has, since they each met each other in kindergarten and decided through means of their friendship bracelets that they would always be there for each other, like the first time Courfeyrac’s heart had been broken, or the first time Combeferre failed a biology exam and started to doubt his potential to pursue his dreams of becoming a doctor, or the first time Enjolras had the courage to tell his friends about the verbal abuses his father would throw him, and Courfeyrac is there, real and solid, he’s not just an apparition, or a friend his father says simply “tolerates him,” and he’s asking him, “Can I hug you?”

And Enjolras is nodding, nodding because he needs this, he lets Courfeyrac wrap his arms around him tight, he caves in and fists his friend’s shirt, and reality is crashing down on him, but as real as his father’s words to never come back, as real as the uncertainty of his future is, so too is the reality of his friends’ love for him.

And if they both fall asleep like that, and Combeferre gently opens the door to the sight of his two friends curled around each other, as if the past few hours never occurred, if he joins them on the bed, then that just serves as further proof that even if the world comes crumbling down around them, at least they’ll be together, salvaging what little they can and rebuilding their own, better world.

_________________________________________

They managed to retrieve most of his possessions, actually.

Well. His father would argue that they’re really his possessions because they were bought with his money, but Combeferre and his father wouldn’t hear of it. The important thing is they retrieved the legal documents necessary, and quite a few of Enjolras’ clothes and books, amongst various other things.

When they finish raiding the house, Enjolras’ father asks with a sneer to leave him alone from then on.

How ridiculous, thinks Combeferre. If Enjolras was going to start living with his family now, he does realize there’s going to have to be some legal discussion on the transference of possession of a minor, doesn’t he?

---------------------------------------------------

They’re sitting on the couch, bundled underneath a blanket while Combeferre’s parents are out dealing with the legalities of the situation, and they are watching, of all shows, Maury, and Enjolras can’t stop complaining, but Courfeyrac won’t change it, even if he loathes the show (honestly just loathes daytime television—who actually enjoys this stuff?) because there—there—there’s that relaxed, unstressed attitude he’s been trying for so hard to coax from Enjolras in the past few weeks that Courfeyrac has been staying with Combeferre’s family, trying to ease Enjolras into this new transition with as much support as he can give.

“You… are… the… FATHER!!!” Maury screams on tv, pointing to the man everyone already knew would have been. From his position—head in Enjolras’ lap, he can see the way Enjolras’ expressions contort to one of exasperation and irritation at having to watch something so unbelievably garbage.

“Okay, you know who the father is, now can we please watch something else?” he asks for the hundredth time.

Reaching up, he pokes a finger in Enjolras’ cheek. “But, Enjolras! There’s a new episode starting up right after this! Don’t you want to know about…” he casts his arm around for the remote, reading the description for the next episode, “...Garth cheating on Cheryl with her friend… Helen?”

Enjolras looks down at him, incredulous. “Courfeyrac, please.”

“Yes, Courfeyrac,” Combeferre says as he drops down on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his hands, “change the channel. There’s only so much of Kathy accusing Abigail of carrying her husband’s child that I can take.” Setting it aside on the coffee table in front of them all, he drapes an arm around Enjolras, a silent invitation.

And when Enjolras leans in, settling his head on Combeferre’s chest without flinching or tensing up for the first time in so many days, Courfeyrac smiles.

Pouting, he pretends to be upset at the way Enjolras and Combeferre gang up on him. “Fine, then what do you say we watch—and no, Ferre, we’re not watching a Nat Geo documentary. This isn’t the time for Nat Geo documentaries.”

Combeferre looks affronted. “Fine. But that means we’re not watching Bridget Jones’ Diary again.”

He gasps, outraged. “Excuse you! Bridget Jones’ Diary is a cult classic.” He glances back up at Enjolras. “Back me up here, Enj.”

Enjolras snorts. “Why would I waste my time watching Bridget Jones get together with knock off Mr. Darcy when I can instead watch Elizabeth Bennet get together with real-deal Mr. Darcy? After some due insults, that is,” he ends, smiling a little.

Sighing dramatically, he reached up to twist one of Enjolras’ curls around his finger. “All this talk of Lizzy Bennet and Mr. Darcy from you Enjolras, and yet I still don’t see you looking for your own Mr. Darcy. You’ve roasted the shit out of plenty of people. When are we going to find someone who tells you that you’ve bewitched them body and soul?”

Enjolras scrunches his nose as Combeferre shakes his head. “Enjolras ‘roasts the shit’ out of bigots in school. I doubt he’d want to go out with racist Randy from history class.”

“I thought we were deciding what movie we were going to watch, not my love life,” complains Enjolras.

“And I’m just trying to find you a love life!” he shoots back.

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. “If I’m Elizabeth Bennet, and you’re unjustly interfering in my love life, wouldn’t that make you Mrs. Bennet, then?”

He gasps. “You take that back!”

Enjolras smiles smugly, resuming carding his fingers through Courfeyrac’s hair. “I can think very well of another bookworm who Mr. Bennet would be,” he says with an air of superiority. Courfeyrac blushes and glares up at him, just as Combeferre breaks from looking through Netflix and goes hm?

“Let’s get back to looking for a movie,” he mutters.

And then—

Then—

Courfeyrac would risk his crush being exposed hundreds of times if it meant he could hear Enjolras laugh again like that, laugh after so long, after so many weeks of being so tense, so much more tense than boys their age should be. He beams as he watches Enjolras try and recover himself from his fit of laughter, and under the blanket, he squeezes Combeferre’s hand, and he smiles even brighter when as he watches Combeferre watch their best friend softly, some of the past few days’ tension dissipate, though they all know it’s not gone completely.

But here in this moment, as Enjolras laughs, which makes Courfeyrac laugh, and in turn makes Combeferre furrow his eyebrows trying to figure out what he missed, it exists as something outside their reality.

“You know what we should watch?” Enjolras finally manages to say when he’s caught his breath. Combeferre sees the look in Enjolras’ eyes and sighs.

“But it’ll be the second time this month.”

Courfeyrac catches on quickly. “As if you haven’t watched the same Nat Geo documentary four times in the same month.” He casts his eyes back up to Enjolras and gives him a small salute. “I second the motion, dear leader!”

As Enjolras bursts out into laughter once more, Combeferre heaves another sigh and begins to look through Netflix, resigned to his fate. Though, he admits it’s a rather good fate. Honestly, who doesn’t love this movie?

Enjolras snuggles closer into Combeferre’s chest. Combeferre tightens his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder. Enjolras continues to card his fingers through Courfeyrac’s curls. Courfeyrac has his feet thrown up on Combeferre’s lap. All three of them burrow under the blankets as, on screen, Grandpa begins to recite the tale of Westley and Buttercup’s love story.

_________________________________________

Unsurprisingly, it is Enjolras who falls asleep first, head heavy on Combeferre’s chest. Courfeyrac would have smiled at the sight, if he wasn’t also on the verge of falling asleep. Combeferre considers making two trips and carrying his two friends up the stairs and two his room, but his own eyes are drooping closed, and the blankets were warm, and so were his friends.

He figures they’ll all wake up later anyways.

---------------------------------------------------

They don’t wake up for a while.

The movie is over and something absurd Netflix has suggested is playing, but dimly, as her son, Enjolras, and Courfeyrac all sleep on, bundled together.

Can anyone blame her, really, when Mme. Combeferre cannot resist and snap a picture?

Right now, the entire world seemed to be crashing down on those three, and on her family and the de Courfeyracs.

But here is a moment in which they reside in this little space of bliss they have—carefree, the weight of the world off their shoulders, the weight of problems they shouldn’t have to deal with—and it is a moment worth capturing, a reminder that maybe, hopefully, soon enough, things will be okay.

Two years later, as her son and his two best friends—one of which she had considered another one of her sons the moment she had seen him when the three were all in kindergarten—leave for university, she breathes out, looks back, and nods.

Yes, things had turned out okay.

Next to her son’s and Enjolras’ high school diplomas hangs that same picture—the three all snuggled on the couch. At the de Courfeyrac’s the same hangs in the living room, and as the three boys—the triumvirate, she thinks with a fond roll of her eyes—head off to their new residence at university where they’ll stay together, as they had always meant to, she knows that the framed copy she sent with her son will hang there too.

Things turned out okay.

#les miserables #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac #enjolras & combeferre & courfeyrac #triumvirate friendship #les mis fic #annie writes stories #I loved this prompt #sorry for the angst at the beginning :(#fun game find the 'Hasan Minhaj: Homecoming King' reference #it's 'racist randy' that's the reference

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #10 for @dimension20alphabet:

Jitters / Joy

One of the most important lessons Gorgug has learned from his parents is to always talk about his feelings—not necessarily with his parents, but with someone, maybe even anyone, especially if it was something that makes him feel bad.

Gorgug learned that his parents are usually right about stuff like this when he simply gave up on talking about his rage issues—simply because his parents were never angry in their life and it had been frustrating to try and explain it to them. Instead of just going away, like Gorgug had hoped, his anger had become worse.

Now he has Zelda and Ragh to talk to when his anger feels overwhelming or shameful or scary. And his parents were right.

Talking about his feelings helps.

Or, in this special case, freaking out with either one of those two or both of them was really good to keep his anger in check in the long run.

Sometimes finding the right person to talk to about a specific problem is a challenge. He has tried to breach his recent conundrum with Fig, but she only stared at him with blank eyes and seemed so confused that Gorgug decided that she wasn’t the right person for the job. To be fair, maybe she was still scarred from that whole debacle with her mom and Garthy. Or maybe she is just so in love with Ayda that she can’t imagine being in his position at all.

Finally, Gorgug decides on Jawbone.

Jawbone is great to talk to for a big variety of topics, although sometimes Gorgug just prefers talking to someone his own age. But in this case it seems unlikely to find someone and Jawbone is perfect simply because Gorgug knows that Jawbone has experience with the topic that’s keeping Gorgug up at night.

That topic being polyamory.

When he first heard about it in relation to Jawbone he hadn’t really known what it meant, so he asked Adaine about it. Adaine who—in Gorgug’s book knows about almost everything—didn’t disappoint and explained that some people are in a relationship with more than one person.

Gorgug still remembers the feeling in his stomach that reminded him of missing a step on one of the stairs at school or the first few seconds of an elevator moving down. He identified the emotion as excitement, which then led to guilt towards Zelda.

Feelings are really complicated.

He walks around in front of Jawbone’s office for what feels like an eternity and his nervousness gets worse the longer he walks, so finally he just rips the door open and forgets to knock.

Jawbone is eating a salad and chokes on a lettuce leaf when Gorgug nearly pulls the door off its hinges before quickly entering.

“Um—sorry”, he says sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.

“Hey there, Gorgug. I would say come in, but...”, Jawbone chuckles and motions to one of the cozy armchairs standing in front of his desk. Gorgug sits down and tries not to accidentally break anything while his fingers nervously try to find something to occupy themselves with.

“What’s up, kiddo?”, Jawbone asks gently and puts his salad bowl aside.

“I guess I wanted to talk to you... about—um. About you being poly?”, Gorgug says, his voice a little higher than normal. He tries to calm his breathing but his stomach feels a little bit like someone dropped one of Fig’s bathbombs in there.

“About me being poly? Or about you possible being poly?”, Jawbone asks and Gorgug feels a flush on his cheeks.

“Yeah. I mean. About me, I guess.”

“Okay, that’s cool. So, tell me a little bit about that”, Jawbone says encouragingly and smiles at him, pushes his glasses up and leans back in his chair.

“Uh—well. I’m—hm. So, Zelda is my girlfriend. And I—I—uh. Iloveher. And. And it’s really good being with her and I don’t want to break up or anything. But—um. But I also like someone else? If that makes sense.”

“Yeah, that makes total sense to me, kiddo. So, have you talked to Zelda about liking someone else?”

“No. I’m scared to hurt her. Like, what if she thinks I don’t like her anymore because I like another person? Or if she thinks she’s not good enough as a girlfriend. She’s, like. Really awesome. I don’t want to make her feel bad. And—and I don’t know if that—if that other person... Um. If h—if they like me back at all.”

Jawbone is listening to him patiently and nodding along, like he knows exactly what Gorgug is talking about. It makes him feel a little less nervous and he finally manages to loosen his grip on the armrests of the chair.

“So, the most important things about polyamory are communication and consent, right? Truth being told, that’s the most important thing in any relationship, but if you’re potentially juggling more than one partner, then it becomes even more essential. And if you and Zelda trust each other, there should be no problem in expressing your feelings, right? Liking another person doesn’t have to take away from you liking Zelda. Just like you liking Riz doesn’t take away from you liking Fabian or Fig or Kristen or Adaine. And hey, maybe she will be a little shocked, or maybe she will say that she’s not poly, or doesn’t want to try. And it might end up staying a closed relationship, right? That’s entirely possible. But if she’s open for it and trusts you, then maybe you two can talk about it and you can think about telling that other person about your feelings too. It’s just important that everyone is open about their feelings and everyone knows about what’s going on, you know?”

Gorgug nods.

Being open about feelings is something he’s been working on anyway, and something he’s been taught since he was small. He thinks about what Jawbone said and it makes sense, that just because he has five friends, that doesn’t mean his love for them is diminished by liking other people too.

Now that he thinks about it, romance seems to be the only thing that has this pressure of being an exclusive thing. Parents are supposed to love all their children equally. Siblings might like some more than others, but Gorgug assumes that this doesn’t have anything to do with the number of siblings. He loves both of his dads, too.

It makes sense.

“I can give you some stuff to read, if you’re interested”, Jawbone says, watching him attentively as if to see if Gorgug is upset. But Gorgug, now that he has entangled his worries into words and said them out loud, and after thinking about what Jawbone said, feels an inexplicable sense of joy about his new understanding of things.

He’s not sure he would have gotten here on his own, but he’s learned that he doesn’t have to.

And the thought about having two partners is such a happy potential unfolding in front of him that he feels a smile spreading over his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I would like that”, he says. “Thanks a lot, Jawbone. I’ll—uh. I’ll talk to Zelda. And. And um—maybe then I’ll talk to... Ragh. Depending on how it goes with Zelda.”

Jawbone’s face breaks into a big smile and he reaches over the desk to clasp his clawed hand on Gorgug’s shoulder.

“I’ll have my fingers crossed for you, kiddo. Ragh is a good kid. And so are you and Zelda. I’ll lend you that book when you come over next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I feel like I might be over again soon”, Gorgug says and scratches the back of his neck as Jawbone chuckles.

“Well, I’m glad I could help you out, Gorgug. If you have any more questions, my door’s always open.”

“Thanks, Jawbone.”

“No problem, kiddo. And by the way? Welcome to the community.”

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #gorgug thistlespring #fanfiction #d20alphabet21 #jawbone o'shaughnessey #mi writes #is there a shipname for zelda gorgug and ragh??#if so i dont know it

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