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3pirouette · 3 years

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Fic: By The Sea (1/1)

Title: By the Sea By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Part of the Nobody’s Baby Universe

Story Summary: Mandy’s first time at the Beach hijinks. Pure fluff.

A/N: Prompted by an Anon on Tumblr, Mandy’s first trip to the beach. She’s about just shy of 2 years old here, so you can imagine where it falls in the stories. There was about… a two-week hole from when I started this to when I finished it. Fluff doesn’t seem to be what my brain wants to focus on right now. Hope you all enjoy.

~*~

Peggy straightened; her one hand still held tight in Mandy’s as she pulled her sunglasses down with the other. “Well, this is quite embarrassing.”

Ana leaned over, holding the umbrella tight over the three of them as she whispered conspiratorially, “How long do you think it will take them?”

Peggy smiled, looking over the men a few dozen feet down the beach as they struggled with the poles and fabric that was supposed to be an easily assembled gazebo to keep them out of the sun. She shrugged and leaned over again, moving as Mandy toddled along, unsteady in the sand and dragging her along. “Well, we have the world’s strongest man, the world’s smartest man, and the world’s most patient man all working together.”

Ana followed, keeping the three fair ladies in the shade of the umbrella as Mandy led them back and forth in the new novelty of the sand. “So, next week then?”

Peggy laughed, and Mandy stopped, looking up and laughing, too, though she didn’t quite understand what she was laughing at. Peggy and Ana shared a look that lasted only a moment before Mandy pulled them along again. “Quite,” Peggy agreed. “If anything,” she ventured another peak over where Steve was consulting directions, Howard was blatantly ignoring them, and Jarvis was standing in the blaring sun, long suffering, “we’ll be lucky to have it for lunch.”

“Unch?” Mandy asked, looking up and smiling.

“Yes, darling, lunch.” Peggy repeated the word, exaggerating her lips. “Lunch.”

“Unch!” Mandy babbled it over and over, kicking her feet up and giggling as the sand kicked up into the air and squished between her toes.

“Want to switch?” Ana asked, holding out the umbrella.

“Ah, yes, please!” Peggy sighed happily, turning and handing Mandy’s sweaty hands over to Ana’s trusty grip. “She needs to grow six inches or I need to shrink. The leaning over is just terrible!”

“Aww, I think she’s just delightful the way she is!” Ana cooed the words, leaning over to kiss Mandy on the cheek as she adjusted her grip. “Though, yes, the leaning is terrible.”

Peggy stood, arching back as she held the umbrella over the three of them, the shade helpful but no match for the heat. “She’s gotten much steadier on her own, but…”

“Nard!” Mandy squeaked, pulling Ana along towards a group of seagulls.

“No darling,” Peggy followed dutifully, “that’s not Bernard, that’s a seagull.”

“Nard!” She tried again, this time taking one hand from Ana and pointing at a stray that was wandering closer.

“No, seagull.”

Mandy pouted, looking up at Peggy obstinately. “Nard!”

Peggy squatted down, meeting Mandy at her height and brushing the errant hairs from her sweaty forehead. “No. Darling, Bernard had to stay at the house. That is a seagull.” Peggy shook her head and looked at Ana as she stood. “I swear, Howard is on my shit list for ever introducing her to that bird!”

“Shit.”

Peggy and Ana both stopped and looked down at Mandy, who was smiling wide with the new word she’d just learned. She said it again. “Shit.”

Peggy turned away, smiling and waving at the boys who were somewhat farther along in their job, but still no closer to having any kind of actual shelter. “Steve is going to kill me,” she whispered to Ana, a hint of real panic in her eyes. “She said ‘damn’ three times last week.”

Ana chuckled, far less concerned. “She’s learning new words every day. Just ignore it and she’ll drop it.”

“Nard!”

“See?” Ana let Mandy pull away from her grip and toddle a few steps away. “She’s forgotten already!”

Peggy glanced back at Steve, dutifully still trying to hold poles in ways that seemed to defy gravity, knowing any anger he might feel would be minimal as he was having his own issues with curbing his language, as well. Mandy was silent for a moment, then her voice picked up a sound that Peggy had started to get far too familiar with and that meant mischief was coming. “Nard?”

Peggy swooped down, dropping the umbrella and grabbing Mandy right before she could grab a fistful of an unsuspecting seagull she’d managed to sneak up on. “Oh no, no touching the seagulls young lady!” Peggy kept her voice light, but she was frazzled enough that there was anxiety in her voice.

Mandy, however, was unhappy with being taken away from her find and let out a loud and shrill squeal as she squirmed to get out of Peggy’s hands and down to chase the bird that had now flow away. The sound caught the attention of most everyone on the beach, but especially Steve, who dumped the armful of posts and fabric he was holding into Jarvis’s hands without thinking before jogging over to Peggy.

Peggy was sure she would have found the way Jarvis slowly crumbled to the ground, trying his best to hold the weight of his new load and failing, quite comical had she not been trying her best to keep the squirming and crying toddler in her arms from running down the beach.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve was barely out of breath when he reached them, his arms out to be handed his daughter.

“Dad-dy,” Mandy moaned as he took her in his arms, as if Peggy had horribly wronged her by keeping her away from the seagulls.

“Drama queen,” Peggy whispered, shifting her caftan back in place. Steve just looked at her as Mandy burrowed into his arms, smiling. “She’s cross that I wouldn’t let her grab a seagull.”

“Oh, how dare Mama?” Steve cooed at Mandy as she quieted, brushing her hair back as he shared a look with Peggy over her head. “How dare she keep you safe!”

Peggy sighed, trying to pull Mandy’s disheveled hair back into the small ponytail they’d managed that morning. “How’s the hut coming?”

“Oh, you mean Howard’s overly expensive, overly complicated, tent?” Steve rolled his eyes and started to rock back and forth. “We’ll be lucky if it’s up by dinner.”

“We were hoping lunch,” Ana chimed in, stepping over and setting herself and Peggy under the umbrella.

Steve looked back, lips pressed tight. “If you guys can distract Howard, I think Jarvis and I can get it up by ourselves. He keeps trying to ‘improve’ the design.”

“Oh, good lord,” Peggy mumbled, reaching for Mandy and taking her in her arms. “Work fast, please? She’s getting cranky already.”

Peggy and Ana followed Steve back to the little site they’d staked out, far away from the other early morning beachgoers. Howard was on his knees, picking up pipe fittings and tossing them aside. “Why didn’t they include a J fitting in here?”

“Perhaps, sir, it’s because the design doesn’t call for one?” Jarvis asked, his voice far less sarcastic than the situation called for, as he tried to dodge and yet gather the pieces Howard was tossing away.

“Well, it should. It would make the design much better.”

“Howard!” Peggy called sharply, making the man look up. “Just the man I need. I have had a fabulous idea and need to speak to you about it just this minute.”

He turned back to his pile of fittings as Steve took Jarvis aside and whispered their play. “Alright.”

She pulled her sunglasses down and looked at him. “By the water.”

He set his hands on his knees, shaking his head at her. “I’m kinda in the middle—”

“My daughter is suffering, Howard. It’s a hot, humid day in the blinding sunlight and you’d deny my daughter the relief of the cool ocean water?” Peggy shook her head, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You’d deny your own goddaughter her first steps in the Pacific Ocean, Howard?”

Howard stood, brushing the sand off his knees, mock outrage on his face. “You make me sound like a monster, Peg!” He turned back to the pile of tent supplies. “Do you—” Howard hadn’t even managed a whole sentence, and Steve and Jarvis already had a tent pole set and secured. “Yup, I think they’ll be okay without me, lead on, Peg.”

Ana watched as they left towards the water and bent down, taking Howard’s place and sorting the connecting parts. “How long do you think Peggy will be able to keep him busy?”

“Oh,” Steve paused to lift a pole in place and waited while Jarvis secured it, “Peggy’s a wiz at wrangling him, I don’t know how she does it.”

“I find her handling of him quite spectacular,” Jarvis’ voice was high as he reached on his tip toes to secure a nut into place. He finished and slumped down, moving on to the next section, “I’ve managed to learn a thing or two from her in that regard.”

“What could she still possibly have to talk to him about?” Ana moved on to start sorting the lump of fabric that was supposed to go over the supports. “They just spent four days with the Colonel going through that entire Los Angeles office!”

“Who knows? She always manages to find some way of distracting him.” Steve set the last crossbeam up and secured it into place and looked at the bones of the tent, set securely in the sand. “Well, look at that, it really is easy to put up.”

“When you don’t have a narcissistic engineer trying to run the project,” Ana mumbled, pulling the light canvas wide.

~*~

Howard kicked the sand as they got close to the water’s edge. “I know what you’re doing, Peg.”

“Guilting you to come out to the water so they can get the tent set up so we can start our day at the beach?” She smiled, sitting at the water’s edge and sitting Mandy between her legs.

Howard sat down next to her, the edge of the waves running up just to meet their feet. “Something like that.” He wiggled his fingers at Mandy, trying not to sound maudlin. “It’s hard for me to not try, you know?”

Peggy let the girl crawl between them, one hand on her as she sat. “I know, which is why sometimes you need a friend to step in and remind you that you don’t need to impress us.” She smiled as Mandy patted Howard on the thigh then laid her head on him, babbling little noises to herself as she splashed her feet in the remnants of the waves. “See? She doesn’t care if you can make the tent better.”

Howard smiled, looking back out over the water. “You know, kid, you almost, almost make me want to think about settling down, you’re that cute.”

“Dah cu!” Mandy replied, smacking his leg a few times and sitting up, giggling.

Peggy held her own laugh back. “Yes, yes, you’re cute. We all know.” She leaned over and kissed the girl’s forehead before wetting her hand and letting it run over Mandy’s neck and back to cool her.

“How are they—” Howard laughed as he looked back, Steve and Jarvis on their knees, tying the last few flaps of the cabana in place. “Guess it was easy to set up, after all.”

Peggy stood and pulled Mandy into her arms, trying to wipe off the wet sand before she reached down and tapped Howard on the shoulder. “Come along, you. There’s fun to be had today, and we’re not letting a tent stand in our way.”

~*~

The shade was a relief for the small group, and between Steve and Jarvis they had the small set of tables and chairs set up quickly, and Mandy was out like a light in the little wooden pay pen as soon as they set her in it.

“You two should go for a swim,” Ana encouraged Peggy and Steve. “She’ll be no trouble while she’s sleeping.”

“Well, if—” The sound that came out of Peggy’s mouth after that couldn’t exactly be called undignified, but there were only so many noises she could make as Steve rushed her and flung her over his shoulder. “Brute!” she called, laughing as he nearly ran with her to the beach, arms pounding at his back.

Steve stopped, looking at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “You were about to ‘well’ your way out of it.”

She pressed her hands into his back and looked at him over the edge of her sunglasses. “I was about to say, ‘well, if you insist,’ darling.”

Steve slowly put her down, an impish smile on his face as she followed her the few steps back to the tent. “In my defense…”

Peggy turned and walked backwards, pulling her sunglasses off and looked at him seriously. “In your defense, I’m often a wet blanket.” She tipped her head and licked her lips. “Good thing for you, my intentions are quite different today.”

Peggy turned, stripping off her caftan to reveal a bright red bikini. She folded it and slipped off her shoes, dropping her things in a pile in the shade of tent. She set her hands on her hips, bright smile on her face as she turned back to him. “Well? What do you think? It’s French.”

Steve nodded, slowly stepping up towards her. Without another word he tossed her over his shoulder once again, heading towards the water. “I think I’m one lucky guy,” he laughed, setting her down at the water’s edge.

Howard stepped forward, watching from the shade of the tent as Steve and Peggy slowly made their way into the chill of the Pacific Ocean. “Who’d think it?” he wondered out loud.

“Who’d think what, sir?” Jarvis asked as he was setting out fruit from the picnic basket next to him.

Howard smiled, watching as Steve lifted Peggy out of the water keeping her head and shoulders dry as a wave hit him straight in the face. As it receded, she reached down, wiping the water from his eyes and kissing him softly. “Who would guess that the world’s best super solder and the world’s most dangerous spy are two idiots in love?”

Ana laughed from her chair, pulling out a book and peeking over at Mandy. “No one, which is what makes it even better.” She sighed, leaning back and opening her book. “God help anyone who crosses them, though.”

Howard scoffed, putting on his own sunglasses. “Oh, yeah.” He leaned out and looked down the beach. “I’m uh, gonna go meet some of the locals.” He looked around the small haven and smiled. “You two ok by yourselves the munchkin?”

“Quite fine, sir,” Jarvis replied, taking his own seat next to his wife. “Lunch will be ready at noon on the dot.”

Ana put her book down as Howard walked away, whistling as he made his way down the beach. From her chair she could see Mandy reposition herself, sighing as she fell back asleep, and Steve and Peggy laughing in the waves a few dozen yards down the beach. She reached out taking her husband’s hand. “How many girls do you think he’ll bring back this time?”

“At least two,” Edwin leaned back, kissing her hand before relaxing in the chair. “How long do you think the two of them will be out there?”

“Oh, until lunch, I’d say,” Ana looked out, smiling as they splashed each other, “Or until Peggy’s skin’s as red as her bathing suit, whichever comes first.” She lifted her book. “Poor thing hasn’t figured out how to deal with California sunshine.”

Edwin picked an apple from the spread on the table. “Don’t worry, I’ve packed the aloe.”

“Good man, Mr. Jarvis.”

“Well, someone has to take care of them.” He bit into the apple, chewing thoughtfully. “They may be dedicated parents, the world’s strongest man, the world’s best female spy, and then of course we also have the world’s smartest man, but none of them can cook or clean house if their life depended on it. And sewing? Ha!” He swallowed and looked over at his wife. “I’d say it’s quite lucky we all managed to find one another, wouldn’t you?”

Ana smiled, “Yes, quite, my love.”

#Steggy Fic #3P's Fic #Nobody's Baby #Anon prompted #FLUFF

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jeonandjoonie · 3 years

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Just One Day

posted on wattpad and this tumblr only.

You have a crush on your boxing T.A. college au. Jungkook X Reader.

word count: ~10,900k

W: NONE

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Kids.

You couldn’t believe that for your last semester in college you would have to take a physical education class. You still curse your advisor when you remember the day.

You were walking happily to your appointment prepared to turn in your graduation application only to be told that you were not set to graduate. Your previous advisor didn’t notice the unfulfilled requirement. You almost cried and immediately went to your apartment to search up any physical Ed classes that would satisfy the requirement.

Of course being so late in registering, all the basic classes such as Yoga, Gym, and Dance were filled. You looked over the list, even weight training had a waitlist of 5. You were beginning to feel hopeless as you saw Judo and Tennis having a waitlist as well. There must be an open one!!

And how much your heart delighted when you noticed a class that was full but had no waitlist! Your eyes immediately crossed over to the left to see what class it was.

Boxing.

Taken back, you pushed back the stress from clouding your mind. Thinking of having to not only work out but be punched down Sighing, you quickly clicked on the class to register accepting your doom. Another couple hundred dollars invested into your degree, taking a class you were not interested in.

With the start of the semesters you passed through all your classes easily already feeling like a master in your discipline. You walked happily from class to class. You were especially happy that your internship and student work study all fit perfectly within your schedule.

You plopped yourself onto your tiny single bed. In a few hours you’ll have to get ready for your first day of Boxing. 3-hour class, two times a week, it made you want to cry. Your classes started at 6 and it was past 4 when you got to your apartment, so you quickly went to your kitchen to eat. You wanted your food to be digested before class to prevent yourself from vomiting.

You settled for some leftover mango rice and smoked salmon that accumulated from days before. Neither were yours, but you and your three other roommates agreed that when food has been in the fridge for more than two days it’s a free for all.

"Hey, __" your roommate, literally roommate which you share your room with, patted your head as she passed you. "Do you want to do our nails and talk about our 5-year plans and then eat ice cream?" She shouted from your shared bedroom.

" Sorry, can’t!" You shouted back to her, "I got that boxing class tonight!" You continued to shout even though she was now in front of you. You wanted the whole world to hear your misery.

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" She responded leaning onto the counter

" Ugh. Please, it’s going to be such a waste of time. Punching people is one thing but having to let someone punch me sounds so annoying" you complained putting your dishes in the sink.

"Stop crying, I’m sure they won’t have you fight anyone. I bet it’ll just be like learning posture or something. It’ll probably just be the basics".

"True... Anyways do you have any clothes I can borrow real quick? I didn’t have time to buy any"

"Sure, What’s the dress code"

“I dunno, the guy just said casual and comfortable for the first day", you thought it over " just sweats, I have a t-shirt. Please!"

When you asked for sweats you didn’t think it was going to be an issue. Sweats are pretty much one size fits all. You should have known better as you looked at yourself in your floor length mirror. Minah's gray sweats were clinging to your butt and legs.

"Oh my god Minah, what is your size? a size negative zero, I feel like I’ll explode. Did you get this at the kids’ section".

"Shut up, those are the only ones I have…they kind of shrunk when I washed them" she mumbled the last part. You knew Minah was skinnier than you, but you didn’t expect it to be this much maybe just a size or two. "they don’t even look that bad, they fit really snug on me after the wash".

Seeing your disappointing stare, she quickly fusses over you. "Fine. Bend down, run, jump or do whatever boxers do. Let’s see how they look".

You jumped, kicked, and ran in place. You dropped it low a couple times to feel the strain on your thighs and butt.

"I mean…I guess they’re okay" you studied yourself again "you know what, it’s no big deal it’s like I’m wearing yoga pants"

Minah laughed "You’re so right! why are we even discussing this?"

You looked at her putting on a pout "they look like yoga pants, but they feel like they’re about to rip. Look, my pockets are sticking out!"

Finally getting annoyed with you, Minah sighed loudly throwing her hands up in a dramatic flair "Wear them, don’t wear them. Hurry up cause it.." she looks at her rose gold wrist watch with faux diamonds around the frame, the one you gifted her for Christmas. Yes, you are proud of your gift. "Oh my gosh, __ you need to go it's 5:50! Isn’t your class at 6?" Minah looked at you with wide eyes.

"What?!" you squeaked. You didn’t want to be late, you couldn’t given the fact that you were on the waitlist. You can’t give off a bad impression now. "Oh my…oh my gosh" you muttered to yourself quickly, slipping on a black t-shirt. You grabbed your bag and ran towards the front door to slip on your black shoes. Which was a struggle and you later realized it would have been easier and maybe faster to untie them and then put them on.

You reached out for the door handle only to have it hit you against your forehead.

"Oh my gosh" three voices chorused at the same time.

Sohee your other roommate gasped as she grabbed your arm to inspect your injury. However, you simply brushed her away as you were already late. "__, wait are you okay, I’m so sorry"

"It's fine, I’m good!” you yelled back as you ran the two blocks to your campus. only to getting slightly lost as you turned a right and not a left. You didn’t even have time to blame it on your possible concussion. Can you get a concussion? you don’t know. But you almost threw up with nerves when you realized you made the wrong turn.

You need to get into this class. Your graduation depended on it. Although you’re sure they will squeeze you in when they realize you’re a senior, you still want to be in good standing with the instructor if you planned on slacking off in class.

Reaching the gymnasium doors, you tried to control your breathing. You haven’t run this fast since you had to run miles in middle school. You felt dizzy and tried hard not to think about your burning calves.

Inside looked nothing like you thought it would. You imagined dark lights, punching bags, and maybe some weights. However, there were only large mats laid out on the floor. A small group of students seated in front of what you figured is the instructor. You quickly ducked your head trying to hide yourself as you sat down in the back. There were two other people standing next to him wearing head gear and strapping on boxing gloves.

"And who is the new intruder?" the instructor, Mr. Kang or Mino, questioned out loud.

You shyly smiled (or what you thought was a cute shy smile) when in reality you looked like a nervous wreck, trying to hide the fact that your legs were burning and you were breathing too hard. Hmm? was that sweat running down your neck.

"I’m ___, I should be on the waitlist"

Mino made a huge show of flipping the pages of his clipboard. "Ah yes __, I see you here. Well if you still want this class you’re in luck because three people dropped out this morning"

Even though you were practically hyper venting in your seat and you're pretty sure the sweatpants were cutting your circulation. You felt such a relief wash over you.

“Just don’t make a habit out of being late, 25 minutes is unacceptable, 5 more and I would have kicked you out. Next time make sure to email me beforehand"

If you didn’t look like a nervous wreck before, you sure did now. You nodded your head too afraid to speak from the embarrassment.

"Come get your syllabus after class, we’ve already gone over it”, he looked around “Everyone this is why I stress that you should attend every class and be here on time, every moment is important" he clapped his hands, “now for the fun part: the demonstration”. He turned towards the two people standing at his side, “like I said these are two of my excellent students who are in boxing III, they volunteered their time to be here and help me teach this course. so please give them the same respect you will give me" he turned towards them once more giving them a nod as a sign to begin. The two guys started to face each other and sway around.

"These are more advanced moves, we won’t be learning these in this course but I want you to see..."

The instructor's voice drifted off as you watched the two guys start to move and jab at each other. They were fast and moving so quick on their feet. Your eyes lingered on to their legs. Interesting…very interesting. With these types of demonstrations maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad.

The two guys continued to "punch" each other bouncing in their spot. "Whoos" can be heard from the students around you who knew what was happening. It did look like the one in all black was beating the one in a blue shirt. The guy in blue was larger than the other which says a lot since they both look fit.

You were startled out of analyzing as Mino clapped his hands, "Okay. Okay, guys that’s enough thank you".

He applauded and everyone followed along. As did you, poking your head in between the seated bodies in front of you trying to get a better look of the guys. The guy in all black had tattoos on his hand and arm. The one in blue had a tattoo running up his neck. You were curious to see how it would spread out on his body. When he fully took off his head gear, wow….

Oh….

Wow…

You were amazed. These guys are so handsome. They are the straight definition of charming. You almost wanted to reprimand him for risking his stunning features. He gave a boxy smile "Hi, everyone my name is Taehyung".

“Hi Taehyung” a couple of aspiring class clowns responded back.

"Hi, I’m Jungkook" the voice next to him said.

Your eyes turned to him. The one in all black. To say your heart stopped would be an understatement because you are sure your brain cells did to. You froze in your spot, zoning in on his pretty face. Noticing the way his eyes crinkle despite his attempt to look serious. The charm and absolute power that oozed out of him was no intimidation to you, for your newfound adoration for his aura and beauty captivated you more. So much that you are willing to freeze in the spot if it resulted in you taking him in.

You continued to stare at Jungkook. This time zoning in on his lips, not yet picking up on his squinted eyes trying to meet yours for he felt you blunt stare and felt slightly amused. Jungkook, what a guy, what a man, what a-

“Okay class, let’s begin some basic moves everybody! Get to the mats".

Upon hearing more chatter and the squeaks of shoes, like on autopilot your body stood up. You were out of your trance once you realized you were staring at the back of Jungkook's neck. You quickly got into a spot in the back corner wanting a place where no one will see if you happened to rip your sweats or see your lame attempt at following along. You tried to make sure you have a view on that Jungkook guy, but blocking your view was a couple other people. You didn’t even have the privilege of seeing his calf. You decided to just admit defeat and listen to Mino. The class began with basic exercises that seemed even more difficult than the jumping jacks and squats you did in your room earlier.

"Hey are you alright?". You jumped back upon hearing a voice at your side, "Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, are you good?"

It was Taehyung.

"Huh, wha- why?.. no, no I’m good"

"Okay it just seemed like you were struggling a bit”

"No I’m fine. Everything is fine…haha" you said as you lunged your leg forward like everyone else did to show him you were right on track. Can he notice the agony on your face that was caused by the ridiculous sweats?

“How about your forehead?” he asked, pointing to his own, upon seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“OH” you exclaimed a little too loudly, placing a hand on your forehead.

Taehyung gave you a short smile and a short nod as he jogged up to his spot in front of your section.

How considerate. As the exercises began you were now aware of Taehyung eyes. He tried to act like he was casually glancing at you and not keeping an eye on you. You would love to say it was due to that fact that he thought you were cute, but you knew it was because of the sweat that now adorned your face and the puffs that escaped your mouth. You haven’t exercised properly in ages.

As you continued your moves you were beginning to feel itchiness from the band around your ankles. You lifted the band as much as you can, only to be horrified with the deep red marks imprinted around your ankles. You looked up in shock meeting Taehyung's eyes. He immediately rushed to your side .

“Are you crazy?” He asks you with wide eyes “You need to go change”

“I’m okay” you tried keeping your voice hushed as to contour Taehyung's loud exclamation that had people around you turning their heads.

“No, this is bad,” Taehyung said, trying to find Mino to gain his attention.

“No, No, I’m fine” you hiss at Taehyung “Go away”.

Taehyung ignores you as he stands at high alert waiting for Mino to come to your side. You noticed Jungkook trailing behind him.

As the two men approached, Taehyung simply pointed at your ankles which were lamely covered by your hands.

Jungkook rushes to your side and tries to lift your sweats to see the damage done. If you weren’t so mortified by the attention given by everyone in the class, you would have swooned at his proximity.

“I’m fine” you mumble.

“No,” Mino says, meeting Jungkook’s eye “you should go home. Class is almost finished anyways”.

Feeling defeated your get up to your feet keeping your eyes on the ground. Being this close to them you realized how small you are. You hid behind Jungkook’s body to hide from your class's attention.

“I’m okay” you try to reason with Mino, “just a little tight” you tried to laugh.

“Miss?”

“__”

“___” Mino repeated, “I’m responsible for you in this class and I won’t allow for any injury no matter how small or big. Please, you're excused to go home”.

Slumping your shoulders and keeping your head to the ground you sighed, “Okay”.

In any other situation you would have taken this as a fortunate luxury, a blessing in disguise, but since Jungkook was witness to this (and Taehyung) you felt embarrassed. You didn’t want them to think of you as dumb. I mean you are leaving a boxing class early due to an injury caused by your tight sweats.

“and ___,” he called out to you as you made your way to the door ,”please come to class on time and be properly dressed”.

Yeah, this had to be one of the dumbest moments in your life.

You grumbled your way to your second class of boxing. After the first class, you went home and cried to your roommates about how embarrassing it was. Although you didn’t have time to wallow in your embarrassment due to the difficulty of peeling off the sweats. The girls helped you lather ointment on your red marks. The stinging and itchiness can now be felt with the cool air hitting your skin. You and Minah were scolded by Tara, your other roommate, for putting yourself in danger in “cutting off your damn ankles!”. You tried to protest only to be hushed by Sohee. With the way things were that night it would seem like you and Minah were the kids to your mothers Tara and Sohee. So, to fit into your new role you stuck out your tongue at both of their backs as they left your room and Minah tried to suppress her giggles.

You really didn’t want to go to the next class, but that degree was on the line. What would be your excuse? That you were publicly embarrassed in front of your class?

This time around you made sure to buy some sweats and cute shiny shorts. You will be prepared. Well not that prepared, as you slipped on the shorts you noticed how you didn’t even shave. So, you had to go back to the black sweats you brought.

To your massive egos surprise, no one seemed to care or remember about you. You made sure to arrive 10 minutes early and found yourself with three other early birds. Not even Mino or his helpers were here. You felt a little ridiculous but it’s better than being late. So, you sat against the wall scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass. It was 4 minutes before class when the chatter in the gym began to get louder. You looked up to see that everyone was here including your instructor. You remembered that you had to get the syllabus but now he was surrounded by eager students talking about God knows what. You are aimlessly glancing around trying to find a chance where your instructor could be alone. You slowly made your way closer to the group of seated students. You spotted Jungkook talking to Taehyung. They were also getting crowded by students. You watched how Jungkook walked over to the mats with one of the students and began to demonstrate something with his feet. Your guessing it’s his feet with how everyone is staring at his feet and he keeps looking down as he talks. You are admiring the way he moves his pretty lips as he talks when your vision of him is once again blocked by somebody. A boxy smile. A handsome smile. Taehyung.

You watch him walk over to you with a smile on his face as he waves a sheet of paper in his right hand.

“You need this” he states handing you the class syllabus.

“Yes. Thank you” you reach out for the paper. Your eyes skimmed through the paper making mental notes of the exam dates and random quizzes.

To your surprise you felt Taehyung still standing next to you. Feeling shy all of a sudden you focused more on the text.

“So… why boxing?” he suddenly asks with a gleam in his eye. He stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Why not?” you challenge him, “am I not boxing material?”

“I never said that” Taehyung defends himself, “just trying to make conversation to avoid having to…” he nudges back to where all the students are surrounding Jungkook.

You stop yourself from snorting, “I need it to graduate”

“Oh, you’re a senior?” he asks with interest.

“Yup, with a physical requirement I didn’t know I needed till the last minute”.

“So, this was the only option” Taehyung looks at you with pity understanding the lack of enthusiasm in your voice as you tell him your sad tale.

“It’ll be fun” he says with a smile” just look like you're trying and you’ll pass”.

You shrug and give him a smile. He was nice.

“Listen you don’t have to try hard and with everyone else you’ll be average. Trust me, this is my second year helping the beginner’s course. I’ve seen worse. A lot of freshmen who are over their heads”.

You laughed at that “It’s cute though, right?” you joked with him.

“Yeah, it’s cute, until they hurt themselves. All fired up kids,” Taehyung thought for a moment,

“actually it's embarrassed freshmen and then fired up second years that think they matured overnight or something”

You laughed at his analogy, remembering the cockiness that came from some of your classmates of sophomore year.

“You’re so right” you said, clapping your hands laughing.

Taehyung laughed along with you, “honestly though I wouldn’t mind going back. To be a bit naïve. Thinking of graduating makes me nervous”

“aww” you cooed at him reaching over to pat his arm.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, this time at you.

“What are your plans?” you ask him.

“Art Courier”

“Art” you ask surprise.

“Yea” he smiles, “I love it. I’m also volunteering at an art gallery downtown. Its local art, it’s nice”

“So why are you nervous?”

He looks at you, “Aren’t you?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I got an internship out of town. I’m hoping to stay there for a short while. Then I want to come back to Kim Corp.”

He smiles at you, “Those are big plans”.

“Yeah… but yeah, I guess I’m nervous but like an exciting kind” you tilt your head, “like butterflies or dragonflies in my stomach”

“Dragon flies? that’s new” he chuckles, “mine are like crashing waves so sometimes it gets nauseating”, he pouts slightly thinking hard, “it’s exciting”. He sighs, “the truth is I’m applying for a master's and I just turned in my last application, so it’s this waiting period”.

“Ahhh, I see” you pat his shoulder once more giving him a smile, “good luck!”

Taehyung smiles back at you turning his full body to face you “thanks, you too”.

“Taehyung!”

Taehyung's name being called interrupted your mutual understanding of senior nervousness and friendship that was forming between the two of you. You lifted your head to the voice that interrupted such a sweet moment. Your eyes were ready to squint at the rude person, but they only softened upon finding the irritated face of Jungkook.

“Oops, got to go, seems like those fired up sophomores are getting to him” Taehyung whispers to you before he jogs up to a furrowed brow Jungkook who is still surrounded by eagerly waiting students. You wait for him to possibly shift his glance towards you. Readying a reassuring and “haha, yikes'' face to show him. However, he kept his gaze locked on Taehyung till he arrived at his side. You pout as you give up and stuff your syllabus into your bag.

Later that evening while the class was practicing a two step footwork you notice Jungkook teaching a student a few rows ahead of you. You watch carefully as he slowly makes his way down to your back corner. Is this your time? The moment in which you have him all alo-on-ne, to have a “private conversation" with him. You hoped. Jungkook was examining the student in front of you. You were next. You lowered your head focusing on your feet. You tried to remain calm even though the anticipation of talking to him was weighing down on you. You stole a quick glance at his feet, they were headed towards you. Here it goes.

“Hey Jungkook!”

Oh my gosh.

“Jungkook, Am I doing it right?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You lifted your head to see Jungkook making his way to the kid next to you. There Jungkook goes helping those eager hogging students that take any second with Jungkook away from you. Should you also feign ignorance to the movements in class? Even though you’re sure you probably really do need the extra attention. However, those kids just want to be praised by the “cool" Jungkook. You just want to talk to him.

The following weeks had no progress both with your boxing and with Jungkook. Thankfully your friendship with Taehyung grew as you both would be catching up with each other before classes. And you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Jungkook try to make his way over to you guys only to be stopped by some over achievers. You once asked Taehyung why he doesn’t teach the kids only for him to say he doesn’t need the experience unlike Jungkook who is majoring in Exercise Science (and a minor in art, which is where they meet and become friends). You only huffed in response and told him to give him a break. Taehyung just shrugged and went back on his phone. The talks with him were fine. Taehyung had good humor and amazing story telling skills, once in a while he would reveal subtle information about Jungkook. You would try to slyly ask him questions about Jungkook. You found yourself knowing a little about him every day.

One of the most amazing days though was when you were coming out of the bathroom after class and you overheard Taehyung’s unforgettable laugh and Jungkook’s -surprising- high pitched laughter. You walked slowly towards the divine laughter. You had to hide yourself behind a pillar when you saw them stop before an elevator.

“Those sophomores are so competitive! Hmmm… It reminds me of someone” Taehyung says jokingly, tapping his finger on his chin.

Jungkook shoves him playfully.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding” Taehyung raises his hands in defeat before Jungkook could put him into a headlock. Their rough playing is stopped with the "ding" sound of the elevator doors.

The "ding" also reminds you of what you were doing: hiding behind a pillar like a loser and overheating these guys. At this point it was odd since you were actually friends with one of them. I mean you did have Taehyung’s number and he would occasionally text you to tell you when he (or Jungkook) would not be in class.

You slowly inched your foot, not trying to make noise. You were ready to leave but halted when you heard Jungkook’s voice as they headed inside the elevator.

“So, what did you and __ talk about this time?”

HUH

Did he?

“Oh, I told her about your obsession with banana milk”

“Taehyung!”

Is all you heard before the doors closed.

Okay… what was that about?

Did they talk about you?

Was this an ongoing thing? Taehyung never told you about Jungkook’s supposed obsession with banana milk (cute by the way). Does this mean anything?

You groan as you make your way back to your apartment. Your head was spinning Did he…or did he not? Or did Taehyung just tell him once about all your “interesting” conversations that

Jungkook just routinely started asking him about it?

Your heart thumped at all the possibilities.

Whatever the reason it seemed he had an okay opinion about you. Right? I mean the best outcome you can hope is to be his friend because from what you see in class, and what you’ve heard from Taehyung, Jungkook does seem like a cool and genuine guy. And you’re not doing him (or Taehyung) any justice by eavesdropping on their conversations and following them. At that moment you decided to stop your shy approach and borderline creepy behavior towards him. You were an adult for goodness sake not a love-struck teen. You were going to be more direct!

Your heart raced miles at your final decision.

The next couple of days you began your new resolution by approaching Jungkook first. Your conversations weren’t as complex nor were they as comfortable as with Taehyung. A light tension always seemed to linger as if you both had your own elephants roaming around the room. You ignored it as much as you could. You were grateful for when Taehyung was around to break the tension. This would lead to the three of you to develop a more easy-going conversation. You were just happy that you were able to learn things about Jungkook directly and not through a second source.

All this progress seemed to have gone down the drain one night when you were practicing a new defensive pose. Jungkook came up to you to slightly adjust your arms into the proper distance from your face and body. He smiles afterwards, urging you to feel the difference. You proudly do your complete pose and suppress a giggle when his smile widens. He’s so mesmerizing. Mino was out of the gymnasium, quickly running off saying he need to go to his office. So, you took this opportunity to have Jungkook all to yourself. You were less reserved around him now and were ready to break some more of the barriers between you two. It starts with you two laughing over Taehyung's obvious lie of pretending to be busy. He’s looking over some papers on the clipboard at the front of the matts. You wanted to see Jungkook laugh again as he jokingly comments on the students in front of Taehyung who are trying to get his attention.

“It’s all these fired up Sophomores” you began, hushing your voice as if telling him a secret.

“they’re so competitive and eager to please as if they are being paid to be here. All these little kids will soon face the real world and realize that no one cares”.

Jungkook nervously places his hand behind his neck, “Some of them have potential...”, he hesitantly mutters.

You snort, “potential or not. All little kids, sorry, sophomores are the same. They are all so overly passionate. I feel bad for them once they realize that there will always be someone better, prettier, and bigger than them out there. Haven’t we learned that by now?”.

You turn to Jungkook upon seeing his straight face. You must admit it wasn’t one of your best attempts of comadeire, but the way he was acting seemed like you offended his mother. You were about to apologize and voice your concern when Jungkook nervously laughs.

“Yeah, well…” He chuckles again defeatedly. “…there’s always someone better…”.

“Jungko-“

“I see you have all been working diligently as I was gone! Thank you! As a reward I think we should run a few laps around the gym”.

Jungkook skedaddles away at the voice of Mino. You’re left confused, pondering over your conversation. Can he not stand unfunny people? Were you really that bad? Did he find you to be some bitter old bully?

Once the class is over you jog up to Taehyung and Jungkook before they could get onto the elevators.

You wanted to make sure you were good with Jungkook. You knew you would be up all weekend trying to figure out what went wrong. You know it was something you said. Did he not like your joke? were you being a bit too mean? You didn’t mean it too much. It was just something Taehyung always joked about, so you thought it would be okay to do so as well. Making your way up to them you say the first thing that comes to your mind

“Hey, are you guys going to the Senior Party?” This senior party was for seniors only (unless you were a plus one) hosted by all the frats of school. They all come together to make a huge block party that is honestly favored upon by many and has everyone going.

“hmm not sure” Taehyung says, “Maybe, I’m kind of over frat parties”.

“Yeah…, but this IS the last Ho-rah”. Taehyung shrugs at your response.

“How about you?” you turn to face Jungkook making sure to make eye contact, afraid he’ll look away and avoid you as he has done for the rest of the class period.

Jungkook looks you straight on furrowing his eyebrows, “Why should I go?” he asks almost coldly.

“Oh” okay he hates me, you thought to yourself. “Well, I mean everyone usually goes”, you respond to him with a much more quitter voice now that all your confidence has disappeared.

“It’s only for seniors. I’m a Sophomore”.

Sophomore.

WHAT!?

Your mouth fell agape. And you only half registered Taehyung laughter as he smacks your back,

“____, didn’t you know Jungkook is a baby”.

You knew he was baby. You didn’t realize he was a baby.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung's comment.

“I didn’t...I-I’ You stuttered “ Aren’t you in the advanced class and have all these achievements and- and”.

“Yeah” Jungkook sourly smirks “I guess I’m just like all those overly passionate kids”.

Taehyung laughs as if not catching the tone in Jungkook’s voice or the nervous energy you are sure that can be detected from miles away.

“He’s the king of the sophomores! Why do you think they are always crowding him like he’s their hero”.

“Right…” you look down on the floor. You didn’t offend his mother, you offended him. You’ve insulted him.

“Okay, well I’ll see you guys in the next class, Bye” you turn fast around and start speed walking home. You only faintly catch Taehyung’s boisterous “Bye!”.

This all makes sense, the students crowing him like he’s a king, him being insulted by your unfunny comment, Taehyung always picking on him. But the thing is that Taehyung CAN pick on him because they are friends, he’s teasing him. You are not friends with him. You have no right to talk to him or joke with him like that. Your stress levels rise because you never want to hurt someone, much less intentionally. He probably thinks you’re some big bully and know it all. Imagine what he has told Taehyung by now. What if you get shunned by both of them? This is so embarrassing, and you feel awful. You shouldn’t have run away. You should have confronted Jungkook and apologized to him. You should have cleared the air. But at that moment you were so confused and surprised your head was everywhere. Forget dating Jungkook he probably wouldn’t even want to be friends with you anymore.

All of your woes were heard by your three roommates on your living room floor. Picking at your blue fuzzy carpet you retold them everything. They first got mad at you for not telling them about these two good looking guys in your class and then they got even more mad at you for making a

lame joke that insulted Jungkook and then running away.

“You need to talk to him ___”

“You said: ‘Overly passionate sophomores, little kids’. Who even talks like that?”.

Taehyung does you want to point out but instead remain quiet as they continue their criticism and advice.

“Yeah, talk to him! Don’t even think about how you insulted the poor guy!”

“or how you said an odd and unfunny joke”

You never thought about dating young guys. You were always into the older type. You ask your friends about what you should do. They give you the advice you already knew inside your heart. Talk to him, apologize, and go for it.

You remembered that Jungkook is sporty and artsy. The Art building was your first stop. You don’t know his schedule and frankly you don’t want to know it. It would make you feel like a total creep if you knew it and purposely went looking for him. You didn’t want to repeat the ugly feeling you felt after the eavesdropping incident at the elevators. Instead you conceded with a coincidence. This was less guilty.

You entered the Student museum and browsed the artwork. You were so excited to see one of Taehyung’s art pieces hanging in display that you quickly took a photo of it and texted it to him. You momentarily forgot about what had happened. You hesitated to look at your phone after feeling its vibrations indicating Taehyung had replied. You quickly found the nearest restroom which wasn’t easy given you’ve never been inside this building. You entered a stall and opened the text. You were greeted with a “You should have told me you were going to be there I just left Campus” accompanied with two crying emojis. You felt a sigh of relief, as if you can breathe again. Taehyung is not mad at you. You replied with compliments and several hearts that Taehyung gleefully returned.

Your mornings were spent waiting in between classes in the student lounge, in the Art building, and walking laps around the Sport’s building and Gymnasium. You even peeked at the pool only to be flashed with multiple water polo swimmers climbing out of the pool. You blushed running away after making eye contact with the swimming coach. During the night when you had boxing, everything seemed like the beginning of the semester. You would talk with Taehyung as you always would but Jungkook…he was different. He would acknowledge you and would occasionally join you and Taehyung, but he wouldn’t be alone with you anymore. If he ever was he would just stay with you in silence. It would be such a peaceful quietness if you weren’t so confused and nervous on what his opinion of you was. You wanted to apologize to him, but he became much more competitive and almost aggressive during demonstrations. You felt this new form of intimidation towards him. Was he trying to send you a message? No, of course not. It was probably just finals. Most people were on edge during this time.

In the last month of the semester you coincidently found out (thanks to the students in class) that Jungkook has a drawing class 30 minutes after your last class on Friday. With this new information you made plans to sprint over to the Art building to meet Jungkook.

You were just walking down the hall of your building when you spotted… Jungkook?

Interesting.

Is this fate?

This is the time.

He stops next to a class door and leans against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone. You notice then his huge army backpack. For boxing class, he brings a big black duffle bag. This backpack caught you for surprise. You stopped in your tracks staring at the backpack because you’ve seen it before. Plenty of times. In the library, the parking lot, the convenience store in front of the east campus. You’ve sometimes seen it by just passing by. The bag was so big and almost ridiculous that you’re sure most of the student body knows of it. To think that the bag belonged to Jungkook. You’ve never bothered to look at the owner and when you did, they were either far away, at an angle in which you can’t see them, or they had a bucket hat or hoodie over their face. All this time it was Jungkook. To think if you’ve looked or spoken to the person you would have known Jungkook way sooner. All this wasted time.

Is this the coincidence you were dreaming of? Does any of it mean anything? At this point you don’t care. You’re going to talk to Jungkook! Whatever opportunity that is presented to you, you are going to take. You’re almost close to Jungkook, who doesn’t notice you as he’s immersed on his phone, when the classroom door opens with pouring students. You're slightly worried he’s going to leave as the students start obscuring your clear view of him. However, what you don’t miss is the way a pretty girl stops in front of him. He looks up to her and smiles shyly. You can’t really see her face at this angle. You only notice the way Jungkook takes her books from her and follows behind her as she walks to the opposite direction from you.

You felt like you were in a movie. You know the type when the main character is standing in one place and all around her there’s blurs of people moving about. The screen is colored gray and there's sad music playing as you're left there in a daze.

O-kay.

So.

Jungkook has a …he has a… (you can’t’ say it).

Jungkook is-what?

Dating? Has a girl? Not available? Hmmm, maybe he’s not interested in you.

Walking back to your apartment so many questions and conclusions flow around in your head.

Did you ever stop and think he maybe just wasn’t into you? Like what if he just didn’t like you? And not in a bad way. He just doesn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with you. And here you were thinking he was lucky you were even considering a younger guy like him. Please. Who do you think you are? You’ve acted so arrogant and bitter around him you’re surprised someone as sweet as Taehyung and Jungkook even talks to you.

Reaching your apartment and heading straight to the shower, because the shower is where you make all your final resolutions and get all your ideas, you’ve come to the resolution that you need to stop moping around in class. Second, you like Jungkook, like-like. Third, you are heart broken. And lastly, maybe it’s just not meant to be.

Sometimes things can be blessings in disguises.

You cried in the shower.

Your beautiful roommates were once again there to support you! They even surprised you that weekend by having a little party amongst you and your closest friends. Irene, Maria, Seokjin, Yoongi, and even Mr. Busy Chef Seokjin came along. It was fun and you got drunk. You are going to be okay. You are going to forget Jungkook. It’s the end of the semester anyway and you are leaving town after graduation. It’s for the best.

Right?

Wrong.

Wrong on all parts. You very much like Jungkook. It was confirmed the next time you went to boxing class when your heart didn’t stop thumping. And wrong because you aren’t going to let it go. You felt ridiculous and pretty whore-ish when you still found yourself smiling at him (and did you coyly laugh at his joke just now?) even after knowing he has a girlfriend/ partner/dating/something. (A voice in your head was whispering into your heart that nothing is confirmed yet).

“Jungkook”, you called out his name after the announcements in class. You ran to him and staked your claim on him before anyone else can take him away from you, “Jungkook, can you help me with the exercise from last class, please?”.

He agreed. You walked behind him as he was already heading to your claimed corner. You noticed the disappointed faces of some of your classmates. Taehyung also had a confused face on as he was heading your way for you two to possibly gossip at your corner.

Jungkook helped you with your placements and speed. It was honestly helpful even if you did laugh a bit too loudly or moved in a way you hoped was sensual. At one point you ran out of things to hold him back with, so you must admit defeat and let him go. You smiled at him wildly as he moved to the next student. It was the last month, it wasn’t going to lead anywhere anyways. Which is why you’re trying your best. You were going to see him, talk to him, simply be by him because you’re probably never going to see him again after this.

You connect eyes with Taehyung as he’s walking directly to you. You both held a staring contest till he reached your side. He squints at you. You made a face of a “what”.

He coughed, “So…uhh…you like Jungkook or...?”

You choked on your spit. Were you that obvious?

“Huh? No. What? N-why?”

Taehyung looks at you, “ No reason, just asking.”

He slowly inches away clearly trying to make you less nervous. So, you force your body to relax and just laugh at his antics.

The rest of the class period Taehyung kept sending you looks or raising his eyebrows. You were nervous but soon started to become defensive. You would occasionally mouth “What” at him. Until at the end of class, he finally walked up behind you and whispered “Jungkook”. You jumped back in surprise at his deep voice and most importantly at the name of the owner of your heart.

“Taehyung!” you yelled at him. He laughed, only to stop when Jungkook joins you two. You blushed again and started rubbing your arm afraid Taehyung would tease you again. You all went to gather your things and headed towards the exit to leave class. Taehyung taps your arm to grab your attention. He made the motion of sealing and locking his lips, making it even more noticeable! Your eyes averted to Jungkook only to feel a wave of relief at seeing him typing away at his phone. Thank God.

You give him a face. He chuckles at you.

“Bye__” he said walking away. You rolled your eyes.

“Bye __” Jungkook said with his sweet melodic voice. You smiled at him.

It was the night of the Senior Party and you were ready to forget all about the cute guy in your boxing class. No, not Taehyung but Jungkook. Since you found out about his girlfriend you’ve tried hard to rewire your brain to think of him only as a friend. It was easy because he was such a gentle person. He was kind and funny and so very ambitious. You’ve grown to admire him in many ways. You were happy at where your relationship was (even though you would still like to be involved with him…*cough*romantically….). You weren’t going to be no homewrecker even if it pains your heart to see him smile or see him ruffle his bouncy hair.

Who are you kidding? You are in love with him.

However tonight you are going to forget about him. Tonight was about finally graduating and having a fun night with your friends. You, your roommates and other friends all meet up at a local restaurant before the party. It was fun there stuffing your faces and emptying your glasses, you almost forgot about the party. So, before the buzz faded away you all slipped into an uber off to the streets of the Frats and Sororities that are hosting the party. You were sad that Taehyung wasn’t going to be there. You wanted to introduce him to your friends. A few months ago, he told you he wasn’t going to go and instead booked a trip up North to go camping with his friends Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok. Friends who were equally as handsome you thought to yourself last night as you scrolled through his Instagram feed and viewed his story. You should’ve accepted his invite when he jokingly asked you to tag along. Maybe then you would move on from…him.

With your short skirts, dresses and skinny jeans you all swayed into the blockparty-eque event. The music was loud and there were so many people dancing and running around.

“This is practically a carnival, we're only missing the rides” Sohee shouts over the music.

“Lets just go to the main house” you yell back at them.

You all walk the short distance to the largest house in the block, the main source of the party where the DJ, drinks and food is located. Inside the house was empty of furniture leaving every room as a makeshift dance platform.

“This looks complicated!” Sohee complains furrowing her eyebrows “Where do we even begin”

“Lets just look around!” Taeyeon excitedly states turning her head around. You were prepared to see her make a 360 turn. She was Minah's friend who you were surprised to see come to the party. She was a Junior and it wasn’t until the girls told you that night that plus ones were allowed regardless of their year so long as they are students at the University. If you would’ve known you would have “jokingly” invited Jungkook.

After scoping out the house, your group ended up stealing a bag of chips and red cups of lemon soda and vodka. You decided to go to the house next door which belonged to a sorority. (“Maybe they’ll have better drinks” Minah complained).

Entering the house was like a new world, the lights were off and the music was not blaring. It seemed more chill. You walked deeper into the house that had a great atmosphere. Upon entering the kitchen you see the island decked out in different snacks and even mini cupcakes. There is flavored beers and a variety of vodkas, tequilas, juices, and soda. You’ve all shared glances with smiles in your faces. This is your place. You've all grabbed your drinks and you managed to fit two mini cupcakes in your hands before you made your way into the main living room, which like the frat house, was bare of any furnishing. Leaning against the wall with Minah who grabbed cotton candy you sipped on your drinks as you watched the others invade the dance floor.

“You think this was supposed to be a private party?” She asks cutting off a chunk of her cotton candy to feed you.

You thought for a second letting the candy melt in your mouth.

“No,” you told her, meeting her eye. You both laughed. “It would be really stupid if it was, I mean it is the Senior Party thing”.

“Yeah but what if it is and they kick us out”.

You shrugged “Whatever were gone in two weeks anyways. Besides it's on them for hosting it on the same night”.

“I don’t know” Minah continued out with her cotton candy slipping her drink in between each bite. You weren’t sure if she was drunk and just saying something or was actually concerned. You peered your eyes on her face as if to see her better. She was zoned out.

Rolling your eyes you start to look around trying to see your dancing group of friends to join them. You were done with your cupcakes and were ready to drag yourself to them. You thought you saw the Blue sparkle of Tara’s dress. You focused more on the spot only to see these blue sparkles wearing Tara seeming to be dancing or should I say “hugging” someone.

"Oh my gosh, ! LOOK LOOK!” you said slapping Minahs arm.

“What?", she said, trying to catch what you're looking at.

“Tara! She's got herself-“ Your words died in your mouth. For as your eyes traced along this person dress they were meant with a head that did not belong to Tara. First, poor Tara who has the same dress as someone in this room. Second, this person is none other then that girl that Jungkook was with. Your mouth was stood agape for even if your heart broken at the reminder of that girl and the fact that Jungkook was not yours. Your heartbreak and slight jealousy was soon replaced with confusion and then anger. Isn’t this Jungkook's girlfriend? What is she doing grinding on someone who is not Jungkook? No, this guy was not him because you know this guy! He's the famous school pianist whose faces are plastered all over the music building and concert highlights. Min Yoongi. What is she doing? So because Yoongi is a school celeb she's just going to do Jungkook wrong like that. Pretty Jungkook, who smiled at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and carried her books around like some servant. Is your poor baby being played? How dare she? Does she not realize how blessed she is?

“Minah”, you hand her your drink, “wait here”.

You don’t bother for her response and only hear a “what?”

You don’t have time to fill her in about this snake because your adrenaline is pumping in. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's your devotion towards Jungkook. All in the name of love. And if you're not going to be kicked out because it's a private party, you'll probably be kicked out for fighting. You didn’t take boxing for nothing.

Okay…

Maybe not. You're not sure what you're doing and even though you're angry and feel like you need to regain Jungkook's honor, you do have the same part of your brain working and yelling at you to turn back. What the hell do you think you are doing? And who the hell do you even think you are?

You could be on your way to making a complete fool of yourself. But no, you will do anything for Jungkook. Even if it turns out this person is Jungkook's girlfriend's twin and you reveal yourself to be a complete stalker and weirdo.

Your steps seem to move slowly and your skin burning hot from your anger now turns to anxiety. But it was like you couldn’t stop as you neared yourself to her. If you couldn’t confess to Jungkook this was an alternative outlet. By protecting his dignity.

Gosh, is it hot or are you just sweating?

And like a miracle sent from heaven you felt a cold hand wrap itself around your arm halting you in your steps. You tuned your head to see… JUNGKOOK?

“___” he says almost relieved.

You're confused and agaped. You're so caught off guard that you don’t manage to hide your opening mouth.

“Hey” he says softly, almost whispering. He quickly removes his hand around your arm.

His voice brings you back to reality. He always grounds you and neutralizes the nerves in your body. All by being near Jungkook's smiling face.

His smiling face that will soon turn bad. Your stress increases. Your eyes jump from his face to his girlfriend who is still dancing on Yoongi. Jungkook follows your eyes as he notices the stress evident on your face. What's wrong? Jungkook slightly steps in front of you as if to shield you from whatever your eyes keep returning to.

You reach out your hand trying to stop Jungkook from seeing the scene of his girlfriend dancing with another guy, but it's too late. Jungkook is staring ahead for a couple seconds.

Jungkook looks around trying to see what is catching your attention. He catches the sight of his cousin dancing on some guy. Putting a childish face on when she turns her head over to make out with him. Jungkook turns back to you with concern on his face at your still evident distress.

You watch as Jungkook quickly turns around. You see his concerned eyes and frowned lips. No, not to Jungkook. This won't happen to him, you wont allow it. Regaining your energy to confront this snake you move closer to him

“I’m sorry”

“So you want a drink?”

Is he trying to change the subject? Maybe they just broke up and you just reopened his wound.

You give him a smile of sympathy and pull him in for a hug. Yes, you were being forward but you are proud to admit that you didn’t hug him with any malicious or secretive motive. You just care for him so much that you want him to always be happy. You don’t know what happened between him and his girlfriend but you want him to know that he has you. That it is okay.

Jungkook stills in your embrace. You hug him tighter and are happy to finally feel him relax into your hug wrapping his arms around your lower body.

Jungkook is surprised and perhaps dreaming. When you jumped into his embrace he almost didn't know what he did to earn this. Your perfume was swaying in his brain until he saw the teasing expression on his cousin's face.

She winked at him, which caused his cheeks to heat up. So he quickly pulls away from you and coughs.

“So uhh, no drink?” he asks once more unsure of what to say.

You saw his blushing face, maybe you did too much but you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing when you heard a loud laugh at your side. You turn and sure enough see her laughing with the guy.

You step closer to Jungkook so you could whisper slowly to him, "Did you guys break up?”

Jungkook tilts his head in confusion but before he can continue you stop him.

“Its okay you don’t have to tell me, I’m sorry”

“__what are you sorry for?”

You nod your head towards her who continues to dance with the “other man”.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you after having looked in the direction that you head nodded towards. You see the confusion settle onto his face, waiting for you to continue whatever observation you are trying to make.

You decided to end his misery, 'He's obviously too embarrassed to admit it' you thought to yourself.

"I saw you guys together...", you say, trying your best to say the rest with your eyes. You watch as the realization hits his face. His lips formed a tiny 'oh', only to let out an "ah" followed by a short chuckle.

Following his amused response you felt embarrassed. Maybe you stepped out of line and he's going to thank you for rubbing salt into his wounds.

"Sorry" you blurt out trying to save what's left of the respect Jungkook has for you. " I should've stayed quiet..".

At this Jungkook laughs loudly only ending it with a...a coo? He leans closer to your ear so you can hear him clearly.

"Follow me"

You don't got to be told twice.

You follow him through the throngs of people, pass the kitchen, through the back door. You almost tumbled out the door but was captured by the cold air hitting your skin. You rub your arms weary of letting Jungkook see because you didn't want him to reconsider the whole idea and go back inside. You wanted to be alone with him out here. it was nice. You followed him to the bench that rocked back and forth. It was gray with a top cover. He sat on it waiting for you to join him as he tried his best to stabilize the bench by planting his feet to the ground. You gave him a small 'thanks' as you settled yourself next to him. You made sure to keep enough space between the two as to not make him uncomfortable.

Jungkook felt his heart beat in his chest a contrast to the cool night that was at a standstill compared to the house and loud music not only a few feet away. He was grateful for the noise and lights that came from the house and fencing of the backyard, as it gave his shaky breath a cover from being heard by you. He sneaked a glance at you and saw as you sat seated next to him. You followed him out here into the cold. He noticed as you rubbed your hands on your arms. At this point Jungkook knows what comes next. He should offer you his jacket, but he wasn't wearing anything. He opted for a button down, he had no reason for any other fabric. He thought he would spend most of the night in a packed house or street with so much body heat. He felt like a kid scared to look at their crush. He didn't know what to do from this point on. Having a surge of confidence at the probability that you cared for him. If you being concerned about his alleged heartbreak was anything to go by. Jungkook wants to hold onto the care you had for him no matter how small it was. He knew you were a senior who was set to go out of town. His dreams of being with you seemed like a lost hope by now. At this point he just wanted to stay by your side, just to talk, even if just for a day.

One thing Jungkook became sure of as you both stared silently at the moon was that this right here was more than he could have ever wished for.

You were the one to break the silence.

You figured you should clear the air after your assumptions.

"So how are you holding out?"

Jungkook was about to give you a generic answer until he remembered what happened inside.

"I feel perfect" he answered honestly

You give him a confused look.

Man, you thought for sure Jungkook would be heartbroken, now you're thinking of the possibility that he left her.

Jungkook suppressed his giggles and decided to come clean to you. To tell you the truth. That's all he wants for the both of you.

"You know you can come to the senior bash if you're invited by a senior"

You nod not sure where this is going.

"I asked my cousin to let me go with her" Your eyes widened

Cousin?

"I was going to go with Taehyung but he had other plans. My cousin said yes...with the condition that I become her "assistant", Jungkook makes air quotations at the word. You smiled at the playful annoyance. "So I helped her with her courses, and followed her around everywhere. Honestly". He leans in closer pointing at the colorful lights that adorned the roof of the house. "You see those lights? I hung them up all yesterday and when you go inside that dessert table was recently bought from Ikea, I had to set it up". He slumps his shoulders.

"So was it worth it?" you ask not helping the giggles that escape your mouth at his behavior.

Jungkook turns to face you. The first time you both make eye contact since reaching the bench.

"Yeah" he says softly, "I'll say it was worth it".

You avert your eyes and turn your face. A struggle but your fear of letting him see the absolute shyness you knew ozed out won over. You needed to protect yourself and most importantly him. You didn't want to scare him or offend him anymore then you already have.

Not wanting to lose the momentum of the conversation, Jungkook spurts out the first thing in his mind.

"So where are you going after you graduate?"

For some reason you didn't want to answer. It would make it way more real. The fact that you wouldn't see him anymore and that hurt. At that moment with the distant music that pouned throughout the earth, with the laughter you hear from inside the house, the light of the moon and lights from the house, the coldness that you feel around your arms and neck become fuel for you. If this was going to be your last moment with him then you should make the best out of it. Maybe even let yourself become vulnerable in every sense of the word. If just for one day, you wanted to be completely honest and open with Jungkook.

"I got an internship two hours away" you say looking at the ground, "I'll be kind of far, but maybe not so much" you don't know what you're saying, mostly just trying to convince yourself. You looked at him and are willing to say he looked almost sad. You don't know why he looks down now. You just know it made you feel worse. You want your time with him to be happy and fun. Even if it hurts later. You don't know why hes sad and you may make yourslef look completely stupid but in this moment you wieghed your options. If he answers positively you can leave with hope. If it's negative...well...at least you won't have to see him again. That thought makes you frown and scares you. It scares you so much that you couldn't even stop yourself from asking the next question if you tired.

"Do you want to wait for me?"

You both look surprised at your question.

Jungkook remains silent, so you repeat the question already feeling the adrenaline rush from your confession.

"Jungkook, do you want to wait for me?" You ask him again with hopeful eyes.

"Ar-are you pr-proposing?" He was so in shock he didn't have time to register his childhood stutter to make an appearance.

Normally you would have been frozen out of embarrassment and shock. Truthfully, you were bewildered at your actions. But it must be the power of the moon that shines above you both. Or maybe it's the alarm in your heart telling you this may be your only chance. You take a breath and give jungkook a soft smile. One that said 'yes I like you and it's okay if you don't'. You watch as he takes a moment to gather himself.

Hmm.. maybe you should have been more clear on your love confession. You were about to open your mouth to explain when he turned his body to face you. He reaches out for your hand to hold it in between his two large ones. You watch as your hands disappear inside of his.

Okay, maybe you were freaking out a little bit.

The warmth from his hands begins to travel from your arm to all of your body. Your heart beating fast against your chest as you decided to finally look him in the eye.

"Why wait?" Jungkook says.

FIN

#jk #jungkook #bts #taehyung #boxing #college au #bts fic #jk fic #jungkook fic

19 notes · View notes

1-800-roflmao · 3 years

Text

Wash Day Delight Pt. 5

Rating: General Audiences

WARNINGS: None

Fandom: Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships: (Papyri Harem) Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Underfell)/Reader, Papyrus (Underswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader

Characters: Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), Blue (US Sans), Stretch (US Pap), Sans (Undertale), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Add. Notes: Reader Is POC - mainly mixed/black coded with thick curly hair. I try to keep descriptions vague. Anyone is welcome to read.

*Papyrus has a moment to himself. Enter Sans, Blue, and Stretch. Edge proposes a toast.

**EDITED SINCE TUMBLR MIXED UP THE PARAGRAPHS

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

Papyrus was practically beaming at the opportunity he had caught by the horns that morning. What a spectacular way to start his day! He’d been only a little worried that she might shoot down his idea. Okay, he had been very worried. Especially considering she had explained she planned to do chores today as well. Thank goodness, his brilliant mind was in tip top shape today! And he didn’t have the little human here to fluster him. It had also been lucky that Blue was there. The excitable version of his brother had been quite eager to help him convince her to come over once he realized who he was texting and what was going on.

“REMIND HER HOW MUCH SHE LOVED OUR MASTER BATH!” “SHE’S SUPPOSED TO BE PAMPERING HERSELF AND RESTING. CHORES ARE NEITHER OF THOSE!” “WE CAN ASSIST HER WITH THOSE CHORES IF THEY REALLY NEED TO BE DONE…” “TELL HER I’LL GET MY BROTHER’S HOODIE FOR HER!”

That last suggestion he remembered had resulted in a long pause before Blue had laughed awkwardly under Papyrus’s questioning and only slightly judging gaze. His judgemental gaze was soon pulled to his phone as she had replied with a wide-eyed emoji and then stars and then finally:

Fluffy: Promise?

He didn’t know whether to be impressed by Blue or disappointed in his friend that it had taken the simple promise of a hoodie to get her to agree so quickly. Was it because it was Stretch’s specifically? There was no way to tell since they had not offered anyone else’s clothing. It stung for some reason. Idly, he rubbed at his sternum to ease the odd pain away as he sent a reply back.

CoolDude: THE GREAT PAPYRUS! AND MALEFICENT BLUE! NEVER BREAK A PROMISE.

CoolDude: WE’LL BE OVER IN JUST A FEW MINUTES TO PICK YOU UP

Fluffy: Could you give me thirty?

Fluffy: I need to get dressed and pack a bag.

CoolDude: OFCOURSE! SEE YOU SOON!

Needless to say, it wasn’t long after the two had convinced her to come over that the whole household was made aware they would have a guest today in the family group chat. Blue had run off to find his brother with a promise to come back in time to go. Papyrus assumed he was going to try and convince his brother to give up his hoodie for the day. They technically didn’t need it till later though. Most likely she would be rushing off to the bathroom as soon as she stepped foot into their home.

Pocketing his phone, he settled into finishing the task Blue had been helping him with. There were only a few more dishes left to clean from their late breakfast--brunch? Was it still technically too early for brunch? Shrugging, he lost himself in cleaning and tried not to watch the clock obsessively. So hyper focused, he didn’t notice his brother shortcutting into the kitchen just beside him.

○●○●○●○●○

Sans just watched Papyrus currently wiping at the same spot on the counter for what seemed the umpteenth time. “hey, bro, think you missed a spot,” he finally decided to make presence known. He was rewarded with very on brand screech as his taller sibling nearly jumped through the ceiling in surprise. Quite a feat considering they had purposely high ceilings.

“SANS!!!” Sans’ lazy perma smile just perked up as his brother stomped a foot and crossed his arms, sockets narrowing. “WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING SHORTCUTS IN THE HOUSE?!” Papyrus scolded, foot tapping away.

“not to,” he answered without a care. His tone said it all. He’d do it again and again. This was a war Papyrus would not win. He bit back a laugh as his brother just sucked in a breath, palms pressed together in a praying motion in front of his teeth. “aw, paps, come on, it’s not that bad,” he pleaded playfully.

“YOU ARE CORRECT,” Papyrus started and Sans arched a brow bone in mild surprise, “IT’S NOT THAT IT’S BAD. IT IS SIMPLY FRUSTRATING THAT YOU HAVE TWO PERFECTLY FUNCTIONAL LEGS AND YET, YOU FIND EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO NOT USE THEM!”

Sans just smiled in turn and that smile just stretched wider as he watched his brother literally flinch and glare even harder. “NO.” His sockets were practically curling with how big his smile was getting as Papyrus continued to command him to cease. It was too late though. It was already in motion.

“just trying to get a leg up on life, bro.” It was like music to his nonexistent ears as Papyrus screeched that signature NYEH! of his. He would have tossed a few more puns his brother’s way, but… “so, what has your spine in a twist?” While he could guess what had his brother stressing--considering a certain human was visiting today--it did not hurt to ask.

His brother’s lazy pun had done its job to lighten his mood significantly. He had expected more, but instead Sans had thrown a curveball. The question was sobering. He wasn’t stressed. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t… right? Picking up the rag he had used to clean the counters, he brought it to the sink and started ringing it out. “MY SPINE IS PERFECTLY ALIGNED AS USUAL, SANS,” he replied, tossing the rag in to a small hamper just outside the connected laundry room.

Silence followed and he could feel his brother’s eyelights boring into his back. “uh huh…” Yeah, that tone said he hadn’t believed a word of it. Rather than pushing with words, his brother had settled for simply staring and tapping at the counter. It was a battle of wills at this point.

Just as the tapping of his brother’s phalanges against the countertop was starting to tick away his resolve, the tension was shattered as Blue reentered the kitchen with his own brother in tow. Papyrus could hear the energetic version of his brother nagging at his lazy self to wash his hoodie before lending it out. Finally turning around, he aimed a bright smile at the swapped brothers; pointedly, he ignored his brother’s judging gaze. “BLUE, I SEE YOU’VE SUCCEEDED IN CONVINCING YOUR BROTHER!” he declared, marching up to the two.

A little amused huff escaped Blue, “DIDN’T TAKE MUCH CONVINCING HONESTLY,” he admitted.

“OH?” Papyrus looked to Stretch for elaboration and the other just gave an easy shrug.

“little miss has been eying my hoodie for a good bit,” he stated, an amused lilt to his voice, “was honestly surprised she never tried to sneak it or ask for it before now.”

“SHE DIDN’T ASK FOR IT,” Papyrus found himself saying before he could think better of it. It wasn’t a lie, but why did it feel like he said something mean. That odd feeling was pressing at his sternum again.

Stretch simply rolled the lollipop held in his jaws from one side to the other. The hard candy clicking gently at the back of his teeth as he leveled a seemingly unbothered stare on his doppelganger, but Papyrus knew no matter how much the slouching brother seemed to act like his brother, he was still a Papyrus and Papyri were more observant than they often let on. He knew those honey colored eye lights were searching for every little cue to put together the puzzle put before him.

“THAT IS TRUE. I DID OFFER IT,” Blue cut in, a shared moment of eye contact between the older brothers missed by the younger.

A little hum could be heard from Stretch as he straightened up with a roll of his shoulders in a mock stretch. “hadn’t meant it to come off like that so let me reword,” he started with a short chuckle. “she’d been wishing on all our sweaters and hoodies,” he amended, his lazy smile pulling up at the corners as he now had to look slightly down at his doppelganger without his usual slouch.

That ugly, heavy feeling wasn’t pressing as insistently after Stretch’s words. “OH…” Papyrus hoped his voice came off as neutral. Sadly, he could feel his magic betraying him as his cheekbones warmed.

“you all can’t tell me you’ve never noticed,” he challenged the room, finally breaking his staredown with Papyrus as he looked to the other two occupants.

Sans was the first to input his agreement with a shallow nod as he leaned on the counter. “she tries to be subtle about it,” he remarked, an easy smile on his face as he rested his chin against his palm, “sneaking little glances here and there, dropping little hints…” His sockets closed with a happy curve as his deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he remembered the offhanded questions and shy beating around the bush their friend opted for instead of simply asking outright to borrow one of their jackets.

Opening his sockets, he resumed watching his brother. His light pink flush had dimmed and he had lifted a hand up to his mouth, digits curled as he seemed to be thinking. He just smiled more as Papyrus seemed to be relaxing as he worked through his thoughts. The more anecdotes they shared, the more his sockets seemed to widen with understanding.

“LET’S NOT FORGET SHE HAD TRIED ACQUIRE YOUR SWEATER JUST LAST NIGHT, CREAMPUFF.” Edge’s voice cut through the chatter. They had all jumped and seemed to move as one to look at the sharp skeleton currently shutting the fridge door. When had he come in? Had they been so engrossed they had somehow missed him coming in? Edge just smirked smugly at all of them as he carried the carafe of lemonade over to the island.

Sans just chuckled and turned his attention back to his brother. His brow bones perking as he saw Papyrus’s smile wasn’t strained anymore and his tense posture had fled. A glance to Blue and the other gave him the tiniest shrug before following it with a sneaky thumbs up. Yeah, everything was good again. Let’s not question it for now. “hey, bro, don’t cha have a guest to pick up?” he commented.

The energetic duo both looked to the clock on the wall. A rather impressive synchronized gasp left the two. “NYEH!” “MWEH!” “WE’RE LATE!!” The smaller skeleton just barely managed to catch the taller by the hand as he went to dash out the door. “SORRY, PAPYRUS! NO TIME FOR THAT!” Blue rushed out an apology before the smell of ozone filled the kitchen and barely a second later they were gone.

○●○●○●○●○

“hey, Edge, mind pouring me a glass of that lemonade?” Stretch had settled at the island with a hopeful smile.

His request was met with a huff as Edge opened the cabinets above and retrieved a glass for himself, “POUR YOURSELF ONE, ASH TRAY.”

The orange clad skeleton just hummed around his lollipop before grabbing the sweet, honey flavored treat by it’s stick and removing it from his mouth. “aww, why not? you poured one for Sans there and he didn’t even ask,” he pouted playfully, gesturing to Sans who was nursing his glass of lemonade just beside him.

“don’t have to ask when you’re-” Both Papyri still in the room shot him a warning glare before he could even finish and he lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “fine, fine , tough room,” he joked. Edge just rolled his eyes, while Stretch let his glare linger a bit longer to make sure Sans didn’t try to sneak it in.

“I REFUSE TO WATCH YOU RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD GLASS OF LEMONADE AGAIN,” the sharper skeleton stated as he poured his own glass and took a sip, sighing at the refreshing taste.

Stretch feigned insult, “i’m not the only one who puts honey in their lemonade, edgelord.”

“NO, BUT I WOULDN’T SAY YOU ARE PUTTING HONEY IN LEMONADE WITH YOU,” Edge started, wrinkles forming on his nose ridge in disgust as he spoke, “NO, WITH YOU IT IS MORE ACCURATE TO SAY YOU PUT LEMONADE IN YOUR HONEY.” He took a long sip like he could taste the sticky sweetness on his tongue and needed to wash it down.

“you got me there,” Stretch popped his lollipop back in his mouth and settled in, laying against the counter with a resigned sigh. He could hear Edge grumbling about how of course he was right. Rolling his lollipop, he moved his attention back to Sans. The prime doppelganger had simply been sitting quietly with an easy smile on his round skull. As if sensing Stretch’s stare, his white eyelights locked with honey colored ones.

“need something, pal?” The words held no threat or warning, just an invitation to ask away.

“what was up with your brother earlier?” Stretch already had a guess. He just wanted confirmation at this point. The stout skeleton apparently had no plans to play along and just shrugged noncommittally.

“no clue what you’re talking about, Stretch,” Sans replied, finishing off his lemonade with a satisfied sigh, “thanks for the drink, Edge.” He sent a genuinely thankful smile Edge’s way before the smell ozone once again filled the room and an empty glass was abandoned on the countertop before a now empty seat.

Edge fought down a smile that tugged at his teeth. It wasn’t too hard with Stretch still in the room though. Currently, the laidback skeleton was watching him with a curious look. “WHAT?” he snapped, scowling as a knowing grin was aimed at him.

“you’re in on it,” the other stated matter of factly.

“I AM IN ON NOTHING. AND QUIT THAT CLUELESS ACT,” Edge snipped, crossing his arms with a cocked hip, “I WAS THERE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE YOUR POSTURING EARLIER.” It had been a surprise to see the usually passive skeleton standing to his full height and purposely towering over their prime version. He cut off Stretch’s denial with a sharp growl, “I WON’T LISTEN TO BULLSHIT, STRETCH.”

Stretch just gave a defeated chuckle as he sat up in his seat. “two for two today, Edge. you’re on a roll,” he commended.

Edge didn’t see nor hear any regret from his alternate. The two simply took a moment to stare each other down. A silent measuring up before the standing skeleton reached up into the cabinets and set down a new glass. Curious honey eyelights watched as a lemonade was poured to only fill half the glass before it was slid over to him with a gentle push.

“what’s this?” Stretch questioned. He leant forward in his seat and tilted his skull as he shifted his stare from the half full glass to Edge who was refilling his own.

“LEMONADE,” he answered smartly and Stretch didn’t bother restrain his rolling eyelights.

“i can see that.”

“THEN WHY ASK?”

“you know that’s not wh-”

“JUST FILL IT WITH YOUR INFERNAL HONEY ALREADY,” Edge snapped, cutting Stretch off with an impatient scowl.

Knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with his darker counterpart, he fished in his pullover pocket and pulled out his signature bear shaped honey bottle. Snapping the top, he upended the bottle over the glass and squeezed. The viscous, thick amber liquid cut through the pale white lemonade and pooled at the bottom of the glass. It took a minute to build the thick layer he wanted and once he was done, Edge handed him a spoon begrudgingly to stir his monstrosity. Finished, he looked to Edge again questioningly only to see the other holding up his glass. The sharp toothed skeleton had a cocky smirk on his skull, “IF YOU’RE SERIOUS ABOUT THAT CHALLENGE EARLIER, JUST KNOW YOU HAVE COMPETITION.”

Stretch was sure his jaw was on the floor as he realized what was going on. He had known the tougher skeleton was soft on their human, but he hadn’t thought it went further than platonic interest. That only left Willow and Mutt from the Papyri who seemed to show no romantic interest. At least he hoped. That may change considering today was the day for surprises. Sucking in a breath, he sat up and raised up his own glass, tapping it against Edge’s with a less intense smirk of his own. “noted,” he acknowledged, “but the true competitor is Creampuff, ya know. you’ve seen those two together.”

Edge nodded. It was hard to miss the looks those two often sent to each other. It could be absolutely suffocating at times to be in the same room as them when they start acting sweet and fluffy. He took a moment before tapping his glass against Stretch’s for a second time, “A SECOND TOAST TO THE IDIOTS FINALLY WAKING UP,” before they each took a sip of their respective drinks.

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Lovelink Fanfic

I’ve been really inspired by Loveline’s soldier boy date, so here’s another chapter. I’ve tagged everyone who clicked like, commented or reblogged the first chapter as it’s a new fandom and there aren’t a lot of ‘us’. If that offends you, please let me know and I’ll take you off the list, absolutely no offence taken xx

Tumblr is borked anyway and I’ll be delighted if half of you get the tags...

Word count 1988

Pairing Albert Bishop/reader

A/N Warnings - it starts to get steamy but no actual sex just yet. My blog is an adult blog so No under 18s please

2 Getting Aquainted

While Albert showered, I all but ran around my bedroom, shoving clothes into drawers and cupboards, kicking shoes under the bed and generally doing my best to convert a messy room into an enticing boudoir. I thanked my lucky stars that I’d changed the sheets and hoovered the floor that morning, even if I hadn’t tidied up. It wasn’t long before I decided it was as good as it was going to get in the time available and dashed through to the kitchen to get tea lights. In the drawer I discovered a packet of fabric faux rose petals and took them back with me to the bedroom, scattering them over the bed and floor and placing the candles around the room.

I quickly changed my cotton nightdress for a slinky slip and a silky robe to go over it, lingering for a moment in my lingerie drawer and picking out a pair of lacy panties. I sprayed a little perfume into the air and stepped forward to let it cling to my clothes and skin, and took a quick look in the mirror, rearranging my hair. From the bathroom next door I heard the water stop, and rushed round carefully lighting the candles and turning off the light.

I arranged myself in a sultry pose on the bed, and waited. Before long there was a firm knock on the door.

‘Enter’ I called, and he came in. Albert had dressed in clean camouflage shirt and pants, and stood to attention just inside the doorway. He saluted sharply, face still impassive as I mentally undressed him. I noted he was barefoot.

‘Reporting for duty Ma’am’ I got up smoothly and moved toward him.

‘At ease, soldier’ He relaxed his stance, but stood still before me. I walked around him, doing my best to slink and brush softly against him. I saw the slightest tremor in his jaw as he stood stock still.

‘Apart from the lack of footwear, you’re very well presented, soldier’ I purred

‘Thankyou Ma’am, I aim to please. I presumed army boots are not required in the bedroom.’ His voice quavered as if he was trying not to laugh. He cleared his throat, stood straighter and set his mouth in a determined line. When he spoke again his voice was steadier ‘What can I do for you, Ma’am?’ I stood in front of him and gently tugged at his lapel.

‘You said you looked good in camouflage, and you weren’t lying, but I’d like to see under the uniform, soldier.’ He lifted his chin and looked beyond me, over my shoulder.

‘Just give me orders and I’ll follow them, Ma’am’ he barked. I sighed. The roleplaying was a little too realistic for my liking, but I was sure I could get him to crack. I stepped back.

‘Take that uniform off, soldier’

‘Yes Ma’am’ He relaxed a little and started to unbutton his shirt.

‘No need to be neat, Private’ He frowned slightly at that.

‘Sergeant, Ma’am’ he corrected me. I pursed my lips

‘You’re whatever rank I tell you, soldier. Is that understood?’

‘Yes Ma’am’

‘As I was saying, private’ I dragged a finger down over his breastbone, and his breath hitched a little. ‘No need to be neat, just drop those combats on the floor’ He nodded, biting his cheek, and carried on unbuttoning his shirt until it revealed his chest and abs, rock hard and lightly peppered with dark hair, and dropped it to the floor. He looked me in the eye, brimming with confidence - he was teasing me, and I needed to kick things up a notch.

‘Soldier, do you want to be on report?’ I frowned

‘No Ma’am’ he was definitely cracking as a grin threatened to break his expression.

‘Then drop and give me ten’ He had a faint smirk on his face as he dropped to the floor and started powering through the pressups – one armed - I’d just ordered, then leapt back up to attention.

‘Very impressive, soldier. Now don’t move unless I say you can’

‘No Ma’am’ He was fighting not to laugh. Well, if he was going to tease, two could play at that game. I stood back and unfastened the belt of my silky robe, letting the front swing open to reveal the slip underneath. I saw him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing, and his faint smile faded.

‘Like what you see, soldier?’ I asked. He nodded, and I wondered how much faster his heart was beating. In the candlelight I couldn’t quite see the veins on his neck, but thought perhaps I was having the desired effect. ‘Do you want to see more?’ I added.

‘Yes Ma’am’ He replied hoarsely. I let the shoulders of the gown drop a little but turned my back, looking over my shoulder as I let it slowly slide down to my waist, pausing before letting it drop to the floor. I turned back to face him, knowing that my nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric of my short slip that just grazed the top of my thighs. He made a faint noise somewhat like a whimper, and I was rewarded by seeing the tenting of his pants as he stood waiting to be told what to do. I sashayed toward him.

‘I must say you’re very good at following orders, soldier’ I said in a sultry tone ‘are you ready for more?’ He swallowed again and nodded

‘Yes Ma’am’

‘Then don’t stop – I told you to get that uniform off, didn’t I?’ I saw him gather himself together, confident in his task. He held eye contact as he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned the front of his combat trousers, pulling at the waistband and bending to push them down to his ankles before stepping out of them. I had already noted his lack of footwear or socks. That was a definite plus, as there is nothing less sexy than a man wearing only socks. He stood in his briefs, hands behind his back so my eye was drawn to his groin.

‘Soldier, did I or did I not tell you to get undressed?’ I snapped.

‘Ma’am, you told me to get out of uniform. These…’ he indicated his boxer briefs ‘are not standard issue, Ma’am’ he smirked. I rolled my eyes - the roleplay was over.

‘Albert…’ I started, exasperated

‘Gotcha’ he grinned ‘Now, do you have any more orders for me – Ma’am?’ I sighed

‘Yes, get over here and kiss me, you big hunk’

‘Don’t have to tell me twice’ he said, and surged toward me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing me to his hard body, his lips claiming mine. It was some time before we broke apart, and my heart hammered in my chest and my legs felt like rubber.

‘How did I do as your commanding officer?’ I asked breathlessly

‘Not bad, but I’d not get much work done if you were my superior’ He nuzzled at my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

‘Oh yes? Tell me more’

‘We’d never get out of the bedroom’ he chuckled. His hand crept under the hem of my slip, his skin cool against mine. He smelled clean and fresh with just a hint of musk. His fingers skimmed over my hips and up to the small of my back, then back down under the lace waistband of my panties. ‘Oh, those feel nice’ he murmured in my ear ‘But you know where I’d like to see them?’ His palm cupped my buttocks and pulled me against his erection. My heart was doing things I’d not felt for a while and I was dizzy with desire.

‘Let me guess - on the floor?’

‘Mmm hmm’ he murmured. ‘I can’t help but notice that you have far too many clothes on’

‘What, just the slip and panties?’

‘Yup, definitely overdressed’ he nuzzled my neck again.

‘You’ll have to let go if you want me to remedy that’ He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. I stood on wobbly legs, and got hold of the hem of my slip, to slowly raise it over my head and drop it to the floor. He took a sharp breath as it passed my breasts.

‘Oh Ma’am’ he said quietly ‘You are perfect’. My heart hammered in anticipation as I stood in my lacy panties and he sat in his boxer briefs

‘We’re even now’ I said huskily ‘What next?’

‘Come closer’ he reached his hand out and I took it. He pulled me nearer, widening his legs and drawing me in so my thighs rested against his and looked up at me. ‘I need to see you naked’ I nodded assent and gasped as he carefully slid his fingers into the waistband of my panties, lowering his gaze to my belly as he slowly drew them down. He groaned as he slid his hands round to my buttocks, continuing until he pushed the flimsy damp fabric down my thighs, and inhaled deeply

‘You smell spectacular’ he sighed as they dropped to my ankles. He looked up at me again ‘I need to know how far you want to go’ he said ‘My control only goes so far’

‘I’m on birth control’ I answered ‘but to be on the safe side…’ he nodded

‘I have protection in my trouser pocket’ he said hoarsely ‘Is that okay?’

‘Yes’ I whispered ‘I want you, Albert. I want all of you’

‘Thankyou Jesus’ he groaned, and let go of me, rolling off the bed and going to retrieve condoms from his trouser pocket. My eyes widened as he produced a pack of twelve. He grinned ‘Better safe than sorry, and I didn’t know if you’d have any’

‘I’d have stocked up if I’d known you were coming’ I said tartly, sitting on the bed to ease my shaking legs. He stood in front of me, his groin at my eye level.

‘So, I need to get rid of these’ he indicated his bulging briefs ‘Wanna help me, or shall I do the honours?’

‘Give me a show, soldier’ I said

‘What the lady wants, the lady gets’

‘So cheesy – get on with it’

‘So ungrateful yet so needy’ he retorted ‘How about some sexy music?’

‘Really?’ I grumbled ‘Just. Take. Them. Off.’

‘Mmm bossy too, I like a woman who knows what she wants’ He laughed at my exasperated expression ‘Okay, okay, message received and understood’ He reached down over his washboard flat abs to slide his thumbs under the elastic in a way that made me wish I’d chosen to undress him. His smile was seductive as he pulled the elastic forward over the bulge. My eyes widened in anticipation, but he turned his back to me, running his thumbs around and drawing his briefs down to expose his buttocks.

‘Oh, nice’ I remarked ‘very firm’

‘You like?’ he said over his shoulder ‘speaking of firm…’ he turned again to face me and pulled the elastic over his straining erection, at last pulling the fabric free of his groin and letting it drop to the floor. I stared at the sight in front of me. Like his build, Albert’s cock was shorter than average, but made up for it in girth. I found myself gaping, wondering how it might feel when he…

‘You know, silence is a little intimidating when a guy shows a girl his junk’ he remarked. ‘I’m pretty sure I complimented you on your physique’

‘I – wow’ I replied, then looked up at him, shaking my head to clear it ‘Very nice, soldier’ He strode toward me

‘More than nice. I’ve been told it’s – and I quote – fucking amazing’

‘That’s a tale I don’t want to hear’

‘Well, I didn’t want you to think I’ve never used it before’

‘The thought never entered my mind. Now get over here and prove it, soldier’

@kittidot @bobasheebaby @jaxsmutsuo @ramseyswifey @otakufangirl-12 @mostly-tessaandscott @aestheticallypleasing5sos @sunflowy @celiamcg @basicallysailormars @fabi-en-ciel @rdjcoldplay @cyn-onlyyou @american-satanxx @exxtrastout @callmeluna7 @theclowneryqueen @speedyoperarascalparty

#lovelink #lovelink fanfic #albert bishop

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sisterpiranha · 3 years

Text

What to do when you nemesis gets a boyfriend and doesn't have time for your rivalry anymore?

I woke up today and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. So I had to write it. Also. this is inspired in a post I've read on tumblr some time ago, but I can't find it now. If somebody knows what I'm talking about and has it at hand, let me know!

Also, yes, the first few paragraphs are just exposition. And this is completely self-indulgent and completely not serious. Not really sorry.

Nobody beta this but my own conscience.

Summary: Johnny gets a boyfriend and Daniel's whole world is shaken.

Pairing: Johnny Lawrence/Daniel Larusso (endgame), Johnny Lawrence/omc

Rating: No sex, but there’s some explicit language, I guess.

CHAPTER 1

Six months after Kreese was arrested and Johnny Lawrence got Cobra Kai back, things seemed to have gone back to normal. Daniel still wasn't happy about the other dojo, but he could now at least accept that it wasn't the same toxic place it had been in his youth. And the San Fernando valley was certainly big enough for both.

The two men reached an uneasy truce, that went as far as to refer students to the other dojo when they thought their philosophy was better suited for them.

And sure, he was now divorced, living on his own in an apartment. And he had also become little more than a figurehead in his own business. But it was fine, everything was fine. He was doing what he loved. Amanda and he had agreed to keep the relationship amicable. And his new place was closer to Miyagi-Do. He was, in short, generally happy.

When the date of the All-Valley Karate Championship arrived, Daniel brought most of his older students, but he knew that Sam and Robby were the ones who had the greatest chance of winning. And of course, Cobra Kai had to be there, too. They made its now traditional entrance to the delight of the announcer and the crowd. Johnny's flashy style had made the dojo popular, and, here and there among the audience, you could see people wearing Cobra Kai t-shirts and waving Cobra Kai flags. It made Daniel scoff. He would never debase karate like that just for the sake of merchandising.

Johnny entered after his students, followed by Miguel. The boy, decked in his black gi, moved swiftly on his crutches. He might not be competing, but he was his sensei's right-hand man and, in may ways, the heart of the dojo, so his presence was essential, even if it was just to give support.

Daniel tried to meet Johnny's eyes. He wanted the man to see him rolling his eyes at their flashy behaviour and needless commercialization of karate, but Johnny's eyes were focused on something else. Or rather, on someone else, a tall male someone else. He was standing in the sidelines saying something to Johnny and smiling. Johnny was also smiling and nodding. But the strangest thing of all was that, when the announcer started talking again, the man caressed Johnny's arm before he went to sit with the audience.

Daniel frowned just as Johnny looked in his direction. He couldn't decipher the man's expression, so he just turned his back and went to speak with Sam, deciding to ignore the whole incident.

And once the tournament started, Daniel forgot all about the stranger. He would never admit it out loud, but he loved seeing Johnny so supportive of his students. Win or lose, he'd be there to pat them in the back and give them words of encouragement. He regretted not seeing that sooner, not seeing how hard Johnny tried to do what was best, even if he didn't always go about the right way.

One by one, the students fought, and Daniel couldn't help but feel impressed about their progress. Eventually, Robby took the lead for Miyagi-do and Aisha, for the Cobras. And soon, they were facing each other in the final fight. They were well matched. Robby was a quick fighter with a knack for analysing his rival's style so he could predict their moves. Aisha was not as fast, but she had endurance on her side and an unpredictability that eventually allowed her to come on top.

When the referee raised her arm the whole place erupted in cheers. Robby was graceful in his defeat, he shook her hand and move away to let the celebrating Cobras surround her, and even some members of Miyagi-do joined them.

Daniel smiled at her from a distance, letting her enjoy her moment with her peers. Then he went to talk to Robby. He had fought a good fight and he told him so, but the boy didn't seem too concerned about having lost. He patted him in the back and went to look for Johnny. Robby wasn't the only one who could be grateful in defeat. But what he saw when he found him, stopped him in his tracks.

Johnny and the stranger.

Johnny kissing the stranger.

Johnny kissing the stranger who was a man.

And it wasn't just a friendly peck either, he could swear there was some tongue involved. The stranger's arms were around Johnny's neck, and Johnny's around his waist, their bodies plastered against each other. Daniel was fuming. It was completely obscene and inappropriate to do that in front of children. There must be some rule to forbid this in a public arena. And if there wasn't, maybe he would propose one in the next committee meeting.

He was already mentally drafting the proposal and considering if he could retroactively penalise Johnny when a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"Dad?"

Sam was standing there, looking at him with concern.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I be ok?"

"You look... mad, what happened?"

"Nothing, well just..." he signalled Johnny and the stranger still going at it.

"What?" She looked behind his back, confused.

"It's disgusting!"

"Dad! They are just kissing!"

"In front of children!"

"Dad, you're not... You know that's normal, right?"

"I know it is! But not in public!"

Sam sighed. Robby appeared behind him.

"What's going on?"

"My dad has just seen Mr Lawrence with his boyfriend."

"His WHAT!?"

"Yeah, he told me Alex might come."

"Alex?"

"He's a lawyer. He helped my dad a lot with my case, and I guess they clicked."

"I think they are cute, your dad looks happy," Sam commented with a smile.

Daniel snorted but say nothing. The image of Johnny kissing that man was still engraved in his mind and it was making him queazy.

"We have to go. Moon is having a party and we need to change. You don't mind, right?"

"No, sure, go ahead."

"Thanks," Sam said kissing his cheek. "See you later!"

Daniel looked at his daughter and student walking away distractedly, as he mentally considered inviting the rest of the committee members to dinner to see if he could get them on board his "code of conduct" idea.

"Larusso."

And suddenly, Johnny was right in front of him. And at least he had the decency of being alone. But his cheeks were flushed and his lips were pink and wet, and Daniel couldn't stop looking at them.

"John," Daniel managed to say, trying to sound as cold and aloof as he could.

"What crawled up your ass? If you're mad about Aisha winning..."

"No, of course not!"

"Then what's happening?"

"What's happening your indecent spectacle back there," he said trying to control his anger and failing.

"My what? We were just kissing!"

"Just kissing?! That wasn't just kissing!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Larusso. I mean, if you don't recognise kissing when you see it, then I'm starting to understand why your wife divorced you," Johnny laughed.

"What did you say?" Daniel took a step forward, ready to pounce.

"Relax! It was just a joke!" Johnny said putting his hands up. "Really, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me. Since when are you gay, anyway?

"I'm not gay."

"Well, the guy sucking your face a moment ago may have something to say about that."

"No, I'm bi. Bisexual. I still like chicks, but I like some cock too if you know what I mean."

"Ugh, you're disgusting."

"I'd have never taken you for a homophobe."

"I'm not a homophobe!"

"You could have fooled me."

"I just don't like seeing children exposed to... that. You better not be doing that in your dojo too!"

"No, don't worry, I don't kiss him in the dojo," Johnny said smiling, "I just suck his dick."

Daniel groaned, which made Johnny laugh.

"I'm serious, Lawrence. I can get you banned from the tournament for indecency."

"Yeah? And what do you think the committee is going to do about you being homophobic?"

"For the last time, I'm not homophobic!"

"Sure, whatever you say, Larusso. I gotta go, my boyfriend is waiting for me outside. We are going to have dinner and then we are going to fuck our brains out, possibly right there in the restaurant."

"You're such a dick."

"At least I'm getting some. I hear all you're getting lately is your right hand. So I better go. I don't want to keep you from your date."

"Go fuck yourself!"

"I already have someone to do it for me!" and with that, Johnny walked away laughing.

Daniel looked around. Everyone else was gone. He wanted to kick something in the face, something blond and cocky. And maybe his boyfriend too. He kicked a balloon hard, but it just floated slowly for a few meters and then came down again. He needed to go to Miyagi-Do and do some katas.

#lawrusso #cobra kai #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #needed the distraction #back to my bullshit #but I didn't abandoned my other bullshit #I have enough bullshit for both

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the-clocktower · 4 years

Note

Hey, CW! I love your blog and personally apologize that you were forced into making it (I feel that on many levels), but, uh, quick question... how bad are you at web design because this design is awful and I'm sorry. The body text is a poor font choice for readability, the tag color is the same as the background, everything blends in FAR too much, there's no visuals whatsoever which is fine, maybe, if the colors differed, but you NEED a background of #4d0066 and an off-white text and also

Danny waited patiently after explaining his plan clearly and concisely, giving his friends the time that they needed to think everything over before deciding. He gave them twelve seconds, which, really, that was plenty of time. “So? C’mon, let’s get to work! CW is only gonna be distracted so long.”

“No, no, no, back up here. You stole their laptop- They have a laptop?” Tucker looked some mixture of delighted and confused, Danny feeling a surge of empathy for the same exact feelings he had gone through when discovering the laptop and subsequently the blog that CW had actually made (an event shortly followed by Danny being forced to sit down and finish his homework). “And you want to… what do you want to do?”

“Change their blog, duh. I mean, look- Here, let me show you what it looks like right now.” Danny, still in his ghost form, flew over to Sam’s large and ridiculously extravagant bed before letting himself fall and bounce a couple times before settling, making sure he was stable before pulling the borrowed laptop out of his backpack.

Sam and Tucker were quick to settle on either side of him, both of them making similar noises of disgust and horror once Danny brought up the correct blog, which, thank you, honestly. CW finally made a blog and apparently knew nothing about design.

“Jesus… I feel like I might actually cry over this- Did they use the same color for the text and background- What is this font- Danny. Danny, I can’t- I’m having an attack.” Tucker dramatically clutched his heart and fell backwards as he ‘died,’ Danny snorting as he turned to Sam.

“Well… it could definitely use some work,” Sam admitted, taking the laptop and getting to the customization screen in a few short clicks. “There, now if anything happens, they can blame me and you won’t have to go around pouting at being yelled at.”

“I don’t pout,” Danny muttered, leaning up against Sam as Tucker scrambled and moved to sit on Sam’s other side so she was now in the middle, laptop easily reachable by all of them. “Okay, so, that background color has got to go first. Like. Now.”

“No, no, we need a title for this blog first,” Tucker argued, leaning over to jab a finger at the screen. “Look at that empty space. It’s making me cry, Danny.”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Sam made a clicking noise with her tongue, clicking around on the screen before bringing up a list of themes - free ones, Danny noticed. Honestly, disgustingly rich and she still searched for whatever was free or cheapest, which… fair. “We’re changing this blog theme, first. It’s disgusting.”

The three were silent as they scrolled through the choices, communicating in grunts, mutters, and disgusted noises. Danny was almost sure they wouldn’t actually get anywhere before he was jabbing the screen hard enough to move it, “There. That one. It’s perfect-”

“We are not giving him a Miraculous Ladybug themed blog, Danny,” Sam sighed, Danny offended at how Jazz the tone she used was. “We’re all better than that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tucker snorted, finally shaking his head. “Forget it, colors and title first, then blog. At least with colors we’ll know what we’re looking for better, right?”

“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. “Colors and title first. What should we use for a title? I don’t know enough about them to choose anything good.”

Danny blinked as the two turned to look at him, panicking for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. The looks only turned into confused frowns and baffled expressions, which, okay, fair, since Danny had spoken in Latin.

Clearing his throat, he spoke it more clearly, giving a shrug, “Pulvis et umbra sumus. It’s something I learned when they were helping me with Latin, it just means we are but dust and shadow.”

Sam and Tucker went quiet, shared a look, and then nodded together before Sam was typing it in with a quiet, “Fitting.” It really was, when Danny thought about it, so, there. That was one thing done. “Okay, next up is title font.”

Clicking open the options, Tucker was half-shouting at once, “Comic Sans! Sam, we gotta give him Comic Sans-”

“No, no, choose that Grumpy one, now that is perfect.” Plus CW’s reaction would be hilarious.

“What? No- Comic Sans!”

“But Tuck, c’mon, the pun-”

“Both of you shut up,” Sam snapped, glaring at the two of them almost at once which was actually impressive, if Danny had to admit to it. “We’re giving them 1785 Baskerville.”

Danny and Tucker were both quiet, sharing a long look before Tucker decided he wanted to become a ghost ahead of schedule, “Boo, you goth.” He was shoved off the bed for his troubles, something which Danny managed to not laugh at if only so he wasn’t shoved off as well.

Once Tucker crawled back onto the bed they got back to designing, arguing over colors (“Oh my God, it should not be taking this long to have a sample color just pick something!”), font choices (“No, screw you both, we’re going to use Google Fonts like a normal family we are not having another fight over this!”), and which theme they should go with (“You know what? Screw it- Screw it! We’re just going to use the Tumblr Official theme like heathens and edit that!”)

It was taking longer than Danny thought it would, but slowly and surely the blog was coming together, Tucker having firmly taken over once it got to the actual coding part of the website, which was how they ended up with transparent textures to go with their background color (“Aw, but, guys, c’mon, this texture looks like stars! How cool is that!”), a transparent texture for the posts themselves (“I know you like your stars, Danny, but it won’t work with the font color and look, the parchment fits, don’t you think?”), and even a cooler looking blog title (“You know what? Here, no, we’ll put a text-shadow command on the title- There. That looks pretty cool, don’t you think?”)

There were a few hiccups along the way in choices (“No, no, make his avatar shape a square, because… you know. He’s such a square.”), but at the end they had a nice blog that really had taken way too long and Danny was half-certain that CW was about to show up and yell at them any second.

“You know,” Sam said at the very end, “This is still kind of a boring looking blog, everything considered. We could have gone way more crazy with all of this.”

“I mean… yeah, I guess so,” Danny admitted, closing the laptop and carefully putting it back in his bag. “But I didn’t want to like, you know, really make something crazy, I guess. I mean… Their blog sucked, but it’s still their blog, you know?” Danny shrugged, floating off the bed and giving a light stretch. “Dunno, just figured I’d tweak it a little to fit them better instead of having them waste time on it. You know, show off that wise old mentor who cares and has everything together and stuff thing.”

Danny barely even finished before a pillow being thrown at his face, Tucker laughing as Sam booed him. “You’re too nice! Get that sickeningly sweet attitude out of my room!” She was grinning even as she ‘yelled’ at him, Danny rolling his eyes with a laugh as he did as told.

Not even half an hour later and Danny was back where he started, laptop returned to its proper place and back open and waiting.

It was the latest ask that he saw in the inbox that had him pausing, Danny reading through the ask and unable to help himself whatsoever as he snickered before clicking the ask to respond.

you know what asker? you’re absolutely right so lets try this out

-Danny

[Story and blog re-design by ibelieveinahappilyeverafter.]

#ask blog #danny phantom #clockwork #long post #text #(story)#(this post is basically saying danny took over the blog)#(and gave it a new look)#(blog owner is to friend as i am to danny)#(i hated their blog too much so i fixed it muah ha ha)

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be-dazzled · 5 years

Photo

#SIYC

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet: click here Tumblr: explore here Genre: Multi-chapter, Romance, Comedy Rating: M for sensitive content and language

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life.

The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”.

There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

…

I sat down on a log, took her on my lap She said wait a minute bud, you got to see my pap He's gotta sixteen gauge choked down like a rifle He don't like a man that's gonna trifle.

– Shotgun Boogie, Tennessee Ernie Ford

…

Gray drove down to Magnolia’s quietest and richest summer destination, just outside the city, where the most affluent upstate residents go to breathe some fresh air. Juvia sent him the address last night, informing him that the Juvia’s father invited him for the weekend at the Lockser townhouse.

Apparently, His Excellency, Julian Lockser, Magnolia Ambassador to the Alvarez Empire, liked to grill during his free time. It had become some sort of tradition, whenever he came home from his official travels, to laze around and enjoy weekend barbecues with his family. Mostly, it was only him, Olivia and Juvia. For this weekend, however, they included Gray.

After the initial surprise, and some sort of throwing his hands around he called his ‘happy dance’, a little devil Gray popped up on his shoulder to remind him that calling him down the beach paradise was Ambassador Julian Lockser’s version of showing him his gun collection. It was, after all, a time-honored dating tradition to torture the boyfriend. And the idea wasn’t too outside the ream of possibilities. The guy seemed like the type who’d seen things: ugly, under-the-radar, CIA information-acquiring secret techniques and looked like he watched and enjoyed it.

Julian Lockser was a James Bond Russian Mafia Evil Boss replica.

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Juvs. I’m a delight!” He spoke over, having Juvia on bluetooth.

“I should have driven with you here.” Juvia said repentantly.

“Relax, babe. The Camaro’s up for a long drive anyway. Besides, I got my girls here to entertain me.” Gray felt the sudden need to clear things up lest his girlfriend misunderstood. “I-I meant Mariah Carey, you know that right?”

“Why? Are you driving with her to my house?”

The two shared a soft chuckle, starting up their usual friendly banters. When that died down, silence followed. Gray easily read into that one.

“You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m a grown man.”

“Says who?”

“You know, one of the many things I like about you is your impeccable sense of humor.” Gray brushed the jab at him off with humor.

“Fine.” Juvia submitted. As much as she liked their verbal flirtations, Gray needed to focus on his driving. She wanted him to actually make it to her. “I’ll see you soon?” She asked, her voice now laced with tenderness and loving.

“I’ll see you, baby.”

Gray waited for the familiar sound of an ended call. He then removed the bluetooth piece off his ear and dropped the pod at what supposed to be the car’s cup holder. Finally off the phone, he expelled a sharp breath to ground the tension he had been feeling, and hiding, since the morning. Mask off.

“Okay, Fullbuster.” He adjusted the rearview mirror, dark blue eyes stared sharply at his reflection and began a monologue. “You can do this. This is just a hiccup you can totally overcome.”

His mind travelled back to the night he first met Julian Lockser.

“You had your tongue down his daughter’s throat. Of course, he’s not gonna like you.”

Way to make a first impression.

The man definitely hated him. Instead of receiving a warm welcome, Gray had the door slammed at his face, twice. So, imagine his surprise when Juvia told him it was the Ambassador’s idea to have him over the weekend. He thought maybe he was warming up to him a little bit. So, Gray concocted a plan.

“Hey, you’re a likeable guy. You just turn the charms on and win him over.”

He winced. That plan worked on women, some males too, but he remembered how Juvia received him the first time they met and it wasn’t pretty.

“Okay, maybe, maybe not your entire self. Let’s tone it down a notch.”

A voice inside chided him. Since when did Gray Fullbuster ever tone himself down?

“Or, just be the opposite. Totally opposite of yourself.”

Could he?

He sighed in exasperation. It was totally hopeless. But Gray Fullbuster never gave up. What kind of sport was he if he gave up the second life became inconvenient? He was the ‘Miracle Worker’ for goodness sake! Stealing winning shots left and right. No. ‘Giving Up’ wasn’t in his vocabulary. So, he showered himself more pep talks.

“Mr. Lockser just probably wants to get to know you. Why else would he invite you down at his fortress for the weekend?”

Maybe, he’s going to kill you and throw your body into the beach.

His brain chose that moment to remind him of the evil eye Julian threw him the night before, paired with his ready-to-kill aura.

“That’s it. Juvia and I would just have to elope.”

Gray had resigned to his fate.

Juvia had just got off the phone with Gray when her father Julian, clad in a pink apron, carrying a tray of raw meat, entered the house through the back door.

“Was that Fullbuster?” He asked in a deep, monotone – unamused.

“Yes. He’s on his way.”

Juvia followed the six-foot man around the kitchen as the latter scanned the table tops and searched the counters and cabinets for something.

“Stop following me around.”

“Are you looking for this?” Juvia held the silver clippers on display, taunting his father with it.

“Yes!” He exclaimed. Julian stopped ransacking the drawers and cabinets to take the damn tong he’d been looking for.

Juvia, however, had other plans. She held her father’s weakness away just as he was about to approach.

“Will you promise to be nice?” She asked, threatening to withhold from him the man’s precious kitchenware.

“I am nice.” He claimed, reaching out for the silverware only to grasp air. His blue piercing eyes said otherwise.

“Dad.” Juvia challenged. She was quite sure her father was planning to make it hard on Gray.

The two had some sort of father-daughter stand-off in the middle of the kitchen and none of them was willing to cave in; with Julian’s need for the clipper to start his barbecue party and Juvia’s desire for her dad to take it easy on Gray.

“Fine.” His father conceded and dejectedly grabbed the kitchenware which Juvia generously handed to him. “But you two are sleeping in separate rooms.” He said, pointing the tong at Juvia as he enunciated the words, for emphasis, of course.

Only daughter – 1; Doting father – 0. But no one was keeping scores.

Just as Julian was about to grab the knob on the back door, Juvia threw her slender arms around the six-footer and hugged him from behind.

“Thank you.” She said and squeezed the 182 lbs. as hard as her arms allowed. “I really like him.” She whispered for only her father to hear.

“I know.” Julian loosened his daughter’s slender arms around his waist to turn around and face her.

Julian Lockser might have lost to his only daughter in the stand-off. But the haughty glint in his rather piercing eyes implied that the man still had one trick up his sleeve.

“I witnessed how much you like him, remember?” One thick brown quirked up at Juvia, making one shocked daughter let go of him.

“Dad!” Juvia complained as Julian sauntered towards the backdoor to return to his grilling.

Victory put a bounce on his walk and shame painted his daughter’s cheeks rosy.

“You weren’t even supposed to be there!” She shouted after him.

Guilty daughter – 1; Savage father – 1. Now, he was keeping scores.

...

Juvia’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the first ring of the door bell. On the second and the third ones, her heart was starting a marathon.

The older couple’s echoing laughter travelled into the house. Juvia decided not to disturb her folks sharing a good laugh out at the deck. That’s what Juvia wanted ever since she was a little girl: Sunday brunches, get-together with the family and talking about anything under the sun. Just like her mother, Juvia wanted to find a best-friend and a partner in one person.

The fourth ring pulled Juvia out of her reverie and called her to the door. When she opened it, a beautiful bouquet of yellow peonies greeted her. She took them and smelled the beautiful aroma coming from them, peeking through the beautiful bouquet to see the handsome man leaning against the door frame.

Gray Fullbuster was in his casual clothes, looking fresh and handsome. A sexy smirk complimented his just-woke-up look.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

It took so much from Juvia not to swoon or faint at Gray’s greeting. She should be immune from his charms by now. Yet two simple words from the guy had her stomach fluttering, knees buckling, and heart racing.

“Chivalry isn’t dead, I guess.”

They bantered with their words and flirted with their eyes. Gray’s surprise didn’t stop with the flowers. From behind, he took out a round pie covered with cling wrap he’d been hiding.

“And my mother sends this. She made it herself.” Gray handed Juvia the offering, brushing her fingers with his as he did. “She said it’ll help me gain some points.”

Juvia suddenly missed him; missed touching him, missed kissing him. She stepped up to him, smile coyly playing on her lips, to answer that ‘missing’ feeling. Gray was more than happy to become part of that answering. He peeled himself off the frame, shifted his weight equally and leaned down to end both their agony, only to stop midway. He scolded himself for having second thoughts. There were many times when Gray needed his brain to think rationally; like when he thought riding a horse butt-naked was a good idea, or skate on the ice with just his Christmas boxers on. Yet, it chose that moment, when his need to feel Juvia’s lips was about to be answered, when the kiss was just a breath away, his shitty brain chose that moment to consider and care about repercussions.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked, peering over her shoulder for a certain national diplomat.

“Honey, who is it?” Julian called out from the kitchen.

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

“Probably, not.” Juvia whispered to Gray, fighting the sudden need to throw herself at him and Gray spicy freshness and raw scent of masculinity wasn’t helpful at all.

“Gray’s here, dad.” She shouted back, her voice travelling to the kitchen.

Juvia mouthed come in, inviting Gray to come inside the house. Gentleman as he was, he took the sweet treat out of Juvia’s hands as he crossed the threshold. Just as he was stepping into the lavish living room, admiring the impressive internal structure of what Gray could only call a mansion, the tall James Bond clone popped out the archway, which Gray assumed led to the kitchen.

The pink apron, although looked funny, did little to nothing to sober the intimidation. It clung to the fifty-year old’s body, accentuating the older man’s toned and fit build. Not bad for someone in their fifties, he told himself. He wished he would look any close to this guy when he reached Julian’s age. Such realization made Gray more conscious around the Ambassador.

“G-g-good day,” Gray cleared his throat, embarrassed at the little hiccup, “Sir Lockser.” He finished, offering his hand which, no matter how hard he tried, wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Please, call me Mr. Lockser.”

“Dad.” Juvia warned.

“I was kidding. Julian is fine.”

It didn’t feel like it though. The hard squeeze said otherwise. Gray had to pretend it didn’t hurt as he showed Juvia a strained smile.

“Is that Gray?”

The graceful Olivia emerged behind her husband. Her warm smile eased the tension Gray Fullbuster was feeling. But when she leaned in to give him a light hug, Gray could feel his body shudder under the husband’s watchful eyes.

“Did it take you long to get here?”

Gray thanked every god he knew when Olivia stepped back and returned to her husband’s side. She put a hand around his waist and leaned against the six footer as she made small talks with the nervous wreck.

“No, not really.” He managed to say.

“Well, c’mon out to the deck. Julian’s making barbecue.”

“Lead the way.” Gray responded, eliciting a disapproving back-glance from the husband.

He waited for the two to disappear behind the archway and turned to Juvia.

“Your father hates me.” Gray mourned.

“No, he doesn’t.” Juvia took a step closer and Gray almost recoiled.

This whole thing with Juvia’s dad made him really jumpy and apparently allergic to Juvia’s touch. He didn’t like it. Gray wanted to be close to her as much as possible, wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her. If her father didn’t like that then screw him.

No. No. No.

He couldn’t screw up Juvia’s dad. He was there to please the man not hate him forever.

“Hey.” Juvia stepped closer to him, look and voice filled with tenderness. She snaked her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

Gray felt the flower stems poking the back of his head but it didn’t matter. He put his arms around Juvia’s waist and pulled her closer and against him. He didn’t flinch at the contact. He shouldn’t be. This was the most natural and the most wonderful feeling in the world. It felt nice sharing the warmth between them.

It was what mattered.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Juvia tried to convince him.

“Really? Because it really feels like he does.”

“He just needs to warm up to you a little.”

Juvia had a way to soft-pedal things.

“When?” The impatience showed in Gray’s face if his voice didn’t give him away.

“Soon.”

Juvia pulled him down by the neck and brushed her lips against his, briefly and playfully nibbling at his lower lip. It felt so good that Gray hissed at the lost of contact.

“So, please bear with it for now.”

Blue imploring eyes pleaded with Gray and he couldn’t help but get lost in those deep blue eyes.

“Fine.” Gray conceded. He leaned down to steal another peck. One light brush could never appease his hunger for her. So, Gray struck a bargain, putting on that smile that ensured grant of his propositions. “If you promise to make it up to me.”

A deal he knew he could gain the most.

“You guys coming or what?”

The familiar baritone made the couple jump away from each other. Both Gray and Juvia weren’t sure what the intruder saw but none of them could look the clean-cut gentleman in the eye.

“W-w-we were just on our way.” Juvia answered to which Gray seconded.

The ballerina stuttered at first, flustered at getting caught the second time. But she quickly regained her composure, even answered the raised eyebrow thrown the couple’s way with a chuckle albeit nervously.

“Okay, but hurry. The barbecue’s gonna get cold.”

Julian disappeared from sight first before Gray and Juvia looked at each other with guilty frowns on their faces.

“We’ll never gonna get a break are we?”

Gray walked ahead, shoulders slumped at defeat. Then, Juvia followed. Both kept their hands away from each other – much, much away.

…

The Lockser Mansion sat on an elevated land, merely few meters away from the beach lane. What a sweet set-up, Gray thought. The late morning breeze played with his hair and the scent from it tickled his nostrils. The scenery looked like it came from a painting and Gray was able to appreciate it despite the sharp eyes staring him down across the table.

“So, Gray…”

Gray stopped eating his barbecue midway, mouth hanged open, when Julian started a conversation. The four sat around the wooden patio table, facing each other. There was no where to hide for Gray, so he had to meet Julian’s menacing eyes with his mouth hanging open.

“Go on. You can eat while we talk.”

Gray took a bite from the skewer and almost, almost moaned at the first taste of the meat. The meat juice exploded in his mouth with flavor at first bite and his lids shut close on their own. The man might be mean but his barbecue was to die for.

“Right? That’s my own recipe!”

Gray thought his ears deceived him. But when he opened his eyes to see, the excitement was all over Julian’s face. His menacing eyes softened and his mouth was twisted in a weird curve. Gray almost fell of his chair when he realized that Julian Lockser was actually smiling. At him. It’s the first he’d seen it – ever.

“It’s so good, Mr. Lockser. I had to keep down the moan that was about to–.”

Gray failed to finish that sentence when he saw the curve on Julian’s lips slowly drop. The smile in his eyes was slowly disappearing and when Gray glanced at Juvia; her face was twisted into an unexplainable expression – but he read disappointment and judging from it.

“Why would you keep down the moan? Go for it!”

It was the first time Gray heard the throaty laugh coming from the head of the Lockser Household. The contagious laughter spread across the table and the sun was finally smiling brightly at Gray. He had to thank his stomach and his love for good food for that.

Finally, Gray was in.

…

After lunch, Juvia helped her mother clean up inside the house. Juvia’s childhood nanny, who just came in for her shift, took the used utensils out of their hands to place them to the sink. Juvia said her thanks and informed the seventy-year old help about the barbecues left outside. She invited her to enjoy them and to bring some for her grandchildren later when she leaves for home.

The old nanny gave her a toothy smile, or what was left of it, and said something in her dialect. Then, she left and continued on her cleaning.

Left with nothing else to do and a bad case of curiosity, Juvia walked near the sidelights and watched the two figures animatedly talking near the railing that bordered the deck. Juvia felt her mother’s presence approach her. The latter peered over what the young Lockser was looking at.

“What do you think are they talking about?” Juvia asked the older Lockser, not taking her eyes off the two figures.

“Well, you know your father. It could be anything.”

Juvia shifted her attention to the woman next to her. She was in awe. Olivia Lockser had that familiar look in her eyes and she’d seen it too many times not to recognize it – a gaze full of affection. There was only one man Olivia could look at that way, Julian Lockser.

One day she wished, she could give that same look to one man.

“You just be glad they are getting along.”

Juvia chuckled in agreement and returned her gaze to the raven-haired boy who just received a heavy swat on the shoulder from her father – Julian’s secret act of approval. She stepped away from watching them as the two figures started to walk back into the house. She only caught a tailspin of their conversation when the two finally stepped into the threshold.

Juvia approached her man and Gray lagged behind. The momentary separation gave the couple a chance to catch up.

“So, how did that happen?”

“I don’t know.” Gray answered with a boy’s smile lingering on his lips. “He asked about me, what I do and we got to talking about basketball.”

“Told you, he’s a big fan.” Juvia interjected.

“And turns out, we hate the same guy!” He excitedly announced, ecstatic with the fact that he found common ground with the elusive Julian Lockser.

“Really, who?”

“The newbie from Lamia’s Scale”.

“What? I like that guy.”

The smile on Gray’s face dropped.

“Are you serious?”

Juvia received a rather disapproving glare at the man.

“Lyon Vastia?”

The tone of his voice made Juvia feel like she was wrong, so very wrong for liking this Lyon, whom Juvia only saw play on TV once. She didn’t really have any opinion on the guy but seeing how Gray was reacting to this piece of news, Juvia just wanted to yank on his chains.

“Well, yeah. He’s good and kinda cute.”

“He’s a jerk. Plus, he’s a ball-hogger. That’s why their team never wins. He thinks he’s some kind of basketball god or something.”

Gray was at Juvia’s face making his case, trying to convince his woman why he should not think of Lyon as good at basketball or cute. She just shouldn’t.

“The papers said he’s the next you.”

Gray laughed at her face and Juvia could hear the insult in it.

“Same papers which said you’re the next Michael Jackson?”

Gray suddenly stopped laughing. Doubt clouded his deriding eyes. The irony wasn’t lost in him.

“W-w-well, don’t believe everything you read in the papers.” Gray warned her, not hiding the fact that he just got trapped.

“Oh!” Gray, defeated, tried to change the subject. “And did you know he’d been classmates with my step-father in High School?”

“He was?”

Juvia would rather have the excited little boy who seemed to have uncovered some big mystery, like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy, rather than jealous Gray – love or career-wise. Although, she had to admit, they were both cute sides of him.

“Yeah! He told me stories about him–”

“–Hey, Gray! Come here I’m going to show you something.”

Gray was interrupted by Julian’s invitation into the living room.

“Be right there, Sir!” He glanced back to Juvia with a proud smirk. “Your dad likes me.”

“Yeah, yeah. What is he going to show you?”

“Some pictures.” Gray kissed the back of Juvia’s hand before he excitedly bounced into the living room, not wanting to make the man in there wait.

Juvia could finally breathe. The two men in her life weren’t only getting along; they were starting to become the best of pals. She got what she wanted. Juvia was at peace until a horrifying idea hit her like a bat and she almost staggered at the realization. There was only one album her father wanted to show and always showed the guests, an album full of Juvia’s pictures – childhood, monumental and all of sorts of embarrassing.

“Wait, dad!”

Writer’s Corner: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO UPDATE ON TUMBLR. Hahaha. This is why you guys should really subscribe to my fanfiction.net account. lol. Anyways, hope you guys like this update.

P.S. I’m supposed to upload Chapter 10 tonight. lol.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #she's in your court #siyc #gruvia fanfiction #gruvia fanfic #gruvia au

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thattennisgirl · 5 years

Text

First Impressions Part 2 - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Loki lures you into a late-night rematch after your last fight that resulted in a draw. Part 2 to this fic “First Impressions”.

Post-Thor Ragnarok, but an AU where Infinity War/Endgame does not occur. Loki joins the Avengers. Reader works for Stark Industries and with the Avengers. The reader is now Loki’s new partner.

Warnings: Language, Some fighting

Word Count: 1.6K

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

He was eyeing you again, you could feel it, the sensation of being watched at the back of your head. It had annoyed you to no end. All you desired was to leave the facility's gym in peace and go to bed.

“You know it’s rude to stare right?”

“Do not flatter yourself, a God would never bother with a disgusting little mortal, especially not you.” A familiar tall figure stepped out from the shadows of the training room to confront you.

Liar, Loki’s internal thoughts betrayed him, you like her.

Loki had consistently watched you for the previous week, ever since your little incident in the training room, he began looking for the opportunity to openly challenge you once more. Your previous knife fight had resulted in a draw, Loki internally assured himself that this was out of pure luck on your part. He had just met you, he did not have the time to observe you in training as he had done over the past couple of days.

However, he hadn’t realized the great delight he would have in seeing you become unnerved by his presence. It had been incredibly satisfying to see you freeze up and glare at him when he came too close, or intentionally brushed past you in the hallways or the kitchen.

Even more wonderful was watching you, his dear partner, in training. He observed your training with the pathetic Captain America and his bonehead of a brother Thor. It hadn’t been too difficult to learn your fighting pattern, and Loki was incredibly enthusiastic about using it against you. The danger he had sensed from you, from the beginning, surely must have been a warning about your dangerous ability with daggers. Admittedly, it was a skill in which he had not seen in any other mortal, but Loki was still much better.

He was a God, and he didn’t need some Midgardian girl as a partner.

But what Loki hadn’t expected from his surveillance, was to learn that there was much more to the former SHIELD agent than met the eye. You had a distinct smell that drew him in, an intoxicating mix of something sweet like honey, and floral that reminded him of the roses that once flourished in his mother’s garden on Asgard prior to its destruction. You also had a smile that seemed to brighten the room, even coaxing a grin occasionally from the shy Dr. Banner.

Nonetheless, Loki’s main goal of riling you up into a fight was an easy one, and one he would see through. A few well-crafted insults here and there would do the trick.

You knew a trap when you saw one, especially in the form of a black-haired God who was seeking revenge. You would have to be a fool to think he wouldn’t seek retribution after your last fight. This was the God of Mischief. If you rose to his challenge, his insults, you would be playing right into his hands.

However, that knowledge didn’t stop you from acting irrationally nonetheless.

“Fuck you, you egotistical piece of -”

“You dare to insult me you mewling quim?! I am a God, you will speak to me with respect!” Loki snarled.

“What the hell did you just call me?!” Your gym bag was now forgotten on the floor as you turned around, your face now flushed in anger. What was this guy’s problem?

“Can you not hear clearly?” Loki taunted, leaning in closer to you, his green eyes dark and harsh. “I said -”

Out of pure rage, your natural instinct was to swing your right fist. You realized a moment too late, that you had already done this to Loki once. At that moment, you considered yourself lucky that Fury was not here to see this, as the individual who oversaw and directed your training, he would have had your head for this. You could remember his words clearly, Never use the same move twice on an opponent. Predictability is a weakness.

It was clear you had underestimated Loki and his fast reflexes, as he grabbed your wrist and with a quick tug towards him you were thrown off balance. In a smoothly executed move, Loki now held your wrists with his hands and kept his chest pressed against your back as he leaned over your shoulder to chuckle in your ear. An undeniable shiver traveled up your back at the sound.

Damn him.

“You mortals are so easily provoked. It’s disappointing really.” Loki kept a firm grip on your wrists when you tried to pull free. “Admit it, you are no match for me.”

You paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to escape his grasp. Agreement, perhaps? “You know what Loki? You’re right.” You paused, your inner emotions exclaiming in glee when you felt his grip loosen as he looked at you closely. Typical male. “I’m way better than you.”

You stomped hard on his left foot, and the Asgardian let out a sharp yelp, momentarily distracted as you grabbed for one of the daggers he kept in a sheath at his hip. You drew out the dagger and jumped back from Loki facing him.

He’s dangerous, your mind warned you instantly as Loki’s eyes narrowed in surprise at the sight of his dagger in your hand, He’s dangerous, angry, and you just stole his dagger. Well done. You are totally going to die because of your pride. For a moment, you wondered how far you would get if you started running now.

“I’m impressed.” Loki’s voice was low, a warning. You swallowed hard as you considered your escape routes.

Loki followed your gaze for a moment, a light grin touching his lips. “Please do run, I enjoy a good chase.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, and you frowned. You would not give him such pleasure. That’s what he wanted, for you to run away. I’m a former SHIELD Agent, I can totally kick his ass.

As if reading your inner conflict, Loki flashed a full smile of his white teeth.

Loki struck first, reminding you much of a snake in the grace, fluidity, and dangerous intent behind his movements. He had managed to materialize two daggers, out of nowhere, and you dodged and ducked away from his swings. But you hadn’t been able to predict the swift leg that swept you off your feet and sent you falling onto the mat below.

You barely had enough time to dodge the kick aimed for your side before you were back on your feet again. Ready to exchange further blows, as you couldn’t quite deny the thrill and adrenaline rush that came with fighting someone so lethal.

You weren’t quite sure how long the two of you had been fighting, perhaps a few minutes to half an hour before you began to feel your fatigue setting in. You had already trained today, fighting Loki, while enjoyable, was consuming more energy than you had left. Not to mention he was Asgardian, with a stamina which certainly outweighed any other mortal. That and he had landed a particularly nasty blow to your ribs that was becoming sore.

Loki, never one to pass up a weakness, delivered a well-placed push into the backs of your knees that forced you to the ground. Just as you regained your focus, you realized you were pinned to the floor by the raven-haired God, his hips pressing against yours in a very compromising position. A compromising position indeed, you realized, as you looked up into his eyes, to see green orbs shining in glee and presumed victory. A small smirk curled at his lips. Had he always been a lethal mix of male arrogance and good-looks?

But for the moment, it would seem he had you immobilized and right where he wanted you. Now all he needed was for you to admit defeat.

“My oaf of a brother will not be here to save you this time, dear partner.” Loki stated, moving closer to reach for your arms, to which you cleverly kept underneath you.

“I think,” you paused for another breath, your cheeks flushed in a way that Loki found attractive, “that you’re the one who needs saving.”

“Is that so?” Loki raised a dark eyebrow, dark green eyes framed by black lashes flickered down to look at your lips. Loki found himself briefly wondering if you’d let him kiss you.

“Mhmm.”

“I don’t think I need any-” Loki stopped mid-sentence to look at the familiar device you had pulled out from underneath you. “Where did you get that?”

“A thoughtful gift from Thor.” You eyed the remote carefully, before smiling at Loki, who stood up and immediately began looking for the obedience disk. “He said I might need it in case you try to sneak up on me, which you did.”

You pressed the button before Loki could find the device that you had managed to plant on him during your scuffle, and you watched as the God began convulsing due to the electric shocks emitted by the device. You practically rolled out of the way, watching as he fell to the ground.

After a few moments (which felt like an eternity for Loki) to gather up your bags and hoist them onto your shoulder, you turned back to him. You tilted your head at Loki and decided that while the Asgardian deserved some pain, you were not overly cruel.

With a touch of your thumb, the device clicked off, to which Loki immediately let out a groan of relief. You were quick enough to snag the disk off of his back and move towards the door as you heard Loki begin to get up.

“Ambush me like that again, and I’ll kill you.” You threatened as you walked out the door. Not turning to look back as Loki panted for a moment, before stumbling to his feet.

Loki realized that his first impressions were indeed correct, you were dangerous and beautiful.

---------

Taglist:

@meraki--mei @meraki--mei //hope this tags you, your tumblr is not coming up

@fire-in-her-veinz

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #MCU #reader fanfiction #female reader

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janiedean · 5 years

Note

so admittingly I don't know much about springsteen but your top 5/10 springsteen songs and why?

WELL THEN HERE WE GO (sorry this required a long answer) (also if I start going like ‘this is it bUT IN THIS VERSION NOT IN THAT ONE it’s because actually he has wildly different version of the same song XDDD)

*cough* *drum roll* videos for the first five + links for the others as usual xD

one: the ghost of tom joad

youtube

I once ranted about this specific song in detail so here if anyone’s interested, but: it took me years to decide on which one was my favorite overall but then I went for tom joad because it has all. it’s a heartbreaking song that updates one of my favorite ever novels (the grapes of wrath) to current days situations and guys I swear to god the fact that he put to music tom’s speech to his mother in the novel at the end after rehashing the themes in a new light in the rest of it killed me and I want it tattooed, so. tom joad now and always thanks guys. I love this damned song to levels that are embarrassing as hell.

two: no surrender (in the live 75-85 version)

youtube

so: no surrender is originally on born in the usa and actually it’s my favorite song from that record regardless - like, it opens side two and I remember that the first time I heard it was on a tape a friend’s dad (haha) had lent me bc he knew I was into bruce and he was too and I turned it to the second side of the tape and played it and I was like holy crap this is it but then I heard the acoustic live version from the following tour and guys. guys. if you ever had friends you fell out of touch with but still remember fondly and/or friendships you know that even if you don’t talk for a while you’ll always be close when you meet again this is.. just… idk it hit me like a punch in the stomach and it never left. I cried every single time he played it live when I went to see him. no regrets. I love this song sfm and the melancholy in the acoustic version just destroys me.

three: for you (acoustic piano version)

youtube

I 100% realize this is probably a weird choice for top three, but: this was on his first album and the version on there is pretty damned good - it’s about a guy whose girlfriend tries to commit suicide and reminesces about their relationship - and you’d go like why, but: first of all he has some of his best lines in this (my electric surges free I just sdgsldjl) and the entire last stanza where he goes from where I found you broken at the beach to the end is just a knife into your heart, but this goddamned version here just goes and tears your heart out and stomps on it and I swear if there is one thing I want from bruce is that he plays this in front of me next time I see him live because for now I never managed and just - the slow piano kills me. I love it. the fact that when I asked brian fallon in a tumblr q&a his fave bruce song and he said this specific one just confirmed he’s a true intellectual. ;)

four: drive all night

youtube

or: this is the love song. I just. the first time I heard this I fell off the chair or something and it was the studio version which is nowhere near as heartfelt as the live versions and I swear it’s just - it has very lovely lyrics that perfectly balance melancholy and hopeful and don’t make it saccharine, the fucking sax solo destroys me every single goddamned time I hear it and when you get to the end and he says that she has his love heart and soul it’s The Most Heartfelt Thing I Have Ever Heard In My Life Or Close To It and I just, I love drive all night with every inch of my atoms, bye.

five: badlands

youtube

I ranted about this extensively yesterday here so I refer you to it for long rant about it, but tldr: this was actually the first bruce song I ever heard knowing it was by bruce - it wasn’t what got me on that train but it still was the first and like… I didn’t understand it for a long time bc my first run-in with bruce was a hit and miss but then I did and like, this song is basically quintessential bruce because it has all his themes rolled up into one, all the good stuff, everything that is good about his music and most of all live it’s a goddamned religious experience.

so, that was for the top five, but top ten…

six: youngstown (click here for full rant from last year) which was a hard choice but this damned song slays me whether acoustic or electric and I love his use of language and how he built it and how he teaches you things in five minutes pretty much and how the music/mood matches the words in both versions and seems to mean different approaches but still doesn’t change the core of it, and is2g the last two lines and the second stanza and the line he recycled from the mahardige book he inspired himself with when he wrote this are just goddamned out of this world and like this one raised the ladder for years but I just, love it to pieces

seven: rosalita (come out tonight), or: bruce does serious and politics incredibly well but this one is just a delight from beginning to end, it’s fun, I could listen to it for a month without getting tired, it always puts a smile on my face and the entire last part where he tells her to inform her dad he has a record company now so no reason to hate that his daughter is with a moneyless musician is just… so… lovely and fun and lighthearted and I just really love this song a lot ;;

eight: highway patrolman or, there’s no way a top ten bruce songs has no nebraska material from me because nebraska Is A Damn Masterpiece and this one’s my fave off it, but tldr: the utter, absolute way this thing slays you with just voice and guitar and the way he makes you feel about the cop who ends up letting his brother with ptsd from vietnam escape after he accidentally kills someone is out of this world and I just, this one really has a way to make you empathize with the narrator and my heart ;_; (also the movie they made from it which is in that video is really good k viggo mortensen playing the brother with ptsd isn’t leaving me anytime soon)

nine: thunder road (rant attached to the link) or: this one is short and sweet but honest, it’s not The Definitive Love Song To Me just bc drive all night exists. this damned song is a masterpiece in itself. it’s flawless. it has the crescendo, it has the fact that at whichever moment in his life he sings it it works, ‘it’s a town full of losers and I’m pulling out of here to win’ is the most iconic line that ever ended a song or close to it and it’s exactly the kinda love song you wanna hear if you want realistic love song material and just, legendary. okay? legendary.

ten: american skin (41 shots), or: this actually is what got me into springsteen bc I borrowed the live album it was published on originally after my first try with darkness went so-so, I listened to it and was like ‘okay yeah he’s good’, then I got to this one and went like ‘wait a fucking moment this isn’t just good’ (count that I was twelve and understood maybe 1/5th in the english songs I heard), I actually looked it up, went like woah wait aaand listened to it for two weeks straight, bought the record, translated everything by hand, started reading about what the fuck was wrong with the circumstances for which it was written and here I am twenty years later dying over bruce and having been introduced thanks to him to 80% of his country’s societal issues or I’d have had no idea that early in my life. anyway: other than the sentimental value, it’s honestly out of this world good and the live version just nailed it way better than the studio that was released years later and I love bruce a lot, k? k.

thanks for letting me rant ;)

#bruce springsteen #springsteen birthday extravaganza 2k19 #if anyone not from fandom clicks on the rants don't mind the anon hate i started them from ;)#jlannister #ask post

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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 65

Title & Song: Stuck In The Middle With You

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 4800+

Summary: Gen's father reaches out to her in a new way. A slice of domesticity with Alfie and Gen having tea in the bakery.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Vague threats. Possessive Alfie. FLUFF. Domestic feelings. Alfie being cheeky and flirty. Boss Alfie vibes.

**Chapter song is Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealers Wheel.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You decide to spend a rather lovely spring day out with Claire and Aggie. You walk about the market, casual with your purchases, each of you with a wicker basket in hand, happy to be out of your winter dresses. You wore a sweater around you to shield from the still brisk breeze that passes through the late morning air. You stop in for early tea in a quaint little shop before bobbing in and out of stores and boutiques. By almost one, you're hungry again and wandering around Fortnum and Mason wasn't helping.

You see a charming Victoria sponge sitting in a glass case, raspberries and whipped cream both decorated on top, within it that catches your eye. You see the price is far more than the usual price of a Victoria sponge, raspberries aren't in season. You sit and stare at the cake, and wonder how they were getting raspberries this time of year, and if not from you, who? You ask a young man covered in flour and a worker's apron as he passes. He lights up, cheerily telling you they come from a small greenhouse that sells to them in the offseason. Thus the high price for it. You nod and thank him and bite your lip as you look over the various fruits in the case. It is then you decide to become preoccupied with the thought of building a greenhouse, bringing in more money in the off season. That would be your new project for the year and you could reap the benefits the coming season.

"Genevieve?" Aggie startles you out of the thoughts of where to put the greenhouse and how much it might cost to build and run.

"Oh yeah, sorry Ags." you shake your head. "Distracted by this cake." you smile apologetically.

"I'm beginning to tire, love could we possibly return home soon?"

"Don't be silly! Go on home, you don't even have to ask. I'm just dilly-dallying at this point anyway. Go on and call yourselves a car and have a bite if you'd like. I believe I'm going to take this cake to Alfie and see if he's available for tea. If not I'll head on home."

"Delightful plan. I'm sure he'd love to see you." she smiles big, always happy to hear about Alfie and anything to do with the two of you. She'd been so content the past months, knowing you were finally happy and on the road to what she saw as a proper life.

You purchase the cake and have it wrapped in a box and set it in your basket. You depart from Claire and Aggie to walk the few blocks to the car that is still sat in the starting position of where you'd began shopping that morning. You're back to being deep in thought about a greenhouse. How much yield of berries could you have, what other plants that required more delicate care could you grow and sell now? And this was probably why you hadn't noticed the gentleman that was following you. It was your fault really.

"Miss Greene." you hear a man's voice say. And you pay no mind as here, you were not Miss Greene. "Miss Greene!" you hear more intensely called, and again you ignore it. No one here should be calling you by that name. "Miss Greene!" you hear as you feel a hand wrap around your shoulder. Instinctually you turn fast and grab his wrist and begin twisting it before you even see who it is and as you face the man you don't recognize you continue to do so as he tries to conceal his noises of pain. "I'm not here to hurt you, only speak to you." he grits out. You read him quickly, the glasses, the well pressed and clean clothes. With a weak chin and slim shoulders you read him as only a minor threat physically, so you let him go.

You then proceed to grab him by the shoulder and yank him to the corner of a building, pushing him hard against the wall. "Who are you and what do want? What business do you have calling me Greene? It's not my name." you say with a dark tone, showing your seriousness.

"You are Genevieve Greene, yes?" he asks with a confused look on his face.

"I am Genevieve Durand. Not Greene. I no longer associate with that name." you answer coldly.

"Your father sent me." he says, wincing.

"What do you want?" you hiss.

"He wanted me to make contact with you, speak to you myself, as I'm a representative of him."

"Again... what the fuck do you want?" you state harshly, your language catching him off guard.

"I uh... he wanted to make contact to know that you had indeed gotten his letters."

"Yes, I gave him my responses."

"I'm afraid he isn't pleased with them."

"Well that's his fucking problem isn't it?"

"I'm an indifferent party, I've only been sent by someone who works for him to reach out. I don't know the business specifically, just that he is asking you to stop."

You roll your eyes. "Stop?" you huff out a laugh and cross your arms.

"Yes. Something about who you're seeing. Apparently, he's a known criminal? Did you know this Miss?"

"I did yes." you nod with pursed lips.

"And will you stop seeing him?"

"No. My business is exactly that... MINE. I have nothing to do with my father and he should have nothing to do with me. I haven't received money from him in ages, I haven't reached out to him or my mother, or my siblings and that's what he asked of me. I'm no longer a Greene and what I do is no longer his business."

"I believe what he wants is for you to stop seeing this gangster, Miss. Is that so much to ask?"

"For a man that exiled me from my own family? For associating with someone of a certain religion? A religion that I also am? You're fucking right it's too much to ask."

The man was clearly not aware of this part of the dealings with your father. He blinks slowly and looks around, seeming to be unsure of how to continue. "I just know I was sent to have you agree to stop seeing this man. I was told he was a criminal. A gangster, which entails all sorts of things, murder and lying, and thieving. You seem like a hardened but reasonable woman. Surely you wouldn't want to associate with such a person?"

"You don't know me. Let's get that straight right now. Neither does my father. And as far as I see it, the both of you have zero reasons to ask anything of me or tell me what to do. You tell him that I've made my decision. That I'm staying with Alfie and I'll be busy being a dirty fucking Jew as my father loves to call me and my people. I'm minding my own business and if he continues to not mind his, I will not be as gentle in my refusal to his input next time. And if he thinks he can tell Alfie what to do?" you openly laugh and shake your head. "Then he is in for a very rude awakening." you lean into the man's face with a low brow. "Tell him if he leaves me alone. I'll leave him alone. That's all there is to it. Simple."

"So you are refusing?"

"Yes! Were you not bloody listening?" your voice raises in pitch as you tilt your head at the man.

"Then I've been informed to tell you that the next time he reaches out his methods won't be so gentle." he winces, worried you might strike him. And rightfully so.

"Threatening his own daughter?" you suck your teeth and nod. "Sounds like the old bastard." you sigh. "Look. For what hell he has put me through, I am being more than reasonable. I've done unspeakable things to men who have done far less." you give the man a firm nod to show you mean it. You see in his eyes that he does. "I am giving him the chance to live out the rest of his life as he wants. And have me never cross his mind again." you reach up to point your finger into the man's face. "But be certain, if he threatens me again. I will not be so generous. Remind him he has not known suffering. He has not had to overcome anything in his life and that is all mine has consisted of. So believe me when I say that if he comes for me, or Alfie, he will be met with something that will knock him flat on his arse and he will not be able to recover as he lacks the skills to do so. Coincidentally his own devilish behavior has instilled within me the ability to recover and thrive. If he tries to interfere with my life, I will move past it. So he can thank himself for that."

"I will..." he sighs. "I will tell my employer, Miss." he nods.

"Hmmph." you say with an attitude-filled nod as you purse your lips at him and watch him slink away. You cross your arms, your face tight and brow heavy as you walk to your car, you stay that way until the bakery. You decide not to bother Alfie with this nonsense. You could handle whatever came your way yourself. -------- You strut through the warehouse, heels clacking across dirt and brick. Your blue floral dress with its hem swinging about your calves was a bright juxtaposition to the warm orange hues of the steaming, so-called, bakery. Ollie is perched outside Alfie's office, as usual, arms crossed with eyes and ears on alert to the bakery as Alfie conducted business.

"Hello Gen-Miss Durand." he corrects himself. You didn't know exactly what Alfie had said to them, but the men addressed you with lowered gazes and polite nods, the only time they didn't call you Miss Durand was when the newcomers would accidentally call you Mrs. Solomons. Which you didn't mind.

"Hello Ollie." you say cheerfully. "Will he be long?" you ask quietly as the man meets you at the desk set up by a stack of barrels outside Alfie's office.

"Not sure. From the look on his face, he's ready to be done but the man seems a bit difficult." he says with a nod, following you to the desk.

"Will he have a free moment for me afterward? Maybe time for tea?" you ask sweetly, hoping it might give you a more favorable answer.

"He will. He's worked through all morning. He'll be glad to see you." he says with raised brows and a nod.

"Lovely. I've brought a nice Victoria sponge. " You say patting the box that contained it. "And these are for you." you grin and hand him a tin of biscuits.

"You dinnit have to go and do that." he says sheepishly. "Oh hell, these are the good kind." he murmurs as he inspects the round canister.

"I know Alfie is hard on you boys, I can come in with a bit of soft to ease the violence when warranted. And from what I hear business is doing just fine on the bread front so you can all enjoy a biscuit on your break. Isn't going to hurt anyone." you say affectionately.

"You just stay with him and that's more help than anything. Honestly." he chuckles.

"I have good news. I intend to." you say sweetly. "Are the boys on lunch? I don't hear the usual racket?"

"They are Miss." he nods, sitting on the desk.

"I'm going to go give them this tin. Don't let them see those." you point to more expensive tin in his hands. "Can't let my favoritism me known, can I?" you grin.

"Thanks again, Miss. They're on the loadin' dock, as always." he nods in their direction.

"I'll go run these over, send Alfie after me when he's out, would you?" you call out, leaving the basket with the cake on the desk and taking the other biscuits to the workers.

"Hello boys!" you chirp and they drop their sandwiches and stand, lowering their heads.

A unison response of "Hello Miss Durand." from them all like well-trained dogs.

"Calm down, just me." you smile and set the tin on the middle of the round table they sat at. "Brought you all a treat." you announce and clasp your hands together happily.

"Oh my missus' mum buys these on her birthday." one says excitedly. "Thank you Miss Durand." he says, reaching for the tin and popping it open.

"Not a problem at all. You playing cards?" you ask, putting a hand on your hip.

"Yes Miss." one nods.

"Got a spot for one more?" you ask walking over to an empty crate that sat around the table, just like theirs.

They all look at each other confused. "You... uhh... yes?" they all eventually agree with their varying looks of hesitancy and surprise.

"What we playin' boys?" you ask, beginning to shuffle the cards. -------------- "Fuckin' 'ell she's burnt me out!" one man exclaims, throwing his cards onto the table. You giggle to yourself as you pull his money towards you. "Sorry Miss Durand. Didn't mean to speak like 'at in front of ya." he bows his head apologetically.

"No harm. Best language is language said with passion." you lilt and push all your winnings into a pile.

"OI!" you hear from behind you, you turn over your shoulder to see Alfie, vest over his usual white billowy shirt, stomping towards you.

All the men around you stand and you look at them before batting your lashes up at Alfie who's eyeballing all of them.

"Should I stand too?" you chuckle, dusting off your dress.

"What the fuck is 'is?" he says, motioning with his hand to the blokes sitting at the table.

"On lunch, sir. The missus came and brought us a lovely tin of biscuits and she stayed for a few games." the oldest says, voice quick and ready to answer whatever Alfie threw his way.

Alfie looks over them, then to where you had been sitting, seeing the money in a pile and he can't help the smirk that comes to his face. "And what's this?" he asks, looking to you.

"Well I won." you grin.

Alfie hides a snort of a laugh by rubbing his nose. "You can't keep clearing out the house love, I'll start losing bodies." he says, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

"But they seem to like it when I play with them." you pout and bat your lashes at him.

He quirks up a brow and looks to the men. "Yessir." they all say in an unenthusiastic response.

"At least you know they're poor liars." you laugh and turn back to them. "I had no intention on taking your money boys." you roll your eyes and see the tension visibly leave their bodies. "Not gonna keep a child from their sweeties or a man from his drink." you say obviously. "You boys know what you lost?" you ask.

"Yes Miss." they all answer and you chuckle.

"Of course you do. Wouldn't be working for Solomons here if you didn't would you?" you smile and look up at him.

"You go on and wait in my office you cheeky bugger." he leans in and whispers and you give him a pout for dismissing you.

He grunts and lowers his brow. "Don't give me that look Genny." he says in a low tone. The tone struck fear into the men around you but it certainly didn't you.

"What look?" you swish your skirt and smile temptingly at him.

"'At one." he says tapping your nose as you grin when he leans in close so the other men can't hear him, speaking into your ear. "The one where you make me melt and give you what you want." he whispers, looking down at you as if he were scolding you.

"If you can read me so well..." you challenge. "What do I want, right now?" you push back.

"Trouble. Innit nuffin' new there." he hides a grin but you see it in his eyes. "Go wait in the office, love." he says again much more gently.

"Don't be long." you say with a kiss to his cheek. He turns to watch you leave, loving the sight, waiting until you're out of ear shot.

He snaps back quickly to see if anyone else had been looking at you. "What the fuck are you lads doin'? What'd I say about messin' wif me missus?" he says with a low brow and crossed arms.

"We weren't doin' nuffin' sir, she's lovely." the youngest says and Alfie quirks a brow.

The young man's mouth stutters open. "I didn't mean it like 'at, sir. She's very nice. A very nice lady." he nods aggressively.

"She brought us biscuits, she asked what we were doin' we didn't want to say no 'cause 'a her bein' yours and because she was nice enough to bring us the biscuits." the oldest explains.

"And I told ya to treat her like ya mum. You tell me... ya play fuckin' cards with ya mum?" he snarks.

"No but me bubbe and I do." the youngest says and Alfie sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Ya get ya arse handed to ya when ya play with her too?" he jokes.

"No." he shakes his head.

"You lettin' her win? Be honest." he scolds

"No!" the youngest says a little too enthusiastically and Alfie snorts out an amused sound. "I mean... no. She's... she's good." he says quietly and nods.

"She is that." the oldest concurs.

"Good to know." Alfie nods. "Next time. Just go back to treatin' her like you were wif ya's mum's, right? Politely dismiss her. She'll cause no trouble." he says with a sigh and letting his arms go back to his sides.

"Seems rather impossible, sir. Tony's mum looks like a bull." the youngest adds.

"Oh fuck off, yours looks like those birds that hang about St Paul's." Tony barks back.

Alfie sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Right lads... treat her like... angel then... yeah? Like she is already Mrs. Solomons and I'd kill you if you even looked at her cross. Because I would." he gives a heavy nod. "Treat her like SHE could fuckin' kill you for lookin' at her cross because she bloody well could, right?" he says with pursed lips. "And I wunnit fuckin' stop her." he adds with a wag of his fingers.

They'd heard the stories about you, and they knew he wasn't joking. "Yes sir." they all answer in a broken rhythm.

"Right. Now back to fuckin' work." he orders.

"But we've still go-"

"BACK TO FUCKIN' WORK!" he roars, setting the tone back as it should be.

He saunters back to his office where you wait for him, leaning against the table. You move to put your hand on Alfie's stomach and kiss his cheek.

"What do I owe for this lovely surprise?" he asks, looking you over.

"I was in the city and found a cake I thought you'd like so I thought I'd stop by to see if you had the time to have tea." you say innocently.

"I do." he says with a pout and a nod. He nods for the tea to be brought in with a two finger demand. He sits in his chair, legs spread and pulls you down to sit on his lap. "You know you're gonna spoils those boys, love." he says with a scolding tone.

"They were just biscuits," you say defensively. "I taught them a lesson on playing cards at least." you offer with a sassy shrug. "Besides, all you do is scream at them." you let out a huff of a laugh. "Try some honey and not vinegar with them and see where it gets you, darling." your tone soft and sweet again.

"That why they like you so much 'n not me?" he grins, faking his feelings being hurt and you snicker.

"You need to treat the beasts with care." you say stroking his cheek.

“How’s bout treatin ya 'ol Alfie with some care then, eh?” he beckons you closer with a cocky nod of his chin and mischief in his eyes.

"Oh my poor baby." you coo and his eyes shut, a closed mouth smile on his face. "Didn't mean to make him feel left out." you kiss his cheeks. "The boss always comes first, doesn't he? My apologies, darling. If I'd known you felt neglected I certainly would have started fussing over you sooner." you pepper his face and neck with kisses and he hums contently.

"If them's the rules, boss comin' first 'n that, that'd made you the boss wunnit?" he lets out a deep chuckle and you snort at him.

"Cheeky bugger." you giggle, rubbing your nose against his. Once he's purring like a kitten, you tell him of your plans for a greenhouse and he laughs at your ability to get inspired by a cake.

"Since you were such a thoughtful little bird, comin' 'n seein' me for tea 'n bringin' a cake as sweet as you, might I ask ya to extend that charity towards me in the form of a favor, love?" he moves his head and hands in his usual charismatic way, a firm hold on your hip with him one hand, keeping you close to him.

"Should've known that sweet talk was because you needed something." you grin, scratching his chin through his beard.

"Nah. Sweet talk comes 'cause you, love. I just so happened to have been plannin' on askin' a favor of ya anyway." he smirks.

"Sure you were Alfie." you giggle, kissing his cheek. "What is it that you need, darling?" you ask with annoyed tone but you plant another kiss to his temple.

"There's this man that was a big to-do in the jewelry quarter, I worked with him for years, runnin' stolen merchandise through him and movin' things fast for him." he gestures with his hand vaguely. "Seems he has passed away and I need to make an appearance at the funeral." he says with his bottom lip pouting underneath his mustache. "And I fuckin' hate funerals, love. I do." he nods.

"I'm no fan myself." you shrug. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I wanted to ask if you would come with me."

"Ugh. Really?" you whine and sulk.

"Yeah, fuckin' really," he whines and imitates you, earning him a playful slap to the chest. "It's one of them big 'ol Catholic cathedrals and I thought perhaps you bein' familiar with that sorta thing, havin' you there might make it more tolerable, love. Have a show of solidarity by us both goin'."

"Don't make me go back inside a Catholic church, Alfie." you sigh. "So many years spent being caned by nuns, I'm afraid I might have an episode if I had to hear Latin again and feel the air heavy with guilt." you roll your eyes and chuckle.

"Think of it as an excuse to give a real, fuck you to 'em then, love." he grins. "You not bein' one with Christ no more 'n all." he shrugs. "Thought you might wanna show off in somethin'. Ya look awfully stunnin' in black."

"You are a silver-tongued serpent Alfie." you scold and he grins boyishly.

"But ya do. And I can introduce to you loads of my jewelry mates, can't I? You can put some faces to names, yeah? You've even said yourself you should make more London contacts here in the quarter. I know lots of men that'll get rid of stolen jewels for ya, Gen." he inflects his voice upward, trying to use logic over flattery to convince you.

You hum uncertainly. "I'm not sure..." you say with a finger to your lips, eyes up and roaming the ceiling as if you were in thought.

"Cheeky little thing." he chuckles. "I"ll make it worth your while, yeah? How's about some sexual favors, eh? That something ya fancy?"

"You know me too well, Alfie. You're dangerous." you laugh and sigh.

"Come with me and I'll make it so you the next day you couldn't walk anywhere, let alone into a church after what I've done to ya. Yeah?" he grins and winks, pinching your bum, fingers tickling up your thighs and making you squirm.

"Ask me nicely." you giggle and sit up straight, smiling smugly. "Ask me proper and I'll say yes." your smile grows to show your teeth.

"Oh my sweet little Chanah." he laments, running his hand down the side of your face. "Would you do me that great pleasure of accompanying me to this event, so I can show you off? I would personally consider it such a favor to me, yeah? If you would please, come with me this funeral, love." he pulls your face in closer to him and your smiles each grow at the cheekiness you were both giving in to.

"I'll go with you." you say hesitantly but you kiss him anyway.

"Thank you, you absolute angel." he coos and gives you a noisy smooch.

"Sounds like I'll be no angel after you're through with me." you coo and flirt.

"Did you not know?" he feigns surprise. "You're already the bloody devil, I was just bein' funny." he grins.

You laugh from deep in your stomach, the slightest slap to his cheek as he beams at you before holding your hand and bringing your laughing mouths together. "You're a right bastard, Alfie." you chuckle and he wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss.

"Well the devil and a bastard seem like a perfect pairin' to me, love." he hums against you, beginning a heated little snog in his lap before Ollie interrupts, as the poor lad always has to, telling him his next meeting would be in soon. "Fuckin' thanks as always, mate." Alfie grumbles, waving him off. " Always interruptin' me at the good parts, innit he?" he says staying close to your face.

"Maybe next time we should just fuck on your desk, absolutely starkers and see if he stops after that." you titter.

"Ahhhh." Alfie gruffs out in a scolding tone. "Gonna have to get some blinds put up in here innit we?" he chuckles. "'Cause I would love nothin' more than to bend you over and fuck you on top of last month's accounts love, believe me." he grins and you give him another kiss as your rise off his lap.

"We'll save it for later then?" you lilt, straightening your skirt. "Get some blinds put up and we'll see what sort of naughtiness we can get into in here," you say walking over to his desk, you bend over slightly as if to look at the papers. "A bit of role play could always be fun." you give a coy shrug. "Mr. Solomons... I'm afraid I made a mistake on last months accounts... I know I deserved to be punished just... be gentle, please? I know you're such a rough man." you stick your bum out and soften your voice and a wicked laugh erupts from him.

"You are a fuckin' dirty little girl innit ya?" he groans, grabbing a handful of your arse tightly and putting his hand to your cheek. "Gonna leave me with a fuckin' hard knob to greet the next lad? Rude." he laughs and kisses you gently for his tone used.

"Be sure to bring it next time you see me and I'm certain we'll find something to do with it." you smirk and grab his bum back. "Now let me go before someone see's." you giggle as he makes growling noises into your neck and pecks you aggressively with kisses.

"Let 'em fuckin' watch..." he says loudly and playfully as your laugh rises in volume and you push him away before scampering towards the door with a happy smile on your face.

"Mr. Solomons. What would you wife think?" you say with fake shock.

"Oh you filthy bird!" he laughs. "You gonna get yaself in trouble little Miss." he scolds and wags a finger at you.

"I'm always lookin' for trouble aren't I darling? That's what you keep tell me anyway." you shrug coyly and he meets you in a final embrace, an affectionate and short kiss.

"You are trouble incarnate, Genevieve. And I love ya for it." another noisier smooch granted to you.

"I love you too." you coo back, another quick peck. "I'll see you at the church, darling. Until then..." you say pulling away, tapping your finger to his nose. "Behave." you playfully scold.

"Fuckin' useless innit?" a wrinkle of his nose as he grins mischievously at you. He sighs, forearm on the door as he watches that round bum of yours strut down the path to the door. "Ugh. Fuckin' love that little woman." he chuckles, mumbling to himself before he turns back into his office.

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#Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons au #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinder fanfic #tom hardy

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elsaclack · 5 years

Text

HELLO the general consensus is that a masterpost would be Good so!! here i am!! masterposting!! this is split by fandom in reverse-chronological order (newest on top) but i will tell u i’m not even gonna TRY with the one-shot collections bc honestly i have. No Memory Whatsoever as to when i posted those in relation to the independent fics lmao. most are on ao3 only but i will include tumblr links where applicable!! and if you think of one i’ve written (or that you think i’ve written) that you don’t see on this list, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask about it!!

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE

kiss prompt #26

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

AO3

kiss prompt #25

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

AO3

kiss prompt #24

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

[PLATONIC]

AO3

kiss prompt #23

10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

AO3

kiss prompt #22

12. a hoarse whisper "kiss me"

AO3

kiss prompt #21

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

AO3

kiss prompt #20

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

AO3

kiss prompt #19

15. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

AO3

kiss prompt #18

8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

AO3

kiss prompt #17

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

AO3

kiss prompt #16

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

AO3

you’re a king, and i’m a lionheart

“What about...what about Jacob?” An overwhelming sense of rightness settles light as air over Roger’s shoulders as he turns the name over in his mind. Jacob. Prince Jacob. Prince Jacob of the House of Peralta, Duke of Southport. “Jacob,” he murmurs, and he could swear his son smiles. The sun breaks low on the horizon the morning of Prince Jacob’s birth - and far, far away, across a vast forest and a roiling sea beyond it, a lurking Duchess begins to plot.

"In which Jake is the prince notorious for running head-first into danger and Amy is the main guard in charge of keeping him alive."

AO3

and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

He can’t remember exactly how old he was when Halley’s Comet blazed through the sky, but he was old enough to at least understand that what he saw was, for most people, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He remembers the blinding missile-like blur of pure light that streaked across the inky black sky, the feathery trails of starlight that followed along behind her as she tore through the galaxy, the way she flickered and winked as she disappeared beyond the horizon.

And he remembers his mother telling him, in a voice he recognized even then to be warbling with reverence and emotion, how lucky he is to be among those lucky few who will get to witness Halley’s blazing trail twice in one lifetime.

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #3

“sometimes in the dead of night when you think you can’t make it, you might find i left a light beside the bed for you, ‘cause i’ve been there, too”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #2

“That drink you spilt all over me, lovers spit left on repeat, my mom and dad let me stay home, it feels so scary getting old”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #1

“I’ve already packed my promises, they’re waiting by the door”

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #3

inside jokes

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #2

unmitigated joy

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #1

grandma’s kisses

AO3

now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way

“Y’know what? Just - just go ahead. Ruin it. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb ceremony anyways. I love Jake, and I know he loves me, and - and we don’t have to have some big fancy ceremony to prove it. I’m going to marry him,” she says slowly, firmly, “and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

AO3

untitled prompt #25

"Okay so what about a fic based on pregnant amy santiago wearing a bathrobe?"

AO3

i’m on the edge of a broken heart

Amy Santiago is a vision of beauty.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly winded by the mere sight of her. He falls back to his heels, lets his hands fall down to his sides, and watches as she slowly paces toward him. “I was just…I thought I might…clean.”

Aside from reaching to toss her shirt and purse across the chaise to his right, she remains very still. “You never clean.” she finally says after a long stretch of silence.

There is no inquisitiveness to her tone. There is no confusion in her face. It’s a statement of fact, yes, but the complete lack of emotion in her entire demeanor is a clear and flashing neon sign pointing to the calm before the storm.

AO3

je vais t’attendre là

On the morning of April 28th, Jake Peralta wakes to the smell of pancakes burning on the griddle.

He can tell when he rolls just slightly on his side that the blankets have been pulled up and neatly tucked in over the other half of the mattress, but even that slight change in angle brings him in contact with a part of the mattress still warm from Amy’s sleeping body. His shirt is also still warm where it’s stretched across his shoulders - there’s even a spot on the back of his neck that is cooler than the rest, probably leftover from the kiss she pressed there before she rolled out of bed.

He smiles as he rubs his fingertips over the spot. How she managed to burn breakfast in what is likely just a matter of minutes is entirely beyond him.

AO3

that i need you because it’s so hard to be who i am

But then it’s 7:30 and the last of her belongings are finally unloaded and carefully placed in and on her new desk and she’s straightening up the last picture of the two of them from the night they got engaged right beside her brand new computer monitor while she talks about what they should order for dinner (she’s been dealing with a hankering for good Chinese food ever since Vin mentioned the authentic Chinese cuisine he ate the last time he was in Tianjin and Jake is definitely not still vaguely jealous of the general lifestyle Vin leads) and Jake’s stomach is hollow, hollow, hollow.

That’s what makes the rumbling so loud, he thinks.

AO3

you look happy to me

The ball is several hours underway by the time Amy manages to track her children down again - out on the terrace of all places. The doors are propped open to welcome the balmy summer breeze rippling through the curtains (the ones that miraculously survived the dress incident of a few weeks ago), and though the sounds of her guests in fellowship around her and the gentle sounds of the string quartet in the corner command most of her auditory attention, the boisterous male laughter she’s grown all-too-familiar with rings clear and true above the rest.

Of course her children are with Jake.

(She wonders if the day she trusts her nanny to properly watch her children will ever come.)

AO3

you clicked your heels and wished for me

She’s not sure if it’s instinct or her skills as an amazing detective-slash-genius, but Amy knows from the moment she steps into their apartment that something is off.

AO3

untitled one-shot #7

She’s got that look on her face again - the one that makes his heart feel like it’s fluttering in his chest - and when she reaches across the center console to touch his forearm, her hand is warm from the coffee. “Jake,” she murmurs, and his face is burning. “You’re -” she stops and shakes her head, and then starts again. “You are literally the sweetest, most kind and thoughtful and attentive person I’ve ever met.”

He covers her hand with his own and tilts his head to the side, until it’s leaning against the headrest.

AO3

untitled prompt #24

you ever think about what would have happened if it was amy and rosa who worked with hawkins, rather than rosa and jake?

AO3

untitled one-shot #6

The morning of June 15th begins suddenly with a low voice in her ear.

“Amelia Maria Santiago-Peralta,” the voice is quiet, but it rumbles with delight. And even though she groans instinctively at her abrupt return to consciousness, she can’t help but to smile when his lips brush against her ear. “Do you know what today is?”

“Mmm,” she turns her head to bury her face in her pillow for one more moment, before rolling over to her back. When her eyes flutter open she finds him leaning over her, propped up on his elbow, grinning far too brightly for six o’clock in the morning. “It’s Friday,” she mumbles, “and my middle name’s not Maria.”

AO3

let ‘em wonder how we got this far

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much.

AO3

i’ll always do my best to make you see

The merry misadventures of Morrissey and Schmidt

one | two | three | four | five | six

they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me

This is not a dream. It may look like one, what with all the fairy lights and the flashing red-and-blue strobe lights and that inexplicable feeling of weightlessness originating from somewhere down in his bones, but it’s real. It’s really happening. Amy Santiago is walking down the aisle, in a white dress, with flowers in her hands and a smile on her face and enough love to eradicate the concept of hate in her eyes, and it’s real. She’s walking down the aisle, toward the podium, where she’s going to get married. To him, Jake Peralta. This is not a dream.

AO3

you’ll always be the only one

"since im such an evil person, i just imagined... what would’ve happened if they didnt find out about the bomb...?"

AO3

you held your course to some distant war in the corners of your mind

The vast majority of his view through the rear view mirror is blocked by Amy’s head, raised a bit higher than usual thanks in large part to the hump that makes up the middle seat. He’s certain that’s going to present a problem once they’re on the road and moving, but he’s rather grateful for her presence in his line of vision at the moment. She’s not looking at him, but rather, at the tiny human bundled up like a baby burrito in the car seat to her left. She’s got a big goofy grin on her face and her brows keep rising and falling with each changing expression. A smile - probably the billionth in the last two days - blossoms across his face as he watches her make silly faces at their literally-hours-old daughter.

Brand new car, brander newer daughter.

AO3

build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung

In truth, when Jake made the decision to answer Charles’ incoming phone call an hour earlier, he hand’t really expected much. Maybe a live update of something cute Nikolaj was doing, maybe commentary on whatever inedible animal part he was forcing himself to eat at the time, maybe another Cats-related pun. He expected something ordinary.

au where jake and amy find out they're expecting the same way cece and schmidt do on new girl

AO3

kiss prompt #15

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for a few seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but it ignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to be close, and each looks down, smiling softly.

AO3

kiss prompt #14

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #13

Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.

AO3

kiss prompt #12

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

[VERSON 2]

AO3

kiss prompt #11

After sex kisses: Lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving. Soft murmurs about what to do for dinner later, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns. B rolling onto their back and A trailing their lips down their neck, kissing their shoulder, their chest, anywhere they can think of, memorizing B.

AO3

kiss prompt #10

“We can’t do this” kisses: Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads press together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A’s neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #9

“You look beautiful” kisses: Just a soft press of lips to the temple, resting them there for a moment, then smiling down and telling them as much.

AO3

kiss prompt #8

Breathless kisses: A series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need air, so. Sometimes smiles come in between, or sometimes its just breath, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again.

[tw: description of near-drowning and mentions of stomach pumping (y’know standard breathless kiss prompt stuff)]

AO3

kiss prompt #7

In the dark kisses: The movie plays in the background, but A and B are hardly paying attention from the back row. They kiss soundlessly, long and soft, fingers locked. A’s arm is thrown behind B’s seat, wrist bent to curl their fingers into B’s hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #6

Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

AO3

kiss prompt #5

AO3

kiss prompt #4

Comforting kisses: B walks into find A sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, cheeks wet. A looks up, face looking stricken for a moment. B is shocked, and quietly says A’s name. At this, A breaks, face crumpling, and only barely has time to reach both hands out for B before B is there, kneeling at A’s feet. B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

AO3

kiss prompt #3

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #2

“I missed you” kisses: Long and relentless, holding their body close, arms wrapped completely around their waist. A burying their head in B’s neck and pressing kisses there too.

AO3

kiss prompt #1

“I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. A leans down and around, while B turns their head a little, accepting the quick peck.

AO3

on my heart like a tattoo

Amy’s a month old, too young to remember anything, and he shows up on her skin for the very first time in the form of an explosion of color.

AO3

don’t read the last page

There’s dry candle wax on the floor by the window and glitter stuck to the soles of her feet; somewhere down in the lobby their friend is carrying her shoes out into a blizzard, the fruits of her expensive Polaroid camera lying forgotten on the rug. Outside the world is muted and painted white with snow, the pain and misery and heartache of the year behind them left at the 11:59 threshold the night before. They faded to nothing at the stroke of midnight, at the heart-stopping meld of their lips, at his hooded smile to the sounds of their friends celebrating all around them, at the way his whispered we’re getting married this yearwas nearly lost in the commotion. Not quite the blank slate of it’s predecessors - but so much better.

The music ends and they keep swaying, clinging, too stubborn to let go. Their apartment is a wreck of discarded Solo cups and empty bottles and dirty dishes but he is warm and soft and he smells so good; eyes squeezed shut, fingers tangled in his shirt, to the beat of her heart her mind chants forever.

AO3

untitled one-shot #5

Amy’s back is toward him but he can see her arm moving in a slow rhythm - probably drawing patterns in the small shag rug at the foot of their bed - and aside from the slight turn of her head, she doesn’t acknowledge his arrival. The apartment is warm, a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold bartering for entrance at their windows, and even though he can see the snow falling thick and swirling in the space between their curtains he can feel the warmth trickling down his fingers and toes.

“Hey,” he says, voice almost boisterous in the comfortable silence swaddling them both. She turns toward him a little more, peering at him through her lashes - and now he can see the pinkness around her nose has spread over her cheeks and darkened to an angrier color, the used, crumpled tissues like confetti on the floor over the top of her head. “Why’re you on the floor?”

AO3

come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

The worn soles of her Ugg boots scuff along the dingy carpet beneath their feet, and her scarf - now draped over one shoulder - drags along the ground behind her. Her mittens, over-stuffed puffy coat, matching ski pants, and thick wool beanie complete the look; he’s honestly never seen her look more Randy from A Christmas Story than she does in this moment.

It is without question the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

AO3

if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side

For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.

She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy.

And she never, ever imagined cancer.

AO3

in these dark ad quiet hours

There are unanswered texts on both of their phones, lunch invitations waiting to be received, inquiries about dinner plans or post-work drinks demanding responses; there are fresh boxes of his favorite cereal and his preferred brand of hot chocolate in the kitchen cabinets waiting to be poured. Life, their life, ebbs and flows along the perimeter of their mattress. But they ignore it for now, for just a few more minutes of this. For just a few more minutes of them.

AO3

untitled prompt #23

SO..UH...IS IT TIME FOR YOU TO BLESS US WITH ANOTHER DOMESTIC PERALTIAGO FIC???? (pleaseeeeeeeee)

AO3

survival will not be the hardest part

Of course, it’s not a normal Wednesday. Because on this particular Wednesday, Amy’s functioning on two hours of sleep and approximately five and a half cups of coffee. On this particular Wednesday, she’s simultaneously starving and nauseous, having gotten so caught up in this murder case she’s been working with Rosa that she simply hasn’t had the time to eat. She’s exhausted and clammy and probably just about on the verge of succumbing to the flu she knows has been going around the beat cops downstairs.

She’s also exactly one month out from her wedding day.

AO3

even if the skies get rough

It’s sixty-five degrees in the waiting room of Jericho Supermax Prison and Jake Peralta is absolutely disintegrating in her arms.

AO3

the stakes are high, the water’s rough, but this love is ours

This has her eyes splitting open and her brow furrowing at once. Jake may have only been acquitted and released from prison three days ago but already she’s readjusted to sharing the bed again; to find it empty is to choke down a small, skittish wave of panic. The mattress is still warm, after all - he was in bed recently. And now that her senses are starting to fire on all cylinders, she’s absorbing the heavy scent of coffee and bacon in the air and the sounds of Taylor Swift playing quietly nearby.

And then she hears his voice - quiet, but still cracking as he tries to sing along with a high note.

AO3

untitled prompt #22

What if like in the fanfics, amy actually did get engaged to teddy during jake's undercover op?? and the boy comes back actually finding amy's Wedding binder on her desk and jake's like What The Fuck! !!!??!? and emo while simultaneously trying to be supportive bc this is an exciting thing for amy nd he doesnt want to be the one to ruin it. Imagine jake not showing up at the wedding bc he rlly wouldnt be able to take it only to find amy clad in her wedding dress in his doorstep a few hours later

AO3

untitled prompt #21

Do you think amy dies a little inside everytime she catches jake looking at her with the Soft look? like she's definitely seen it and she's probably teased him about it at some point but home girl probably loves it so! much! and she loves him so much and HE loves her so much too! she knows that with her whole being but it catches her offguard sometimes bc this sunshine boy really loves her to bits and he's so good to her and he makes her so so so happy and amy needs to lie down

AO3

untitled one-shot #4

It’s the solid landing of a tiny hand against his cheek, quickly followed by a quiet gasp and a muffled giggle, that rouses Jake from sleep.

AO3

untitled prompt #20

it's canon that jake makes mixtapes so what if he has a box of them labeled with the day they were made and what if amy finds that stash while jake is absent for some reason (based on ur need for Angst™, this reason is up for interpretation) and spends a day going through them, laughing at her nerd bf & his mixtapes ranging from tswift to conner4real to toni braxton until she finds one labeled with the date that he went undercover. again, based on the angst need, this can go so many ways

AO3

untitled prompt #19

How cute would Amy's first Mother's Day be...

AO3

untitled prompt #18

Imagine Jake taking Amy to dinner after her exam to celebrate, and at the restaurant he keeps telling people at nearby tables that his girlfriend just became a sergeant, because he's just so proud and wants to brag about her. And Amy pretends to be exasperated but she can't hold back a smile

AO3

untitled prompt #17

This is the first time in three weeks she’s allowed herself to exist within the walls once stretched to capacity with love, with laughter, with the occasional healthy bouts of exasperation. And really, honestly, she hadn’t intended to snoop. She was just searching for a certain hoodie - one she lived in for months at a time a year ago when this Jake-shaped hole was first blown through her chest - and in the process of looking through old boxes stacked at the back of the hall closet that never really got around to being unpacked, she’d found a binder.

A binder with her father’s name in Garamond typeface emblazoned across the front cover.

(She can’t help but instinctively wrinkle her nose - she would have chosen Tahoma.)

AO3

untitled prompt #16

Hey there! I got an idea for Peraltiago (bc i am trash) One of them gets EXTREMELY wasted and forgets that they're actually dating the other so they start shamelessly flirting with them. The other just plays along. I feel like this would fit Amy cause of "The Santiago Drunkenness Scale" but I'd love to see (in this case, read) a drunk and goofy Jake fall in love all over again. But you decide which is best! P.S I really love your work! ^_^

AO3

untitled prompt #15

Amy has to go in for some kind of procedure, very low key, everything's kosher. However, since she's gonna be out of it for a few hours, Jake has to take care of her.

AO3

untitled prompt #14

Plz write a fluffy fic about when Amy and the ladies + Charles get hammered for rosas bachelorette party Amy either talks to them about Jake or comes home to Jake and is adorable and lovey

AO3

untitled one-shot #3

The first thing Jake does after the bailiff announces the not-guilty verdict is high-five his lawyer. The second thing he does is high-five Rosa.

The third, and perhaps most dramatic thing he does, is turn around, vault the low wall separating the audience from the rest of the courtroom, and kiss Amy.

AO3

untitled prompt #13

Can you write something where jake and Amy go to hook up in the evidence locker or closet or something and end up getting stuck and Amy is like !!!well shit!!! Cause she's claustrophobic

AO3

you did this to him

"So Jake's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing?"

AO3

untitled prompt #12

could you please write what was going through jake's and amy's minds when figgus had jake at gun point??

AO3

untitled one-shot #2

“Jake,” Amy’s voice is low and soothing as she pulls the car smoothly to the side of the road. Jake grunts, too busy flipping through his notecards to verbalize a response. “Jake, babe, please relax. It’s okay. There are seven of them. I can’t even remember all of their names.”

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told me in your entire life, and that includes the time you tried to tell me McGinley asked you to clean out the fridge in the breakroom.”

“Oh my God, it’s been seven years, are you ever gonna let that go?”

AO3

untitled prompt #11

Amy and jake laughing and/or discussing teddy proposing to her

AO3

untitled prompt #10

I can't stop wondering about the scar on Jake's back that he got by banging into Amy's kitchen cabinet. How did it happen? Were they making out? Was he cooking and something fell to the ground? What did Jakey do this time? ... Think of this as a prompt if you need/want one.

AO3

untitled prompt #9

If you're not too busy with prompts, Jake x Amy and the phrase "you fight like a married couple". Thank you :)

AO3

untitled prompt #8

can you write an angsty fic about jake reacting to an old friend dying and amy trying to comfort him??

AO3

when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart

“Do you ever think about all the time we lost?”

Jake asks the question quietly, half-mumbled against her neck. The tone of his voice is the same as it has been for the last hour they’ve spent laying in her bed - light, carefree, relaxed. His fingers trace lightly over her side, having edged beneath the hem of her t-shirt twenty minutes ago to trace circles and hearts and swirls over her ribs; all-in-all, far away enough that he probably doesn’t notice the fact that her heart has just skipped a beat.

AO3

watching through my fingers

Eyes closed, one swollen, a violet bruise that gives way in places to greener colors marking the shape of the fist that put it there, slanted down from just above her brow to her cheekbone. Beautiful and painful, like a sunset that rips his heart out of his body. Her eyelids are delicate and thin, so so breakable, hiding those warm brown eyes from smiling up at him and assuring him that everything is okay. It’s all okay. She’s okay.

He is not okay.

AO3

don’t be fools, thinking this is the last you’ll find

Jake gets nervous for the second time on their first official date when they make it back to Amy’s apartment. More specifically, when they’re standing just outside of the entrance to her apartment. When her hair, so light and wavy and tantalizing, is moving just slightly in the late-night breeze and her eyes are bright from both the alcohol and the laughter that filled the long stretch of time after that alcohol; his whole entire chest is suddenly seized with nerves. He hasn’t been this close to her since the copy room at work earlier, just one hour after their evidence lock-up kiss. He swallows thickly and her eyes flick down at the movement.

His dart down to her lips. He’s just a beat too late coming back up to her eyes.

AO3

untitled prompt #7

I need a scene where Jake is sad so to cheer him up Amy gives him a picture of her and Charles from when they wore the same outfit while Jake was undercover

AO3

untitled prompt #6

I really need to dump 'Jake gets framed for murder/some other crime and has to spend some time in prison, while the team fights to clear his name and get him out' on someone, Peraltiago of course, and may be Doug Judy is looking after Jake in prison. ??? IDK

AO3

untitled prompt #5

Do you think you could write a fic where jake and Amy get into a big fight and go back to their own places but they're both super sad about it and make it up to each other in the morning?

AO3

romeo, save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel

B99 Au idea where Amy never worked in the 9-9 and instead has been groomed by Madeline Wuntch her entire professional career as her protégé, leading to a Romeo-and-Julietesque romance and rivalry between Ray Holt’s own protégé, causing them to have to hide their relationship once they have their asses in gear - Tumblr user stardustsantiago

AO3

and the bells are ringing out

Jake Peralta is sitting in the interrogation room.

It’s strange, Amy thinks as she watches him through the glass. They’ve probably been in this same position at least three dozen times before - her on this side, him on that one - but never once has she been quite this anxious. Never once has he seemed quite so frail.

Never once has he tended to his own minor wounds, or held his own ice pack to his bruised and swollen eye, or watched the door with as much quiet intensity.

Never once has he been a victim.

AO3

we watched the sun set over the castle on the hill

It’s not constant, but it’s enough - it strikes a chord deep within her, reverberating back through the years and vibrating in her very bones, each instance blazing in her memory like a makeshift patchwork quilt spanning back over a decade to that first lonely stakeout in their prologue.

A series of snapshots of Jake Peralta's pursuit of happiness.

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you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain

Once upon a time, there was a knight in shining pantsuit armor who rescued a fair prince from an evil hawk's detention center...

Or, Amy has never been one to lie down at the face of injustice; this is especially true when the one facing injustice happens to be the love of her life.

Post s4 finale fic, in 4 movements.

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should i suffocate or let go

Amy's not sure, really, when her life became so tragic.

She’s not a tragic person. She’s never known sorrow in an intimate way, never really felt her bones turn cold with it. Organization keeps the demons at bay; she knows this as surely as she knows her own name.

Enter: Jake Peralta.

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all my seconds, minutes, lifetimes for you and only you

“You had me worried for a minute, there,” he tells her quietly while she lavishes attention on the faded freckles along his shoulders.

(It’s code: you could have just talked to me.)

She pauses, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, before tilting her head back up to peer at him. “I knew you’d find me eventually,” she says off-handedly. “I just - I freaked myself out.”

(It’s also code: you and I both know I would only have freaked out more.)

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hold on to hope if you’ve got it

He wonders, distantly, what the soul mate science says about situations like this. He wonders as the cool backside of Amy’s hand presses against his forehead; he wonders as he loses touch completely with reality, as his mind comes unhinged and tears spewing down his face spread at an alarming rate across the mattress beneath his violently tilted head.

Who's he supposed to turn to when she can’t be there for him?

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i think i’m tired of getting over it

She’s not sure about the how or the when or the why, but on one warm afternoon in May, Gina is faced with the realization that one Rosa Diaz has become an undeniable cornerstone in her life. Gina almost hates herself for allowing this to happen, for allowing this one person to become so intimately entangled in the life she’s built for herself that the moment that person disappears from it, everything comes crashing down again. Her eyes are open and she can still see colors and feel textures and the world is still real and spinning, except her mind has dropped off back into that void and there is nothing there to pull her out, there is no one, nothing, gone gone gone -

“Gina?” Gina blinks, and Amy Santiago’s face comes fading into view.

[a s4 finale prediction]

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just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

He’s been walking a fine line recently. She’s been out of the hospital for less than a week, and while she’s been incredibly diligent about following all of the instructions the doctor gave her about medicine and physical therapy, she’s been all but belligerent about the bed rest side of things. It’s hard to tell her no, and not just because one pleading look would be enough to convince Jake to commit arson for her; Amy Santiago can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

(Part of him wonders just how much that terrifying look hardened while she was undercover. Part of him never ever wants to know.)

[set in the sleepwalking universe]

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the well-worn pages of my favorite book

"How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!"

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untitled prompt #4

omg idk if this has been done yet, but imagine an au with jake and amy where amy is an artist and jake is a photographer or something and they're each others muses like o m g

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untitled prompt #3

um hi love your writing BUCKETS - prompt for after tonight's ep, jake goes home and accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have kids at some point (a la mentioning he kissed holt - totally unintentional, slips out by mentioning charles in convo with amy, potentially??)

AND

Prompt! The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.

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untitled prompt #2

Prompt idea: get this... jake amy in highschool .. prom is coming up.. amy cant go something comes up.. jake is super excited but .. instead stays with amy at her house playing board games in pjs

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untitled prompt #1

do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

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untitled one-shot #1

Amy can tell something’s off the moment she steps off the elevator.

To the naked eye, everything about the bullpen appears to be perfectly normal. There are three perps sitting in holding, and Charles is bickering with Scully over the coffee pot in the break room. Gina’s engrossed in whatever is illuminating her face on her computer screen, Rosa’s scribbling something in the margin of what appears to be official paperwork, and Holt’s office door is closed. She can see Terry’s back through the open blinds - the two appear to be deep in conversation.

The only one missing is Jake - which is why she’s immediately suspicious.

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baby, you were my picket fence

Amy snatches it and takes a long pull, screwing her eyes shut against the bitter taste, but even as she coughs and splutters as she lowers the bottle again Rosa finds that she just can’t make fun of her. “Good? Or do I need to order another bottle?”

“Another,” says Amy, and then, “he’s gone.”

Rosa stiffens, gaze lifting to scan over the crowd around them. “Who?” She asks quietly when she can’t spot the threat.

“Jake.”

She deflates. “Yeah, he left, like, three hours ago -”

“Not three hours ago, ten minutes ago. And he - he stopped me in the parking lot, as I was on my way out.” She swallows again, thickly this time, and Rosa clenches her jaw. “He confessed - he told me that he likes me.”

For a split-second, Rosa has to fight the craziest urge to laugh. It’s all so juvenile - a boy confessed he liked her and she’s immediately distraught, how utterly cliche - before the implications of it all belatedly hit her. “Oh.”

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this girl right here’s gonna rule the world

Could you write something where Rosa encourages Gina to think about becoming a cop/something post coral palms pt3??? Xoxoxo - ANONYMOUS

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don’t let our hearts freeze

I see a lot of Jake helping Amy with panick attacks but not much of the opposite and you write intimate moments between them so well, so would you write the first time Jake feels safe enough with Amy to call her when he gets a panick attack (establish relationship) ? - FUCKINGDAMNITDEAN

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just say you won’t let go

Hey there, I love your writing, so if you're ever up to, could you write Rosa and Charles watching the surveillance tapes from the evidence lock up in episode 03x01? I just think it would be so funny to actually see (in this case read) Charles watching Jake and Amy killing a guy with their kiss, and Rosa telling him to chill (while secretly smiling to herself). - ANONYMOUS

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my life before was tragic

Prompt! After Jake and Amy start dating, Jake finds the ring from The Bet in Amy's desk and asks her why she went back to get it. - ANONYMOUS

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stuck in second gear

HAS ANYONE WRITTEN A JAKE AND AMY PROPOSAL THAT HAPPENS JUST LIKE MONICA AND CHANDLER’S PROPOSAL - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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the roads ahead are paved with good intentions

i just remembered this and i think it’s really interesting that amy told teddy both times jake told her he liked her, before and after he went undercover - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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heaven and earth have finally aligned

ANONYMOUS: so do you have any headcanons regarding the Jake and Amy stills from the wedding? (I.e. write a short fic based on the pictures of them)

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i’ll be there for you

Hey, do you know an episode of friends where Monica and Chandler are secretly dating and he accidentally kisses her in front of Phoebe and Rachel? Can you write that Peraltiago-stylez? Please please pleeeaase?

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i'm still waiting patiently

i am ONLY asking bc i'm a self destructive mess rn but if ur in an angst writing mood could u write something where like jake has to cheat on amy while he's in florida???? idk????? i love angst

[PLEASE NOTE: i didn't write this exact prompt]

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something like that

i don't know if you're taking prompts but could you do Jake and Amy's first kiss like Nick and Jess. AUish. Idk. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING

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when i’m wiser and i’m older

Jake has six months worth of missed cuddling with one Amy Santiago, and he does not intend to waste any time in catching up - pain killers and airplanes be damned.

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just like a movie, just like a song

Amy Santiago does not break rules.

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where the numb meets the lonely

Anonymous said: Okay so I was just thinking about the fact that Jake and Amy's one-year anniversary probably occurred while Jake has been in Florida- do you think Jake had like a fake anniversary celebration with Amy's selfie? Also thinking about Jake and Amy not getting to be together for their anniversary makes me sad.

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and as our eyes start to close

He’s gone thirty-some-odd years without mourning his lack of a broad English vernacular, but that all changes the first time he sets foot into his new apartment after living in Florida for six months.

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you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me

Pertaigo oneshot where Amy has a really really bad panic attack? It can be at the prescient can be there to - ANONYMOUS

Can you please write Amy having a sever anxiety attack? - ANONYMOUS

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and you’re the sky

JAKE AND AMY MEET THE EXACT SAME WAY JANE AND MICHAEL DO AU (an unassuming beat cop shows up to her epic twenty first birthday door and gets mistaken for a stripper) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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how can i be an optimist about this?

ok for a jake/amy prompt how about their first fight as a married couple? can be as simple or as angsty as you please! - ANONYMOUS

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i promise that you'll never be lonely

Hi this is the same anon with the moving in together prompt so i have two and I'm not sure if these are more one-shotty or if you've done these before but 1)jake and/or amy's inner thoughts during johnny and dora 2) amy calling her mom to tell her about jake and her answering all of those *annoying* mom questions also are you on ff. net and or ao3? sorry you've probably posted about it before but I just started following so i don't know - ANONYMOUS

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and i see colors in a different way

as payback for the dress she wore and having to dance with scully in the bet amy plans a bad date to take jake on even though she doesnt expect to use it and later (while dating jake?) finds her notes while going through and cleaning out some old binders/notebooks - ANONYMOUS

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why don't you sit right down and stay awhile?

Prompt! Jake finds out Amy has never seen diehard and takes her to see it immediately - TARDIISBLUE

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to make up for the times i've been cheated on

u heathen okAY OKAY imma be Terrible and say Jake gets shot protecting Captain Holt and Amy and Rosa react ;;;;)))))))))))))) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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got that good song in my feet

prompt! six drink amy around jake in established relationship (i.e she's no longer lonely,, she's more clingy and emotional?? idk) :))) - FOURDRINKAMY

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i'd pay to see you smile

I've seen AU oneshots where Amy arrests civilian!Jake, but what about one where he arrests her--maybe a bit of a Doug Judy S2 ep type situation where she's flirting with him and he's into it but then catches himself? - GRYFFINDORSWEATER

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six days

Watching the speech scene in The Funeral where Jake is so adamantly willing to get demoted and Ames is trying to convince him that it’s his dream job and he shouldn’t let it go that easily and then he tells her ‘Amy…this good’

Like. I know they were both already way too deep once they started it, but?? I really?? Need someone to write a fic centering around Jake’s PoV during those six days? What was he thinking while he and Amy did Normal Couple Things? Did he constantly get streams of thoughts that revolved around how this is a reality that he’s alive and he’s not dreaming and how amazing this whole thing is that he can openly give her the Looks and hold her hand and snuggle with her and he can openly show her affection because they’re dating now?? I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC PLS

- Tumblr user tall-butt

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i’ve been sleepwalking too close to the fire

Amy goes undercover immediately following the events of Johnny and Dora. Jake and the others try to deal.

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the only proof that i need is you

"in which Amy makes a habit of ranting to the bartender (about her terrible day, her last awful date, the patriarchy), and Jake takes it upon himself to try to make her smile."

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and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

"in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softy to the feds."

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and ignore those big warning signs

“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Please, Charles, I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, just - just go!”

The last words Amy Santiago speaks before waking up alone in a hospital room, handcuffed to her bed.

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i never knew daylight could be so violent

Charles likes to think of himself as the world's first post-apocalyptic gourmet chef.

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and we will put the lonesome on the shelf

They get married on a Saturday evening, and that morning, it rains.

Amy wakes to the gentle tap of steady rainfall knocking gently on the window just three inches back from the very top of her head. For a moment, she lays very still - her sleep-dried eyes blink lazily up at the all-too-familiar ceiling above her head, watching blankly as a dull muted light casts soft shadows that stretch from the window all the way to the ceiling fan in the center of the room. She inhales deeply, so deeply that she feels a faint pop between her shoulder blades, and her eyes flutter shut again.

Seconds later, the stillness of the morning is pierced by an all-too-familiar alarm, and when her eyes fly open, they fly open on the wings of a powerful surge of excitement and adrenaline.

She’s getting married today.

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and i’ll tell you all about it when i see you again

It's snowing by the time they make it home from Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

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love you inside out

Amy cries the night Jake comes home from Florida.

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most nights, i don’t know anymore

A response to the following prompt:

It isn’t a fanfic unless Main Character has to tear their gaze away from the strip of skin revealed above Love Interest’s waistband when they casually stretch their arms above their head.

----

“It’s the way he looks when he talks about her. There’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain it. There’s something in his eyes when he talks about her, or when he looks at a photo of her. He would never hurt her. It’s written all over his face.”

“Are you quoting two-thousand-nine Beyonce at me?”

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your arms wrapped around me and this moment

"How did you know they were the one?"

"I just...knew."

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you know that i am home

It’s the sum total of many moving parts that ends up landing him in such a position at such a late hour; the coalescing of several Unfortunate Incidences, of which he had little to no control over, that thrusts him into such a predicament. A series of bad omens, as Gina would later tell him with a knowing smile, that he just couldn’t avoid, because he’s a freight train careening out of control and this is the end of the tracks.

Or something - something like that. It’s hard to think straight at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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my head is an animal

Anonymous: But: Jake is a sleep cuddler. Amy found this out before they were dating. They were on a long stakeout together and it was her shift. Jake fell asleep next to her clung onto her like his life depended on it. She didnt have the heart to wake him. Also: Gina found it out at a sleepover when they were kids. She woke up to Jake almost squeezing her to death. She screamed and threw a pillow at his head. Jake was not amused. Gina never slept beside Jake again.

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i’m with your ghost again

"wait what if there’s a flashback during s4 of Jake and Holt leaving for Florida and it shows them saying goodbye to Amy and Kevin like I am not ready for that but it’s all I want" - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine

It all ends the same way it starts: with a phone call.

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i’m gonna make this place your home

It's 3 AM and Jake is trying to comfort his newborn daughter without waking his wife. Delirious rambling ensues.

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wake me up when it’s all over

A stolen moment between Jake and Amy in the days after he returns from Florida.

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i know places

Missing moment alluded to in the s3 finale:

"No one knows where I live." "I thought you had Amy over there once?" "Yeah, it was fun. I moved the next day."

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riptide

Request: Could you do a fanfiction where an old ex flirts with amy and makes her laugh and jake realises he’s wants to be the only one to make her laugh? JEALOUS JAKE IS THE BEST JAKE

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new york city, please go easy on me tonight

"There isn't a single person in the world I'd rather have on this case than you."

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rivers and roads

"Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers 'til I reach you."

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thunder

Jake is thirty-five years old when he discovers a new breed of thunder.

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until the sweetest words remain

In her four-year stint as an art major, Amy learned a lot of different words to describe beauty. She studied brushstrokes that communicated immeasurable pain and triumph and hope and fear. She learned how one piece of art could capture a moment so intense she felt like she could feel the artist’s breath on her neck. She felt positive that she’d never meet anyone who could make her feel as much as Michelangelo could with just one facial expression.

Until she met Jake.

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of all the things my eyes have seen

Sometimes healing only comes one piece at a time. Sometimes it's so slow, it's painful. And sometimes it only happens when the people we love push us toward it. A stand-alone one shot that spins off from the events of Heliocentrism.

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heliocentrism

Prompt: Amy goes undercover for some time (months maybe??). Jake goes crazy because he misses her like hell and is worried about her. He is very sad. Then she comes back and they are very cute (lots of fluff please!!)

You only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, only know you love her when you let her go.

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THE GOOD PLACE

the song in my head was all that i had

He's Chidi Anagonye, and everything is fine.

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GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell

The expanse of inky blackness sprawled out before her seems peaceful in spite of Drax’s mind-numbing laughter booming through the Benatar, and though the sound of it grates against her ears even after all the time she’s spent in close quarters with him, she feels her lips twitching, fighting against a smile. He’s off somewhere in the bowels of the ship with Mantis, probably exploring whatever areas they’ve not yet discovered. And she knows Rocket’s busy arguing with Groot near the storage area - apparently explosives don’t mix well with whatever kindling Groot has started to shed. And Peter -

He’d shuffled off to the captain’s quarters with the earpieces of his Zune tucked securely in his ears some time ago.

It seems that all is right in the galaxy.

For now.

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STRANGER THINGS

the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a girl - radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

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watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment.

It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven.

The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

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#em's masterpost #brooklyn 99 fanfiction #the good place fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

marginalgloss · 5 years

Text

the penknife through the boards

‘...days, even weeks later, he was sitting on the grey pebbles of an island, one of the innumerable cold grey Chonos islands, sullenly training his glass not on any wildly exotic migrant but the commonplace resident blackish (but white-footed) oyster-catcher wading about in search of its living. Farther along there was another, a lacklustre female; and neither betrayed the slightest interest in the other: clearly this was not their breeding season, whatever the snipe might think...He fixed it with his telescope, and there indeed was Jacob looking at him through another and making signs – untimely mirth? Whatever the signs were they were very soon lost as the brig rounded yet another great sea-worn cliff in the direction of Surprise, and Stephen’s attention was at once seized by a very noble sight – two black-necked swans flying steadily south, quite low over the water, so low that he could hear the rhythmic beating of their wings. ‘I cannot just sit here, watching pale-footed oyster-catchers,’ said Maturin aloud. ‘But what other course is open to me?’’

Blue at the Mizzen is the last book that Patrick O’Brian finished before he died in 2000, aged 85. There would be another unfinished novel published posthumously but, having worked my way slowly through this series, I don’t feel I need to read it. By all accounts it ends mid-sentence; I doubt it would contribute much in the way of what is fashionably called closure. As it stands this final book ends on a pleasingly optimistic chord. But there is nothing final about it, no sense of an ending close at hand. The writer Jo Walton has written an excellent series of short blogs on this series, and in her assessment of this one she mentions how it seems like O’Brian would have gone on writing this series as long as he drew breath. It’s hard to disagree.

With Napoleon out of the picture, the plot here is effectively a fictionalised re-telling of another episode from the life of Lord Cochrane, namely his role in the fight for independence of Peru, and the creation of the Peruvian navy. Earlier novels have mentioned this for some time, and the politics of it are quite complicated, but for the reader it is largely an excuse for an epic transatlantic sea voyage from Britain all the way to the Pacific. By this stage O’Brian’s descriptive writing is not what it was, nor is his pacing, but it’s solid, compelling stuff. The gentle wash of his long sentences, with their curious pedantry, nested sub-clauses and old-fashioned elegance, is never less than charming.

Even at this late stage, the author is setting up characters to play a greater role in future instalments (though of course there would be none). Christine Wood returns to Maturin’s attention and affection, and there is Horatio Hanson, the son of a Duke who is reluctantly accepted by Aubrey as a midshipman. Hanson redeems himself on a number of occasions, almost to the degree of being set up by the author as a sort of apprentice to Aubrey. There’s even some nice scenes back in England with Sarah and Emily where it seems inevitable that we must return to them at some stage to witness another stage in their lives. Here, more so than in the preceding novels, O’Brian really seems to be taking an interest in the younger members of his cast of characters.

It ends with something of a bang. There’s a big battle, and Aubrey is quite badly wounded in the melee. In fact he comes out of it far worse than in any recent confrontation. But once word of his exploits reaches home, his dream is granted, or at least he achieves that measure of security which he has long craved: he is made a proper admiral. Thus, I imagine, he sails home a hero. (That is assuming Jack survives his wounds. In another version of this story that happens only in my mind, he dies on the long journey home. But I can’t imagine O’Brian ever countenancing such a thing.)

Maturin has done all right, too; Christine Wood might have refused his initial proposal of marriage, but she does so in such a way that seems to leave it an open question. I imagine a future in which they live together in a sort of celibate, platonic ideal of more-than-friendship, residing perhaps in a quiet wing of the greater Aubrey household. There is a very striking sequence in which Maturin believes he sees a vision of Christine, while riding alone in South America:

‘On the next stretch they passed through an invisible barrier into a thinner, cooler air, and there were his – not illusions: perceptions might be the better word – of Christine again, clearer and sharper now, particularly as she moved across a dark wall of rock. A tall, straight, lithe figure, walking easily and well: he remembered with the utmost clarity how, when she was reading or playing music or training her glass on a bird, or merely reflecting, she would be entirely apart, remote, self-contained; and then how she would be wholly with him when he moved or spoke. Two strikingly different beings; and the delight in her company, as he delighted even in the memory of it, seemed to him essential happiness, fulfilment. Of course he was a man, quite markedly so, and he would have liked to know her physically: but that was secondary, a very remote stirring compared with gazing at this phantasm – this now remarkably clear and sharply-defined phantasm against the rock-face.’

This passage also serves as a fine summary of the relationship between Jack and Stephen. Two strikingly different beings delighting in one another’s company – each entirely apart, alone, yet coming together in movement and speech. This is about as intimate as people can ever get in O’Brian’s world.

***

I’ve now written something about all of these novels. (Unfortunately tumblr does not provide me with a convenient way to list them, but you can find all the pieces by clicking on this tag.) Summarising them turns out to be easy, in a way, because they are so continuous that after a while one blends into the next. They are so very much part of a greater whole that in a very real sense they might as well be part of a single endless manuscript. The final part of it might have been lost but that detracts little from what remains.

These novels are timeless in the sense that when you read them you forget the order in which they were written. There are machinations of plot, but these are mostly incidental. Nothing is allowed to disturb the beautiful essential routine of naval life in the early nineteenth century. Bacon and eggs and toast for breakfast, and coffee. The practice of gunnery in the afternoons, at captain’s expense. Port after dinner and toasted cheese in a silver dish, followed by a duet between cello and violin. There is something comforting about all this. The books are formed around a conservative vision of life which seems alien to life in the twenty-first century. It might even have seemed alien to most people in the nineteenth century. You could say with confidence that these books belong to no time at all.

It is the opposite to when we call something ‘dated’. When we say something is dated, we mean we notice the cultural residue of the time it was made in the details of its production. Almost all films and popular music are dated because they are reliant on era-specific technology as a means of reproduction. Most novels are also dated, for different reasons. O’Brian’s books are not dated. The first book was published in 1969, and the last book was published in 1999, and you would never know this from reading them. There’s no crack in the text against which we can press ourselves to glimpse the twentieth century drifting by.

Perhaps there’s a pedantic argument that says this cannot be the case. Perhaps we can find literary techniques at work in these books that would have been totally alien to a reader in the Napoleonic era. This may well be true. But what I mean to say is that these books do better than most in allowing the author to entirely disappear within them. Better to say, in fact, that the books themselves — all twenty-odd of them — speak with a singular voice best ascribed to the books, and not the author. It is as though they wrote themselves until one day they stopped.

But of course they didn’t really write themselves. In the last few years of his life certain facts about O’Brian came to light that were, at best, embarrassing; at worst, a minor scandal. We learned that he left (or abandoned) his first wife and child while the latter suffered from a disorder of the spine. He may have lied about being an intelligence agent and he may have lied about his sailing experience, or at least his did nothing to correct those misapprehensions amongst his fans. His name was not even O’Brian; his Irish ancestry was, apparently, a convenient fiction. Little of this is awful enough to be placed beyond the category of ordinary human failings, though much of it seems strange, or even cruel. But once known it is difficult to forget about. And if Master and Commander was published tomorrow it seems inconceivable that the same author could escape similar scrutiny for so long.

Today we expect artists to be good people. We need them to be exemplars of quality. We need to admire them. Our expectations for them are higher than they are for politicians or other public figures. It used to be the other way around: the politician would be crucified in the press for cheating on his wife, while artists could sleep with whomever and ingest whatever in the name of expanding the boundaries of the possible. Now, we already expect the worst of politicians. We expect them to lie, to cheat, and even to misbehave in their personal lives, perhaps because we have grown accustomed to accepting the line between personal and professional conduct. But the artist must be always at work. And we want them to be everything we can’t be: happy, secure, modest, successful. With moments of excitement, perhaps, but for the most part we want them to be dependable, capable, calm. We want them to be honest.

All of this is what is so appealing in O’Brian’s novels. Theirs is a vision of a world at work which is also, somehow, a work at rest. It is a very old English vision: the peasant in his field, the craftsman in his shop, the soldier at the gates, and the lord in his tower. All capable, calm, and happy in their understanding of what the world requires of them and how they must relate to it. The ideal mood is of things ticking over under the oversight of a supremely competent leader. An authoritarian? Well, perhaps. Democracy is certainly out of it; revolutionaries and radicals of all kinds are never to be trusted in these books. How much better to be ruled by a benevolent king of some sort. Rule by consent, of course, but it must be a rigid, unspoken sort of consent.

There is something wonderfully comforting about all of this. To give yourself over to someone else — to put all your trust in your own well-being in the judgement of that person — this is what these characters do for one another. The ship is only the symbol of all that: the thing which endures through ingenuity, in spite of everything, even though it is so desperately fragile. There’s a line somewhere in those books where Maturin remarks that he feels safe within the thick timbers of the HMS Surprise, and a seaman laughs, and says that there are parts of the Surprise so thin you could push a penknife through the boards and find the ocean. It is a haunting image, but a resonant one. The boards are always so thin.

#books #patrick o'brian #blue at the mizzen

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baka-tsumibito · 5 years

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VKC/VME SECRET SANTA FIC 2018 [REPOST]

Couldn’t find it in the tags, so reposting! Let me know if you see it orz

Gift recipient: @foliefolio

This is for the wonderful Folie!! (Whose writing sustained me almost single-handedly since the end of the anime 😭) I can’t put into words how nerve-wracking writing this was, especially since I’ve had a ton of fic planned out that have gone unpublished for like...3-4 years?? Anyway, I guess this is finally my foray into ‘posting’ for VKC....and what better way to do it than to write for my idol ✨ !! I love you so much Folie, and I hope this suits your tastes. (And feel free to say if it doesn’t!!! I had a bunch of other ideas, and have another idea draft written out 😂) You’ve been such a big inspiration to me for the past ~16 months ❤️ I hope I can keep reading your writing for a long time to come!!! (Especially Vatican fics ehehe) And above all, I hope your holidays went wonderfully!!✨

(and if you didn’t see this yesterday, I’m sorry it’s late!!!!!!!)

The prompt was pretty open, and suggested some seasonal touches such as Christmas in Rome, night, gold, bells, cold, etc. I think I used most of them to be honest! There is quite a bit of ahem, non-2019-tumbr-appropriate content, so be warned (I was rather careful with the vocabulary though *shrugs*). Actually, 3/4 of it is priests doing the do, with lots of gratuitous Hiraga family mentions (JIN IS CANNON AND I LOVE HIM). [I guess I’ve never really posted publicly above my love for VKC, but I am a die-hard HiraRobe (esp. bottom Roberto) lover. Roberto will eventually cry (before/during/after or all 3) when they consummate their relationship 100%. I don’t think I did my thoughts of them justice here, and if I ever manage to publish again, there will definitely be more angst ; __ ; (There also needs to be more weirdness/religion too.) My current biggest thing is Vatican politics, and the logistics of priests in relationships despite their vows, how they make moral justifications and types of penance etc.etc. which I did not go into almost at ALL, so yeah...] Tumblr formatting is not ideal, so this will probably go up on AO3 once I get a chance to edit. I have a ton of miscellaneous commentary too, so that’ll probably be there as well. Sorry for the long preface, onto the actual gift! [Couldn’t find the read more button, I’m sorry :’) ] *** The winter wind is cold and brisk, blowing across the balcony and permeating the thin blanket draped around Roberto’s shoulders, useless against the frigid air. He cannot hold back a shiver, then another, and he desperately wishes for some form of heat. The door slides open and shut behind him with a click, bringing no respite from the chill. Hiraga, then? Both his brother and his father are asleep in the room behind him. Roberto had been nodding off on the sofa himself, but despite the late hour, it’s time for him to go and give the family some privacy.

Hiraga would be against that; luckily, Roberto can try to convince him out here, in the relative privacy of the balcony. Only God will be their witness – and perhaps, the smoker in the hotel across the way if he stays out much longer. “Roberto,” Hiraga murmurs at his back, arms wrapping around his middle and firmly anchoring themselves around his torso.

Oh.

Perhaps it is not time for this particular discussion then. Maybe, Roberto can allow himself to indulge for a few minutes. But alas, nothing with Hiraga ever seems to go according to plan. For Hiraga’s hands are already beginning to wander, and with them Roberto’s composure is already starting to break. “Hiraga,” Roberto begins, train of thought nearly derailing when a fingertip purposefully flicks against a hardened nub. He supresses a sigh. “Isn’t this a little…” Tasteless? Improper? Ryouta is on the other side of the balcony door, in their room; so is Hiraga Jin –

(kind, wonderful Hiraga Jin who had spoken with him about opera for hours at length, only pausing for a second when Roberto shuddered, expression falling, at the mention of Puccini who had followed Rossini, Verdi and before that,Weber, Wagner and Wetz and Jin had been delighted to find Roberto knew even obscure German composers “Ah, I suppose no Tosca for you then, Roberto-kun,”and when Roberto smiled back weakly, almost in apology,

“That’s alright,” he murmured consolingly. “I can’t say I’m very fond of Madama Butterfly myself.”)

– Jin who has shown nothing but tremendous kindness to Roberto from the moment they met in the train terminal. Jin, who Roberto has only known personally for less than twenty hours and is desperately trying impress, and keep face in front of him at the very minimum. (Jin, who had smiled at Roberto with as much kindness as either of his sons after a single conversation; who had welcomed him into the family – immediately, as Roberto would find out from the paperwork he would receive a few weeks later – Jin, who had insisted Roberto call him by his given name, insisting that any other title would be too stuffy and that one “Hiraga” was more than enough.) (And Hiraga, his lovely partner Hiraga, had made an undecipherable expression upon realizing he was now the only one being referred to by surname.) Ryouta and Jin are only separated from them by a glass door; Hiraga’s delicate hands are currently worming their way through the layers of blanket and underclothes to Roberto’s skin and he can’t— “Hiraga…!”

We can’t, Roberto needs to tell him, not here. No matter how much his body desires, blood thrumming through his veins at the proximity he has barely had enough days to get used to, if at all– since Hiraga kissed him on the stroke of midnight as the crowds on the television in front of them began screaming in celebration, soft mouth pressing against Roberto’s frozen smile, still with surprise and fear, buried underneath the building euphoria – since Hiraga took his bare hand a day later, telling him “My family is coming to Italy to celebrate with us; won’t you join me?” And Roberto hadn’t known what to do with the burst of adrenaline that sent his heart pounding loud enough to drown out Hiraga’s soft explanations of travel plans and cheap hotel rooms post-holiday season – since Hiraga had shown up at his door at 5:50 in the morning, dressed casually but smartly as he usually did on their days off together, taken one look at the circles under Roberto’s eyes and dragged him back to bed (where they had laid together and Roberto hadn’t managed much rest at all when they were forced to rise or be late to Rome) – since touching Hiraga to his heart’s desire became allowed, and now Roberto feels the precarious grip on his self-control he has clung to all this time begin to slip. “Roberto…” comes Hiraga’s voice, cutting quietly through the night air. Rome is much more crowded than the Vatican. Booking a room on an upper floor has its advantages, Roberto muses in an attempt to distract himself from the warmth and pressure at his back. The night view is rather enchanting, what with the colorful array of lights spreading out in the distance. “Roberto..!” Hiraga calls more insistently this time, startling Roberto out of his reverie. He is not accustomed to being ignored, and Roberto must apologize. A kiss to his spine signals that he is forgiven. Roberto lets out a sigh in response. “Bend down please,” Hiraga murmurs at his back, and Roberto reflexively complies. As he slowly hunches over the railing, Hiraga’s lips find the back of his neck. Roberto shivers, not out of cold alone. Each kiss leaves a trail of ice in its wake, as Hiraga makes his way down the slope of one shoulder, then the other. His fingers are occupied with Roberto’s buttons, and as they slowly come undone, more and more skin is revealed to the biting wind, immediately covered by Hiraga’s eager mouth. After some time, Hiraga begins to tire of this, and slips both arms under Roberto’s shirt. He cannot supress a whimper. Thus spurred on, Hiraga’s hands come to rest on his bare chest, caressing him lightly. Still, there is intent behind each stroke, and as one hand flits over his hardened nipple, the other slips lower, stroking the curves of Roberto’s torso and muscles as it descends down his stomach. “…ah… Hiraga, w-wait…” Roberto stifles a gasp as a fingertip brushes the skin along his waistband. Don’t stop, he contradicts himself internally. Please don’t let go of me. He wonders if Hiraga can hear him anyway, intuiting his desires, but reluctantly, Hiraga’s hands do come to a halt before pulling away entirely. “Nnn…!” Roberto lets out unintentionally. The movement of Hiraga’s arms has caused the blanket to shift, leaving his upper body uncovered, bare from the shoulders where Hiraga had worried at the skin with his lips. They are only apart for a few moments, though it is enough for a sudden draft to send him shivering. Hiraga struggles with something behind him. “It’s alright,” Hiraga soothes, “It’s alright. Roberto.” He returns with the blanket, fumbling to wrap it snuggly around the two of them together. Roberto begins to find this struggle endearing as his bare skin is covered once more, although Hiraga’s comfort takes priority. He twists around slightly intending to take over, but Hiraga’s palms come to rest on his shoulder blades, stopping him halfway. “Let me please,” he chastens. Who is Roberto to say no? “Alright,” he allows. He strains to keep still, as his instincts urge him to turn around, to take Hiraga into his arms and keep him there indefinitely. If only, if only… Hiraga’s fussing continues on, and Roberto’s left hand is captured by both of Hiraga’s during the struggle, right hand bracing them both against the railing. Their entwined limbs are somehow even colder – an uncomfortable cold Roberto cannot shake off when Hiraga’s fingers glide away to continue tucking the sheet elsewhere. He struggles to shake his hand free – an attempt to bring it up to his lips and warm it with his breath – but when his hand emerges from the tangle, Roberto’s eyes immediately zero in on the metal band settled snugly around his finger. Behind him, Hiraga has stilled; finished fiddling with the blanket then, or waiting for Roberto’s reaction? A quick glance tells him that the sheet is stretched taut around his chest, already beginning to slide down and bringing his unbuttoned shirt with it. Hiraga is a priest; he has, then, undoubtedly attended the same classes Roberto has, and Roberto aches, aches, to believe that not even Hiraga would mistake the significance of putting a ring. on someone’s. left.

(ring finger) He desperately wants to see what expression Hiraga is wearing at the moment, but his partner’s face is currently buried between Roberto’s shoulder blades, showing no signs of emerging. His own face must look something scary, for Roberto can feel himself start to tear up, wind attacking him mercilessly and deepening the ache. Roberto struggles to rotate his upper body, disturbing Hiraga’s careful wrapping and unsettling his hiding spot. With this new angle, his hip is digging into the metal bars of the railing. Roberto pays it no mind, cupping Hiraga’s cheeks and bringing their gazes level. Hiraga is flushed, eyes darting left and right before slowly looking up at Roberto through his long lashes. His chin is lowered, and he is biting his lip. Goodness, how many times must he be told not to, Roberto thinks with a level of fondness. He reaches out to free Hiraga’s poor lip with his left arm, and both of their eyes are drawn to the shining ring. Hiraga lets out a deep breath. “I,” Hiraga falters, looks away. “Is it… alright now? That is, to…” His voice is soft from embarrassment, but hope shines through in his gaze, drilling holes into Roberto’s breastbone. Roberto cannot tear his eyes away. He gently calls for Hiraga’s attention, and Hiraga jerks his head up, making eye contact. Roberto can spot the moment Hiraga begins to panic, eyes dilating in alarm – after all, Hiraga has always been weak to crying, and Roberto has felt the urge to bawl building since that precious celebratory kiss. “Yes,” Roberto breathes, somewhat tearfully. “I could never say no to you.” Hiraga makes to wipe Roberto’s eyes, but pauses halfway. Roberto can only hold still, anticipation rising with each passing second…… until Hiraga raises himself on his toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, fisting the fabric pooled at Roberto’s waist. *** Hiraga’s lips flutter around the shell of Roberto’s ear, and he whines, softly. He can feel Hiraga, pressing into his hip unashamedly. He craves it, has been craving it maybe since they began their partnership, when Roberto began to feel like the hole in his chest could possibly be filled by the presence of this wonderful man. But right now, they’re outside and clearly visible to anyone who might happen to be watching. The alternative is a room containing the two people he wishes to impress the most, Hiraga’s family. There is no escape. And what about preparation? He hasn’t, oh heavens, hasn’t cleaned, has nothing to ease the slide of Hiraga inside of him, and what if it chafes? Hiraga would hurt, and they’d never attempt it again out of fear, and maybe regret – And what of their respective positions? Caught up by the mood, Roberto has forgotten – or purposefully put aside, as he can never truly forget – what of their vows? Hiraga has told him, the moment reality and dread set in after the midnight kiss, that the Church and God are separate; that God will forgive them this, will grant them this much, that love is beautiful in all forms. He’d quoted scripture and philosophies en masse and while Roberto had been struggling to wrap his aching head and heart around them, daring to hope, he’d forgotten to consider why Hiraga had done so much research. Now, it was all coming back to bite him. Not yet, his heart whimpers. We can’t, not until – until what? Will discussing his deepest fears quell the clamour in his heart, the noise that has refused to subside through time and effort? Hiraga bites down, drawing Roberto out of his spiralling thoughts. His ear stings pleasantly, Hiraga soothing the bite with tiny licks. Not wanting his dismay to be noticed, Roberto turns fully away, grasping the rail with a quiet click from the ring. If Hiraga has noticed anything, he stays quiet, only pressing even closer, throbbing length nudging the backs of Roberto’s legs. Ah. What if he took me like this?

And Roberto imagines Hiraga, slick between his thighs, hidden from any prying eyes by the folds of the sheet carefully draped around their waists. He visualizes the slide, smooth and warm, and aches in empathy. He’d have to cover his face, hide his expression, his tears borne from enjoyment and desire. He keens softly, and Hiraga’s arms tighten around his torso. “Roberto,” Hiraga pants, breathing rather heavily. “Let me see your face please.” And Roberto’s plans go out the figurative window .“…Alright,” he swallows, grasping the blanket and desperately trying to compose his expression while Hiraga manoeuvres him eagerly until they are face-to-face. He ducks his head, and Hiraga takes the opportunity, pushing forward until their lips meet tenderly in their first proper kiss of the night. It does not last nearly long enough. Roberto is left to savour the taste of Hiraga on his lips as Hiraga’s mouth wanders, destination clearly in mind. Roberto’s body takes this moment to remind him that a certain areahas been lacking attention; with a cry, his lower body jerks forward when Hiraga’s teeth brush the spot where jaw meets neck. His front, bulging prominently, hits something – Hiraga’s leg? – and he rushes to apologize. “Ah..Hiraga! I’m sorry—ahh!” Unbothered, Hiraga continues to move lower, shifting his stance until they are touching, chest to groin to thigh. Roberto can’t help but moan at the pressure, their hardness aligned as much as possible with their differences in height. Hiraga rolls his hips forward, lips buried in the crook of Roberto’s neck. Roberto presses his face to Hiraga’s hair. He cannot stifle the outpouring of groans and embarrassing noises he is producing in the face of such intense pleasure. “Ngh, aah… Hiraga, Hiraga, Hiraga…” Hiraga’s name is a litany of pleas on Roberto’s lips. Hiraga shudders in euphoria, rubbing their hips together. Calling his name in return. “Roberto...!” Hiraga pulls away, and the feeling of loss on Roberto’s neck is palpable, but then Hiraga presses their foreheads together and the pang is instantly soothed. Hiraga’s hand scrabbles with the too-tight front of Roberto’s pants. “May I? Please, I, oh, please allow me this…” he pleads, and Roberto has hardly breathed his assent before Hiraga is reaching into his undergarments and pulling him out rather hastily. But it’s enough, more than, even. “….Ah!” Roberto exclaims, head falling back. It’s been a very, very long time since he has touched himself this way; as little faith as he held in his own lifestyle, something about living up to Hiraga’s ideals (or so he imagined) had prevented him from indulging in this particular pleasure, at least in his conscious moments. In his sleep, he might be graced with Hiraga’s warmth only to regret his weakness in the morning, then spend days repenting. Or, he would find himself absently wondering about the stretch of his jaw when contemplating food, imagining the sensation of something inside him when cleaning the bidet (or using it). He’d promptly banish these thoughts, face flushed and guilt building, but. It was impossible to repress his sinful desires for long before they would surface, often at the most inconvenient of times. However, now he is keenly feeling the aftermath of abstaining. The pleasure is all-consuming. His body is ready to give in, limbs wound up tense, focus narrowed in on the tightness and particular sensation of Hiraga’s fist. But he cannot give in, not without giving something in return, not without seeing the rapture he is experiencing reflected in Hiraga’s own self. “Let me,” he rasps, fumbling towards Hiraga’s own straining erection. Hiraga sighs in response, pushing up into Roberto’s palm the moment he is freed. His free arm searches out Roberto’s, and Roberto starts as Hiraga winds their fingers together, jostling the cool metal around his ring finger already warming up in response to Hiraga’s touch. Hands clasped, they tug on each other frantically, racing to completion yet not awaiting the finish. “Roberto…” Hiraga exhales, smiling up at him. The city lights aren’t bright enough for Roberto to make out his eyes with their usual clarity, but they shine nonetheless. Hiraga is beautiful no matter where he is, Roberto reflects, and he leans in to capture that beauty for a fleeting moment. Hiraga kisses enthusiastically, all lips and tongue, and Roberto is content to let himself be kissed, thoroughly. Were this the private fantasy of his dreams, or the corner of his mind he dares not allow his mind to wander, he would take Hiraga’s jaw in hand and show him delicacy. Gentle, slow, yet warm… except, crouching on this freezing balcony, Hiraga is his only source of warmth, and Roberto desires his heat from his toes to his mouth to the depths of his core.

It is, he considers with what little sanity that remains, all too much. Hiraga has barely had his hands and lips on him, and Roberto is already at his limit, approaching climax at an alarming rate; he cannot spare anymore thoughts for the eyes that might be on them, whether it be the smoker from the hotel across the way, or even innocent Ryouta, who would surely come to resent him should he catch the two of them in such a compromising position. Roberto defiling his precious older brother – The sudden glare that blinds him even through his half-closed lids is regrettably not due to their climaxes. Roberto pulls away, however reluctantly, from Hiraga’s demanding kisses, letting go of Hiraga (to their mutual dismay) in order to lift the blanket even higher. He squeezes their entwined hands in apology; thankfully Hiraga does not respond by tightening his hand where it rests around Roberto.

The least he can do is shield Hiraga’s body from sight, as he scrambles for a way to do damage control, although the situation is not promising. Against him, Hiraga is pliant but confused as he tries to figure out where Roberto’s attention has gone. It takes a few, loaded moments before his attention is directed to the room behind him. By fault of pleasure or exhaustion, Roberto is not sure, his eyes take what feels like minutes to adjust. What had seemed blinding a few moments before is only a small lamp, mounted next to an empty armchair where Ryouta had curled up for the evening despite the inviting bed beside him. Jin takes up half of said bed now, spread out on top of the sheets and still in his day clothes. He doesn’t seem to have moved from where Roberto had last seen him before heading outside, unsure if pulling the blankets up around him would be too much, or. Well. All the more he should leave them be, before he intruded too much, Roberto had reasoned, then promptly fled to the balcony. Roberto stiffens as he spots Ryouta exit the bathroom, rubbing his eyes blearily and looking very much half-asleep. More or less relaxed, Hiraga leans against his chest, exuding more calm than Roberto feels as Ryouta climbs onto the bed and settles in next to his father. They observe silently for a little longer, perhaps bound by some mutual understanding built after years of partnership, watching him slip deeper into sleep. The lamp is left forgotten. Hiraga is the first to break the silence, laughing softly. He turns back to Roberto, looking pleased. “Roberto,” he begins. “Shall we head inside? So you don’t fall ill.”

How he is so unruffled when they were nearly caught in the act, Roberto cannot fathom. Still, he would hate to ruin the moment, to burst the bubble with whys and what ifs. Steeling himself, he leans in to rest their heads together. Moving their coupling into the room where Hiraga’s family is sleeping is unthinkable, and the inevitable end to their encounter if they do go inside hurts just as much. Hiraga’s hand is hot and fidgeting around him, and a distant part of Roberto is ashamed that his erection has not flagged in the slightest. Not yet. I don’t want this to end yet. “Hiraga,” Roberto tells him. “Please…don’t stop.” And with that, Roberto gently grabs Hiraga’s length, bringing them together; the heat of them combined is electric. He can hardly keep his eyes open wide enough to take in the details of Hiraga’s beautiful face: eyelids fluttering, mouth gasping, bangs sticking to his face with what must be a cold sweat. “Roberto…hnngh…” Hiraga groans, letting go and allowing Roberto to take care of bringing them over the edge. Roberto is infinitely grateful that Hiraga, intentionally or not, takes the blanket in hand briefly before allowing his free hand to roam around Roberto’s bare chest once more. It’s much warmer without the slick from their pre-cum freezing in the breeze. Hiraga’s hand wanders up to Roberto’s right cheek, pulling him back in for another kiss. He licks into Roberto’s mouth, tongue wandering up and down teeth, along the roof of his mouth, and twining their tongues together. The intensity of it all brings Roberto right back to the precipice he had been teetering on the edge of not long before. It’s all he can do to keep stroking them, although admittedly Hiraga thrusting against him is doing much more than the periodic buckling of his own hips. “Hiraga, Hiraga…” he whispers into the kiss, and Hiraga sucks Roberto’s tongue into his mouth. “Nnn…” When Hiraga pulls away, Roberto follows. The next words he speaks are against Roberto’s lips. “Roberto,” Hiraga forces out. “Please.” His voice takes on a deeper timbre, lower than Roberto has ever hear from him. It’s incredibly attractive, just as much as the near-growl that comes out next. “Please,” “call my name.” Roberto’s heart lurches. (And oh, if this hasn’t been building all day, since he’d caught Hiraga staring at them wistfully) (“Here, Roberto-nii-san!” “Thank you Ryouta-kun.”) ( “Has Kou been giving you much trouble, Roberto-kun?” “Not too much, Jin-san. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Right, Hiraga?”) ( “Onii-san, your expression is scary…”) A swell of affection rises in him, and Roberto presses his lips to Hiraga’s ear before he whispers, “Kou.” The effect is instantaneous; Hiraga cries out, jerks his hips into Roberto’s hand, and squeezes Roberto’s other palm. The ring digs into his skin, and the reminder that Hiraga had gotten him a ring paired with the sudden, aggressive crash of lips on his is enough to knock enough awareness into him. Oh, Roberto thinks, feeling somewhat removed. This isn’t a dream.

He’s embracing (making love to?) Hiraga for the first time; the thought consumes him, sends his eyes watering, and his body chooses that moment to give in. *** Roberto is vaguely conscious of Hiraga calling his name during his release. When Hiraga captures his lips once more, softly this time, he feels himself returning to the present. Hiraga pulls away gradually. “Have you come back to me yet?” he murmurs, and the words are endearing enough that Roberto kisses him again, and again, until his cooling body interrupts, and he must pull away to stifle a sneeze. “Oh, Roberto,” Hiraga says dreamily. Roberto stares at him. “You were so beautiful when you came.” Roberto cannot help the flush that rises to his cheeks, his ears, and quite possibly his neck too. The tears he has been holding in all night decide to overflow, much to his embarrassment. “Aah, uuuu…” Roberto turns his head to the side, extricating his left hand from Hiraga’s grasp to cover his face. Surprisingly, Hiraga lets him, and does not startle at the sight of his tears. Instead, he wraps both arms around Roberto’s waist and holds him close.

It’s warm. What is also warm – and somehow still not deflating – is Hiraga’s member, still grasped in Roberto’s grip with his own, softening and growing oversensitive, length. Hiraga has not come yet. Staring at the crown of Hiraga’s head, Roberto’s muddled mind reaches this conclusion much too slowly. Mustn’t it be painful? Why hadn’t he said – this is Hiraga, selfless to a fault. Of course he hadn’t said anything. Roberto must take care of him. It’s partially a selfish desire: what face would Hiraga make, trembling in the arms of ecstasy? How would his limbs tense, back arch, expression contort? Would he come with Roberto’s name on his lips, begging for a kiss, or for release? Roberto needs to find out. “Hiraga,” he says, letting go of them at last. Hiraga whimpers, face still hidden in Roberto’s chest. “Hiraga,” he tries again, this time moving to release Hiraga’s tight grip around his back. Hiraga does not give. “Yes yes,” he wants to laugh, but settles for pressing a kiss to Hiraga’s hair part, then suddenly drops to his knees. Hiraga’s hands, now left grasping at empty air, immediately find purchase in Roberto’s curls. Roberto takes a second to look up at him, framed by several lights from surrounding buildings and the clear night sky. Hiraga has always looked lovely, but this view of him, hair and clothing disheveled, zip opened and framing his aching hardness, staring down at Roberto with eyes filled with something he desperately wishes is love, this view of him is nothing short of angelic. He commits the view to memory as he leans forward to nuzzle Hiraga’s shaft. “Roberto…” Hiraga sounds dazed. Roberto’s tongue darts out to lick along a protruding vein, and Hiraga’s hips buck forward. “Roberto!” But Roberto gives him no time to apologize. He takes the head – that had only nudged his cheek – into his mouth, and sucks. Hiraga hisses, fingers tightening in his hair. “R-Roberto…it’s aaah… so w-warm…” Hiraga stutters, hips moving erratically. Roberto’s hands reach up from where they grip Hiraga’s thighs to trace his protruding hipbones. Remembering himself, Roberto’s dominant hand dips down to cup, then gently tug on Hiraga’s balls. Hiraga sighs. They are already wound close to his body; is he close? More than likely, Roberto assumes. While Hiraga has been surprising him left and right recently, the idea of Hiraga getting himself off frequently enough to build up a decent amount of stamina is still improbable, at best. Roberto mulls this over while taking Hiraga further into his mouth, redirecting his line of sight low enough to ensure his lips stayed folded over his teeth. Hiraga is part of the science division, and Roberto would not be surprised at this point if their personal doctrine concerning abstinence is less strict than what is expected by the Church. For ah, health reasons, perhaps. After all, the human body is designed for periodic release and tension does build up. But Hiraga is not good at taking care of his own needs, Roberto muses as he bobs his head. Hiraga cries out his name above him. Occasionally perchance, but Hiraga touching himself with any degree of frequency is about as unbelievable as Hiraga having a wedding night… and Roberto’s pace falters as the band on his finger grows unbelievably heavy. Hiraga strokes through Roberto’s hair, and it serves as a reminder to concentrate on his task. Thoughts of how Hiraga gets himself off, and what Hiraga’s intentions are should be saved for later, in the privacy of his home. Or, ah, bed. Roberto makes a questioning sound, almost as if to say does it feel good? and Hiraga groans before telling him yes, of course--oh!.. yes, very much so--ahhh... If only he could take him all the way down, Roberto despairs, but his jaw is already nearing its limits. He swallows in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure – but this must feel incredibly good, as Hiraga’s hands clench in a vice grip. His hips pick up the pace and Roberto keeps himself still as to let Hiraga take his pleasure. Roberto, Roberto, Roberto….. Hiraga calls out his name over and over, and Roberto wishes for this to last just a little longer. Hiraga’s hips stutter, and Roberto takes over as best he can, until he can taste Hiraga’s release pouring down his throat. He comes rather silently, Roberto notices, staring up at the long line of Hiraga’s throat. His expression is hidden by his chin and his hair, Roberto observes regretfully. Either way, he is still the most beautiful sight Roberto has ever laid eyes upon. He keeps his lips fastened around Hiraga until he has emptied himself. Roberto gently licks him clean before pulling off and swallowing the load. He stays on his knees, staring up at Hiraga and gently stroking his legs until Hiraga comes back to himself, looks down at Roberto in awe and tugs on him lightly until Roberto gets to his feet. Hiraga leans against him as Roberto wipes first his hand, then Hiraga’s softening shaft with the dirtied blanket. Hiraga’s warmth is akin to a fire, and Roberto basks in it (being outside shirtless in January means it is most likely his sense of temperature that is off). He won’t regret anything if he gets sick, although maybe if either of them had had more presence of mind, they would have made better use of the now-sticky blanket. Hiraga takes hold of a corner to wipe up the small smear he made under Roberto’s eye. Roberto tries to tidy them up as best he can, tucking them carefully inside their underwear, closing buttons and zippers and hiding skin once more. And combing through hair (or at least Hiraga’s; with the way Hiraga had been tugging on his own, he’s not sure he can face the damage without a mirror or two). He leaves his shirt half-buttoned, only for the way Hiraga’s gaze lingers (dare he say, appreciatively). Thus groomed, Hiraga leans in to kiss him. Roberto quickly reaches up to place three fingers on Hiraga’s lips. “Nn?” Hiraga looks up at him in surprise, thrown off. “I, I just…” Roberto does not know how to put this into words without embarrassing himself even further. He settles for pointing at his throat. “Swallowed..” Expression determined, Hiraga reaches up with unexpected strength, pulling Roberto’s fingers away and sticking his tongue inside Roberto’s mouth. He licks him more thoroughly than before, and Roberto is helpless to stop him, mind blank. “It’s alright,” Hiraga tells him as he pulls away, wiping a suspicious wetness off his bottom lip with his thumb. (Roberto doesn’t want to know.) “Of course I don’t mind that. I love you.” In the silence, neither of them expect the second deluge of tears of the night. Ashamed, Roberto prays for the earth to swallow him up. Maybe then, he can spend eternity contemplating Hiraga’s revelation, or giving thanks for this encounter. And then plead for a second. Hiraga leads Roberto, sobbing silently, inside. If the constantly-changing temperatures don’t make him sick, maybe dehydration will. He decides to turn a blind-eye to the blanket dumped on the floor between the empty bed and the wall – he does not have the energy to deal with it now. It is only when Hiraga pulls Roberto into his lap on the unoccupied bed that Roberto remembers his resolve to leave the family their privacy. It quickly crumbles faced with the stream of uninterrupted tears. Roberto is quick to hide his face in Hiraga’s arms. Hiraga strokes his head for as long as it takes Roberto to reign himself in. When his shoulders cease their trembling, at last Hiraga speaks: “Roberto? Did I do something wrong?... Have you, come to hate me?” Roberto’s head snaps up immediately. “No!” He takes a deep breath, and reminds himself to speak quietly as to not wake up the rest of the room. Hiraga’s face is already showing signs of relief.

“Of course not,” he continues in a whisper. “How could you think that? I,” and here Roberto pauses. This is not the ideal place to confess. Hiraga deserves much, much more than a sobbing mess and a soiled sheet on a cold balcony in an unfamiliar room, but. But.

Hiraga has given him so much today. (A confession, a ring, an experience of family. A hand, a mouth, and pleasure Roberto could never put into words.) It’s not fair to keep him waiting still.

“I love you more than anything,” Roberto confesses to him quietly. “I will never, ever come to hate you. I promise.” Hiraga smiles up at him, eyes glittering. “I know!” That throws Roberto off. “Eh?” Hiraga’s grin is infectious. “You told me earlier, when you, ah…” Hiraga’s eyes dart over to where his brother and father lie sleeping. He meets Roberto’s eyes, blushing slightly but with a playful smile. Roberto cannot believe his ears.

“I did?” Hiraga nods happily. “Ah. I see. How unfortunate,” Roberto continues. “I had hoped to remember at least that much.”

Hiraga nestles up to him, seemingly unphased. “It’s alright. I’d be happy to hear it again.”

And with that, every unsettled feeling in Roberto’s heart is swept away.

(I love you, he whispers, and will continue to all night, face hidden in Hiraga’s hair.)

Hiraga wipes away the wet streaks that adorn his face. They take a blanket from their own bed to cover Jin and Ryouta, lost in slumber. The lamp is switched off. The used blanket is adequately hidden, and Roberto washes his face while Hiraga dries his hands. Roberto runs his fingers through his hair, though it is likely a lost cause.

Once they’re done, Roberto allows Hiraga to tug him into their own bed with no complaints. He embraces him tightly.

“Hey,” Roberto whispers to him. “Let’s go buy your ring soon, alright?”

“Make,” Hiraga corrects sleepily, and Roberto is once again sent reeling. He holds Hiraga as he falls asleep, whispering promises of love, and tries to pray, to offer what thanks he can to God for this blessing. (The next day is truly just as exciting: Jin and Ryouta wake up disoriented but happy when they see the couple embracing in their sleep, Roberto discovers that his ring is gold – he won’t find the inscription within until they get home – and Hiraga gets flustered when Roberto calls him “Kou” in front of everyone. Hiraga gets teased about his new, form-fitting wardrobe much to Roberto’s delight, Jin tries to teach them all about adoption processes and family registries in Japan – to everyone but Hiraga’s confusion – and Roberto nearly damages something when he finds several red marks covering his nape, in plain view despite his shirt collar.)

#foliefolio #Vatican Kiseki Chousakan #Vatican Miracle Examiner #Hiraga Josef Kou #Roberto Nicolas #平ロベ #fanfiction #平賀ヨゼフ庚 #ロベルト・ニコラス

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burmecianblackmage · 5 years

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Shipping Info Meme

Answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?:

I wouldn’t say I have an OTP as such, seeing how Sceada is a creation of my own mind, and largely shaped by his interactions. There has been a number of pairings I have been very, very fond of (because, let’s face it, if I’m not fond of a pairing, I won’t ship it, so all are fond to me), but I can’t name an OTP from them. In order to be able to give an answer here though, I’ll name the one that has persisted for the longest now, and that would be MariaxSceada. They have such a lovely and also healthy dynamic between them, it is always a pleasure to write them, even when things don’t go so well.

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?

Off the top of my head, I cannot think of something I would not be willing to write in regards to shipping, so yeah. I’m here just as much for the build up, the pining and longing, the getting together and the happy life as a couple, as I am here for the angst, the hardships, the tragedies and, sometimes, even the break ups.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Well... neither of the parties should be minors in my eyes, but beyond that, it’s really hard to nail down an age gap. For instance, Sceada has both dated woman that were a few years younger, as well as some that have been at least a few years older. So long as their dynamic and chemistry fit, it’s gonna be fine in my eyes. And besides: If we were to say that it can only be so and so many years, how are we going to deal with the ships where Sceada is with someone at least decades older, like Fran? Or centuries, like it is the case with Rosalia, who’s virtually immortal? Nah, I don’t believe in setting down a line at so and so many years.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

To an extent, yeah. There needs to be some chemistry, and a ship has to make some sense for me.I mean, sure, you can always find ways to make a ship work, even if it makes little sense at first sight and appears contradictory, but let’s be real here: There are just some things that don’t work, and that’s fine. I mean, you wouldn’t ship mortal enemies together, right? --- --- what? You would? Oh for crying out loud guys...

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

I vary that depending on who I’m writing with. Usually we can always find a middle ground both are comfortable with, where then things just flow naturally, so to speak. And depending on the partner, that can indeed go quite far... That said, I am also always happy to accommodate those who prefer a lighter route, and would rather have us fade to black. Either way, if explicit stuff is written, it’s always tagged and more often than not under a read more.

WHO ARE OTHER THE CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

Okay, so... lets go through them all, shall we? First, we have Leonora, a ship that sadly grew apart but I still hold very dear. I was lovely, and it offered Sceada so much to learn, and gave him a lot of opportunity to grow, which was sorely needed in those early years. If I’m completely honest, I’m still a bit sad that it ended, especially the way it did... Maria then, as I’ve already mentioned, is a ship that just seems to click so well, with both being able to offer the other something they needed. And it has given us so many memorable and great scenes, too! Like when Sceada found her after a nightmare and comforted her, claiming that no matter what she’d confess to him, he would not love her any less? Ahhh, so many feelings that come from this ship. I’m really glad it developed into such a long-standing one. Selphie is another ship, and probably the one that developed in the most amusing way, namely through a lot of “Hey, what if” and “Wouldn’t it be interesting if” as well as an impressive amount of “I have a bad idea” moments between the mun. And it has had such a great payoff and developed into the probably most progressed ship? They are married now, after all, and have a wonderful baby boy! Truly, I’d never have imagined that when things started all that time back... - nor by how they started, hehehe. The next ship to mention would be Aria, which is a bit of a special ship, to put it that way. It didn’t get much time and room to grow, and was sadly often pushed on the down low due to Aria’s mun being rather busy and sometimes absent for extended periods of time, but... it has really grown on me, you know? It’s a great ship, one that has a lot of potential, and an interesting dynamic, where Sceada is much more in the role of a protector than in any other ship. Not that Aria can’t defend herself, no, that’s not what I mean. But this is a ship where he can offer so so much to her, and be there for her, showing understanding and care and genuine love, and... - uhm, well, you can tell that I am quite fond of it, so... let’s not delve further into this now... After all, there’s many other ships left to talk about still, starting with Fran. This ship is intriguing in that it started originally as a sort of silent admiration and fascination, and has grown to be at the same time one of the most eloquent and one of the most carnal of ships - a weird combination, I know, but it worked here very well. And I am glad that this is a ship that could be further developed in Discord, where it has reached some interesting points indeed... Next up is Rosalia, who I’ve already mentioned in regards to age differences - but what do you expect when a goddess and a mortal fall for each other? I really enjoy the dynamic between them, that started out as mentor and student, and from there steadily grew. And, well, I’ll admit it... I have a soft spot for ships that are MortalxImmortal, or close to that. Anyone who’s ever asked me about my favorite book series and then asked me why I love Spice and Wolf so much can tel you that... Now, we have Emerya, who may not necessarily be a ship outright, but might very well develop into one I feel - I can at least see some potential for it. And should the mun choose to explore it further, I’ll be curious to see where it’ll lead. I can just see them finding a lot of common ground easily, both being outsiders to an extent, and that time they performed with their magic together was an absolute delight. Plus, a free spirit like Emerya is a nice challenge to a somewhat shyer version of Sceada... Then, let’s also not forget Leila, who although it never grew into a ship really, still left quite the impact on Sceada, and across all verses - and that on a ship, no less :D But yeah, that was interesting as well, and deserves mention. Furthermore, there’s another muse played by the same mun on Discord that has a very intriguing relationship with Sceada, so there’s that too. Lastly, let’s also mention both Adara and Anna, who are written by the same mun, and where interactions have been mainly based on certain types of asks. Though, I have to admit, I could well see thing working out especially with Anna, and I’m always open for more interaction between the two of them.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?:

Well, to me it is equal parts communication between the muns and chemistry between the muses. I’ll say this though, I don’t necessarily need prior communication though if things start to develop between our muses, and am always down for seeing how that’ll evolve, but after a certain point, I think communication is an absolute must for this, yeah.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?

Whenever there’s the chemistry and the desire for it. I’m not one to turn down potential ships, really. Though that does not mind that shipping is the most important thing for me regarding Sceada. No, certainly not. It is a nice thing though, and I enjoy doing it.

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?:

Probably somewhere in the middle? I dunno.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

If the list further up wasn’t enough indication, allow me to state so here as well: Yes, I am multiship - with the main verse also being what I call “polyship”, meaning that there’s multiple ships in the main verse that actively affect each another, and can cause a number of problems like jealousy or the like.

WHAT IS/ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP(S) IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Puh... let’s see... what FF IX ships am I fond of... Well, there’s GarnetxZidane for sure, and I guess SteinerxBeatrix too in IX. A few years ago I might have said FreyaxAmarant, but I’m no longer as big a fan of that pairing. Hmm... In other FFs, we have BartzxFaris I’m fond of (or BartzxKrile, but the way the former is played here on tumblr won me over), then I’d say AerithxZack and SelphiexIrvine, and TidusxYuna, though those three are all the kind of where I say, nice that they exist, but not a must for me. Same goes for PeneloxVaan and FranxBalthier. Oh, here’s an amusing one: RamzaxAgrias! And how about RitzxMarche and LusoxAdelle from the Tactics Advance games? If we’re talking cross-game ships, then the first that comes to mind would be MilleudaxLeon, followed by Warrior of LightxLenne. There’s probably more still that I’m forgetting right now, but I’ll spare you those^^’’

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?:

Find chemistry between our muses and play with me - that’s always a good start. And then, let’s talk ;)

Tagged by: @runexxknight here: [x]

Tagging: For my personal enjoyment, I’ll just tag everyone I am or have been shipping with~ @containyourmainposure @artemisxbow @sunny-explosions @nymphaxea @feralstriike @rebirthxguardian @atieflingwarlock (possibly? We’ll see) @dancing-dagger @deriision

#RequestsHeeded #Muse Info #phew.. that got quite long #but it's another one down in my quest to work through my backlog

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aroworlds · 6 years

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Aro-Spec Artist Profile: Alex

Today I have the delight of introducing Alex, better known to aro-spec Tumblr as @arotaro and @mutant-jojos!

Alex is a bisexual, half-Puerto Rican multi-disciplinary aromantic artist and creative with severe ADHD. You’ll find her prolific fanworks on AO3 as EmeraldTrash666, writing primarily for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure fandom. Her bold, colourful art for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hetalia, Pokemon and Vocaloid fandoms is also available on Redbubble under the name StellaHagane.

She writes, she creates digital art and she dabbles in music, sewing and fashion design, single-handedly proving that there’s no such thing as too much creative awesome for any one aromantic!

With us Alex talks about finding the word aro, the power of fandom and creative fanworks, her love of aro Jotaro, the challenges of creating with ADHD, the struggles of being an aro gen writer in fandom and the importance of expressing our aro headcanons. Everything she says is absolutely on point, so please let’s give her all our love, encouragement, gratitude, kudos and follows for taking the time to explore what it is to be aromantic and creative.

Can you share with us your story in being aro-spec?

I guess in some ways my “story” starts out pretty typical. Got older, kept waiting for my First Crush™, never got it, started worrying and trying to force myself to develop crushes. I actually was in a relationship with another girl on a forum I was part of as a teenager, but eventually I realized that I didn’t really like her romantically, and the relationship started to become really unpleasant for me. I eventually felt so miserable that I didn’t even want to talk at her at all, even though we were close friends, but I didn’t want to break up with her - partly because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, partly because we were everyone’s “OTP” and I didn’t want my friends to hate me for ruining that. But eventually I did break up with her, and I’m happy to say she took it with grace and we’re still close friends today! (She’s ace and a great writer/artist herself, too!)

I was part of a very nice LGBTQ+ group as a teenager, but I could never figure out my identity. I felt really ashamed and alone. Whenever I brought up how messed up I felt because I’d never had a crush on anyone, everyone was like, “Oh, sounds like you must be asexual!”, but I knew I wasn’t, and that was the worst part. Even though I knew aromanticism was a thing, nobody ever talked about it. It was only ever in the context of aroaces, so I didn’t know I was aro. I thought I must have had some sort of mental illness or something, but certainly not a legitimate orientation, nothing to be proud of like everyone else.

During that time, I found myself connecting on a deep emotional level to characters like Alphonse Elric, Fujiwara no Sai, the X-Men in general (although I’ve been an X-Men fan since I was literally a baby), basically anyone who was somehow “different” from the rest of humanity, even though I never understood why, since I was a fairly privileged kid who had never experienced much bullying or anything. Weirdly enough, it was Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure that helped me realize I was aro and come to terms with it; I saw an interview with Hirohiko Araki, the author of JJBA, where he was asked what type of girls Jotaro Kujo likes, and replied that he didn’t think Jotaro liked girls. The obvious interpretation would be that Jotaro’s gay, but somehow, one way or another, I decided to go with the idea that Jotaro’s aromantic. Jotaro also happened to be a character I really related to for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, so around the time I was 18 I put two and two together and was like ... oh shit…

Please click keep reading to continue Alex’s story!

Can you share with us the story behind your creativity?

I’ve always been weird in the way I’m very creative, but tend to kinda bounce around from hobby to hobby. Other people draw, or write, or sing, while I draw for a month, and then write for a month and sew for a week and play video games for a week, and then I draw some more, and then I try out something completely new, and then I write again. I think it must be an ADHD thing, idk. In any case, I’ve just always been really passionate about making stuff, whatever that stuff happens to be.

I’ve also always been very much fandom-oriented. Ever since I was a toddler, I used to dictate fanfiction to my mom (back then it usually involved Winnie the Pooh, the Powerpuff Girls, Godzilla, and my dog). I mostly draw fanart. I find that I’m not really capable of writing original stories, but I’m great at getting fanfics in character, and I love writing them. I love taking stories I already love and reinterpreting them, seeing what it would be like if the characters were put into different situations, etc.

Because of my ADHD, I really struggle with actually finishing things. I try really really hard, I really do, and I’ve been trying to push myself even harder these past few years. I’ve made progress, but it’s still extremely difficult, so I’m very sorry for all the projects I’ve abandoned over the years. Sorry I still haven’t finished the fic that was supposed to be done in early March. I’m trying, really. I promise I’m working on the next chapter of BLaD, too.

Are there any particular ways your aro-spec experience is expressed in your art?

Of course, pretty much everything I write is gen. Even if I include romantic relationships in my fics, I never write about romance, just stories which also happen to include some characters who might be dating someone. And obviously I always write Jotaro as aro! That’s really important to me. No matter which AU I’m writing, he’s always aro. (And autistic, but that’s off topic.)

I’m also not really into shipping because of my romance repulsion, but I ship Joseph Joestar and Caesar Zeppeli. The thing is … I’ve always viewed it as a unique relationship, sort of difficult to define as being strictly romantic or platonic or sexual, just kind of their own thing that defies words. That’s how I’ve always written it. I had the sudden realization recently that this strange view on the only ship I really actually like (at the moment, anyway) is probably due to my being aro, lmao.

What challenges do you face as an aro-spec artist?

People don’t read gen fics, and people aren’t interested in aro stories. That’s just the way it is. I do have some dedicated readers, whom I love deeply, but in general… I could post something with a deep plot, something funny and dramatic and witty and touching, something I poured my heart and soul into for months, and it’ll get very few hits/comments/kudos, while someone else could post the same generic 2,000-word romance fic everyone’s seen a dozen times over, with no editing or anything, and get twice the amount of traffic my fics do in half the time. It’s really crushing.

How do you connect to the aro-spec and a-spec communities as an aro-spec person?

I dunno… The aro community feels so small. Online, I have a small circle of aro mutuals who all kind of vent collectively, and I’m part of Arocalypse and a few aro/aspec Discord servers, but I still feel like there isn’t really much of a larger community to be part of in the same way that there is for other orientations. Offline, I’ve never met another aro, or even anyone who actually knows what aromanticism is prior to me explaining it to them.

I also don’t feel like there’s a very unified “aspec community”. As an allo aro, I feel very rejected by the ace community - not to say that I feel like I should be part of the ace community, since I’m not ace, but I feel like they throw aros under the bus a lot. I mean, we’ve all seen the “asexuals can feel love, just like anybody else! … oh, except for aroaces, I guess. But the rest of us are normal, so you should accept us!” rhetoric. Both within and outside the aspec communities, aros are rarely treated with the same priority as aces, even though we’re arguably in a much more difficult position than your average allo ace.

That being said, I’m glad there is an aro community at all. I don’t know where I’d be now if I were still questioning. Probably not in a very good place.

How do you connect to your creative community as an aro-spec person?

As I mentioned, there’s a general lack of interest in gen fics or sympathy for romance-repulsed people in general. It’s really difficult being romance repulsed in fandom spaces, because nobody cares about anything other than ships. There are very few gen fics, and even less that are a decent length, not abandoned, or cater to my specific interests, so I have to write my own. I don’t often have anything good to read; most of the big fics, the ones with cool plots and long word counts and ongoing updates, are ship fics. If I’m lucky, maybe two gen fics will be posted in one week, and maybe one of them will be longer than a few thousand words. Maybe one might even have my favorite characters. But usually genfics are few and far between, and kind of random in terms of what you’ll get. Sometimes I get so bored that I read ship fics anyway, and then I always wind up feeling really awful afterwards.

I’ve written, over the course of the past two years alone, over 20 gen fics. But whenever I vent that sometimes I’d like to actually get to read something, I always get someone telling me, “Well if you want gen fics, write some yourself! You have to make the change! You can’t demand people write stuff for you!” And of course, at the same time it’s totally acceptable to request ship fics from your favorite author, and if you complain that there aren’t enough fics for your rarepair, it’s seen as relatable and totally valid.

Fandom is just … really, really amatonormative, tbh. I hate it. I’m trying to make a difference (I did organize Gen Jojo Week along with my friend Rachel last year, and hopefully will again this year), but there’s only so much I can do.

How can the aro-spec community best help you as a creative?

Aside from reblogging my art and promoting my fics? Talk about stuff. Talk about aro stuff in fandom. Seriously! I know it seems obvious that aro people would like aro headcanons and gen fics and all that, but we need to talk about them more. Nobody outside the community gives enough of a shit about us to have aro headcanons, so let’s get them popular. Talk about your favorite aro headcanons. Talk about your favorite gen fics. Talk about how such-and-such character is totally aro; talk about how excited you are to see aro characters in fics. My dream is for aro headcanons to become just as common and popular as any other type of headcanon.

Can you share with us something about your current project?

This is old news to most of the people who already know me, but my current big project that I’ve been working on for several years now is Between Life and Death, a drama/horror/supernatural JJBA fic.

(WARNING: PHANTOM BLOOD AND STARDUST CRUSADERS SPOILERS BELOW.)

The plot of the fic is that Dio wins at the end of Stardust Crusaders, and after realizing that he has no hobbies other than harassing the Joestars, he decides to bring Jonathan back by sticking his head (which… we’ll just assume Dio preserved for plot purposes) onto Jotaro’s body. Obviously, Jonathan is NOT happy with this arrangement, but it also turns out that Jotaro’s still alive, just not in control of his body. He can still use his stand, so he essentially uses Star Platinum as a sort of proxy for interacting with the environment around him, even though he only comes out when Jonathan’s alone since he doesn’t want Dio to know he’s alive.

Basically, it’s the story of a depressed vampire and a traumatized ghost. It’s a very introspective fic; most of the story consists of conflicts between Dio and Jonathan, and Jonathan and Jotaro struggling to come to terms with their new existences - Jonathan being unable to reconcile vampirism with his personal morals, and Jotaro having one hell of an identity crisis while also mourning the deaths of his friends and family. The plot is picking up, though, and there is an end goal in mind, as well as an eventual sequel!

As for where the story-in-progress is at right now … well, the next “stage” of the plot is hamon training for Kakyoin and Avdol, which will be fun. This chapter also includes several dream sequences, including an extended appearance by Mary Joestar (Jonathan’s mom), and a very serious and dark scene which I almost ruined by having dream!Will Zeppeli refer to Jonathan as his padawan. Yeah.

Have you any forthcoming works we should look forward to?

As mentioned, I’m working on chapter 9 of Between Life and Death! And working on and off on some stuff for the mutants AU. Most recently, on a whim I rewrote the lyrics to Handbeat Clocktower by MOTHY to be about Jonathan Joestar. Somehow this went far enough that I’m making an actual UTAU rendition of this “parody”, and hopefully it’ll be done sometime in the next few weeks. I’m really having fun with it and I hope people like it!

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