#''why did you write this post like this'' idk it just happened. sparkle on its wednesday. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quartzwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it.

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

670 notes · View notes

love-of-creation · 2 years ago

Text

Romance Is Dead (and Internet Friends Killed It): A Love Letter to Lost Online Friends

“Footsteps like dandelions, soft like a whisper. With eyes that sparkles with stars and fairy dust. You couldn't see the wings that blend into your back but you could feel them when you hugged and the wind felt a little more magical. It was as if roses brushed themselves along your face in order to help your beauty but that was impossible. You are already so beautiful that roses fade in comparison. If one were to ask why you are here, many would say that you are the blessing in their prayers. “

A friend of mine wrote me this poem. It's to date one of the sweetest things anyone's ever done for me. And it came from someone I've never even met in person. Someone who I've not talked to in years because I only ever knew her through Tumblr and I don't see her post anymore. Someone who I always call Lily because it was in her username. It's a beautiful poem, it feels absolutely romantic. Something that could very well have been handwritten with a fountain pen and sent in a wax-sealed envelope. I wish it had been. So I could keep it in my box of treasures, so I could touch where her hand did.

But it came in textbox from a girl who was returning a favor (I had written her a little blurb myself though it wasn't nearly as poetic). But I think about these words a lot. How someone who was "just a friend" said something so perfectly aimed to sink deep into my heart. I think and try to figure out why I like it so much. And I think I finally figured it out or at least got close. My primary love language is words of affirmation. Which I'd always found ironic since I tend not to believe in compliments. Not to mention my constant verbal and mental self-deprecation. When someone says something nice my imposter syndrome bristles and screams "No no lies you're a liar I'm awful". So why didn't this bother me?

Because it didn't have to be about me, but it was. This was a poem art in its own right and it could have existed just because she wanted to write. But it wasn't. It was written because of me. Because my earlier words made her smile. Because I was nice to her and it made her want to be sweet to me. It was simple, reciprocal, tit-for-tat but it was also lovely and surprising and utterly tailored to me. The words she chose reflected conversations we had shared. The nickname she gave me was hidden in the tags. It was made for me.

Having someone do something specifically because they think you will like makes things so much deeper. And it’s why I still think about and save this poem years later. While entirely forgetting to reply to the dozens of "hey sexy" messages in my inbox. This woman knew me. Not completely but enough to show she cared in a way that truly resonated. And I am so grateful for that even if she's no longer in my life. Even if she might have been straight as hell and a romantic relationship wouldn't have happened.

So every time I doubt my silly rom-com fueled daydreams for what I want my future relationships to be like I should remember that lovely, loony Lily. Because if someone can do that as my friend there will be people out there who will do something just as meaningful as my partners. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll be able to find people like that to be friends. I would love that. Either way, I know now I don't have to be just friends with people. I Get to be true friends with lovely people. Because rom coms did fuck up my expectations for love. But not because it doesn't exist. Because it comes from more than just romantic partners.

Idk if you're still around @loonylillies but if you see this you're absolutely lovely and I still consider you a friend.

#babe #you and all the other online friends I don't talk to I ope you're doing lovely #know this conclusion may seem glaringly obvious. Well obviously love comes from oter places. You should know that. But to be fair its one o #my writing

2 notes · View notes

hunbomb · 5 years ago

Text

finally | lee jeno

word count: 1.9k

genre/warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, reader is a bit younger than jeno (three years) !!! just for literary purposes!!!!!!!! also this isnt proofread rofl

authors note: wait,,, y’all hear sumn??? me posting for the first time in three years???? lmfaooo yes im back guys but probs not consistently,,,, oop. since i don’t have school for three weeks i might as well just write?? lmao idk i haven’t written in so long but anyway im still on my nct shit so why not write for my boi jeno? who is STILL the loml? also this is like fully my first non-bulleted scenario hahaha. this is HEAVILY inspired by a fic on deviantart for eren jaeger!

summary: as your 18th birthday is coming up, you realize there is no better time to confess your long-held feelings for a certain someone.

“You’re not 18 yet, it’s illegal, you know.” His expression was serious, contrasting the infamous eye smile usually seen on his perfectly sculpted face. Your lips tightened to a line in determination as you stared at him, eager to at least get some sort of response to your wild confession.

It was dumb, you realize. Going for your neighbour, who you’ve been in love with for as long as you could remember. At first, everyone (including you) just thought it was the type of crush that little girls have on like 20-year old celebrities. However, a three year age gap is really nothing compared to that, and you knew it wasn’t something small when you would see him take out the garbage for his family, or when he would play basketball on the streets with his friends. When he left for university three years ago, you heart crushed, your longtime dream seemed to be over. But he always comes back for the summer, and you realized this summer, there was a chance at anything happening between you two, so you went for it.

“We could be very careful! Plus, I’m turning eighteen this year!” You underlined with a strong gaze. You weren’t going to cry, hell no. Or, at least you weren’t planning on it, not unless you hear him say he doesn’t love you directly. And from what you remember, he hasn’t yet.

“That won’t work. Plus, all my friends know you’re younger than me we couldn’t even keep it some sort of secret, or something like that.” He shook his head, but you seemed to have perked up at what he said.

“Wait, you talk about me to your friends?” A smile was starting to find its way onto your face as you saw the boy before you get a little flustered. You’ve never met his friends, so how would they know who you are?

“Uh, no.” He seemed to have gotten a bit flustered at your statement, now unable to look you in the eyes, finding his shoes a bit more… fascinating. This indirect confirmation was enough to make you smile wider.

You laugh inwardly at his highschool-like-antics. His sudden nervousness bringing out some unknown confidence. “You know, you were the one who told me not to be scared to saying what I think.”

“I said it because I didn’t think you would confess to me.” He justified, making you take a deep breath of disappointment. Well, this was it. This was pretty much the end of everything. And as much as you’d like to never see his face again, Jeno was your neighbour, and it was the summer, so seeing him would be inevitable.

“So, is this a rejection?” Your voice came out smoothly, unlike the nerves taking over your insides. Jeno’s eyes narrowed briefly as he crossed his arms over his chest and watched your expression. He couldn’t tell you how cute you looked as you stood before him, or how your eyes sparkled and made the stars dull in comparison.

“I don’t know. Do you want it to be?” He questioned. Your eyes widened and you faced him, craning your neck upwards so fast a pop was almost heard. The disappointment you felt slowly disappearing as you looked up with bright eyes to your neighbour.

“No!”

"Then? You tell me what it is." His lips curled upwards and he would never know how much you'd wanted to kiss him back then. You took a breath, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and stared into his eyes, forming the proper sentence.

The proper sentence. Not too bold, but not too shy. Not too like you, but not too un-like you. Not too detached, but not too clingy. The perfect proper sentence.

“When I turn eighteen, I’ll come and confess to you again.” Not the most perfect sentence, but you were running on emotions, not logic right now. Words were flying off your tongue so fast you wouldn’t even dare to stop them. You looked to the side, trying to avoid his gaze, but your eyes betrayed you and flickered back to him. His expectant yet knowing smile widened, his eyes turning into small crescents. And that was all it took before you, once again, lost control over your words. “And you’ll tell me you love me too!” You almost choked on the words as they left your mouth, making Jeno’s smile turn into a chuckle.

“That’s pretty bold.” He stated, his eye smile shining like a pile of diamonds. Then his hand went through his hair, fingers going through his soft black hair as you dreamt of yours doing so may times.

“You do promise me you’ll say it, right?” Your gaze was penetrating and your lips were pulled back in anticipation. What you were expecting was a nod, or some sort of verbal confirmation. What you got, was neither of those two things.

Jeno’s lips curled up again, his eyes disappearing. “We’ll see.”

Once again, a breath of disappointment left your lips and you sighed in defeat. If he was this adamant on not telling you his answer, he might as well have said no already, instead of continuing to string you along. God, why was this man so annoying, yet so perfect at the same time?

“Promise me!” You partially whined, because of how he seemed to be avoiding everything His hand reached out to ruffle your hair but you pushed it away and stared up at him expectantly. What you wanted was a promise, and he knew he had to give you one, because that would probably be the only thing keeping him from chickening out at your next confession.

“Fine. I promise I will give you a definite answer next time. I’m not promising what the answer will be, however.” Despite Jeno thinking his words would upset you further, they didn’t (he suspected because you already knew he liked you, considering he hasn’t formally rejected you yet).

“Then expect me to be back soon!” You joked, grinning so widely it was like he told you he loved you instead.

Jeno nodded slowly, his chest erupting into butterflies at the fact that you returned the feelings he’s had for quite some time, as he watched you leave his house.

“You can come in, you know,” Jeno says as he steps to the side, letting you enter his house. You leaned on his staircase as he did the same against his wall, and although you were confident, there was still a small part of you hesitating. You'd practiced this enough times to know you'd memorized perfectly each and every word you wanted to say, but the mirror never once gave you an answer that could identify with the one Lee Jeno would give you in just a few seconds.

“I’m eighteen now…” You started. Your voice was steady and you tried to look as confident as you could. He stepped forward, coming off the wall and making his way towards you, stopping just in front, as close as he had stood exactly three months prior during your first confession. His gaze was firm as well, but there was something along the edges of his calm features that told you this time may not go as smoothly.

“I know.” He stated casually, not addressing any sort of implication behind those two words, leaving you to dry like a fish out of water.

“So I’m not underage anymore.” You added, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you kept an eye on the male to decided to play dumb, even though he knew exactly where the conversation was going. Jeno nodded thoughtfully and his head was tilted innocently to the side, but his eyes were carefully tracing your every feature and how it reacted to his words. He wanted to test how long you'd draw this out for, but that didn't really matter since the real test here regarded his own restraint and how long it would hold.

“One of the things that comes with it, yes.” He drew out with a smile, making you take a deep breath and stare determinedly at him. And for a moment, Jeno felt like he was back in his thirteen-year-old self babysitting you and your ten-year-old self asked for a snack. This time though, you were eighteen and he was twenty-one, and the snack you wanted was him.

“So--”

“So?” He cut you off, watching your expression gradually turn more and more impatient with every minute that passes by. He was just as desperate for you to get the point as you were, and he wanted to see you reach it.

Your features contorted in mild anger before you took hold of your feelings and calmed down a bit. Only a bit. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your mouth was pouting stubbornly. God, it was so adorable he couldn't help narrowing his eyes at you softly. You looked like such a kid yet at the same time had matured considerably over the years.

“So be with me!”

It left your mouth abruptly, reminding you of how you lost control over your words during your first confession. Jeno softly smiled in response. “That’s not what I promised.”

Your flustered face, and now downcast eyes were enough to remind him not to chicken out last minute. He stepped closer to you, the space between you both getting smaller and smaller. Big, warm hands engulfed yours and you lifted your face to see his. His eyes had transformed into small crescents once again as he stared longingly into yours.

“Before you think this is going where you may think it’s going, let me speak,” he stated, “when you were younger, I never really thought of you that way. You were six, and I was nine. You definitely weren’t in my thoughts at all.”

You grimaced at that.

“But, as time passed, and we grew up, you grew on me. Soon, I started to want to hang out with you, and I would make sure to play basketball when I knew you were back from school so you could see me as you were walking home.” He smiled sheepishly.

“At first I thought it was because I just liked your presence, but when I left for university, and saw your face, I fully registered that I was in love with you. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t come back every summer. You know I only come back for you, right?”

With that, your heart leaped out of your chest, like a firework ready to explode. A smile started to make its way onto your face as you stared at the boy you have loved for so long.

He loves you back.

He continued, “you made me wait a lot you know. It was hard for me to look at you and not kiss you. Especially after your first confession. God, you have no clue what you did to me.”

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, sighing in satisfaction as he brought his hands to your face and kissed you back. When you pulled away, he brought your face back in and kissed you again, more passionately, trying to convey what he’s been feeling into the kiss.

“I love you so much,” he said between kisses.

“I love you too.”

Finally.

109 notes · View notes

waywardfacegarden · 4 years ago

Note

Hey there! I saw that "ask me about my fic" post and thought I'd ask some questions!! Specifically regarding your "The sun is too bright, it hurts" one; questions 1, 3, 4, 7 and 8? 👀

Hello there!!! First of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, YOU’RE SO NICE!!!!! ;---; Honestly, I love you so much.

Second of all, AAAAAH, THAT FIC. I really love that one, is one of the first works I did for my boys!!!! I have a soft spot for it. (That said, I actually reread it to answer this LOL, because as much as I remembered a lot of it, I also didn’t remember a lot of specifc dialog/narration of it, haha.)

Answers under the cut because I, somehow, managed to do this unnecessarily long, LOL. I’m sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you don’t mind me babbling a lot about my own fic, haha.

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Well, I was inspired to write that AU because I’m weak for the idea of Sasuke and Naruto being childhood friends!! Haha. And I just easily pictured them growing up together with their families being friends. It’s something that I think would happen in a modern au, and I really wanted to explore the relationship of two people growing up together, being there in all of their different phases (and the challenge of having to write them at different ages, because as much as the essence of who they are is the same, they don’t act exactly the same, you know?), knowing each other better than anyone else. They would come to love every single one of the aspects that makes them them; like, even if something must be annoying, it’s endearing for the other at this point, and I find that very tender and soft.

As for the way that it’s written, I find it easier to guide myself while writing if I divide the story in “short stories/scenes”, so that’s why it’s like that (if you look at my fics, I always “divide” my stories, haha). I also really like the narrative that goes, for example, “October. 1990. 15 years old.”, because, (for me at least), it’s so much easier to imagine the environment/context/scene like that? It also gives me off movie vibes, tbh😂😂

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I apologize in advance because I’m going to make this reply excessively long, even when the ask is so simple😂😂 While I was re-reading, I found a lot of quotes/parts that I liked a lot, so please indulge myself and look at all my word vomit, lol (the parts in bold letters are what I especially love about that specific excerpt):

[[AH! AND ALSO! I realized I made a LOT of grammar mistakes in the fic when I was re-reading today, it’s kind of embarrassing ahhh, haha. It needs heavy editing, huh. But anyways, so, in some lines here, I changed some words for what I actually wanted to write/what’s grammatically correct, now that I know more about english, haha. So in some lines they’re a bit different from the actual fic.]]

My favorite, favorite line, for reason, is this one:

Sasuke’s heart flutters on his chest, like flower’s petals in the wind, like a butterfly flapping its wings.

I don’t know, I really, really, REALLY love metaphors and I like the way it was phrased here?? Like, the words I chose sound so pretty for me, haha.

My second favorite line is this one, simply because I’m a cheesy dork:

Sasuke does not know when he fell in love with Naruto; he probably was always a bit in love with him.

Another lines of narration I really, really love:

His love for Naruto reminds him of that. Destruction. Storms, tornadoes. Because it’s brutal, too intense, too strong. It is inexhaustible. It’s unexpected and unpredictable and it makes his stomach ache.

^^ That one is just. Really what I think Sasuke feels like about falling in love, and more than anything, falling in love with Naruto, so I really love it. I have an obsession on making love sound messy and chaotic, too, tbh, haha. Guilty.

[…] and his voice sounds tired, because he’s tired, he can’t stand it anymore, and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid, because Sasuke wants to cry, and because Sasuke wants to kiss Naruto while he cries because Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking, but he can’t, he can’t and that’s hard.

I really like this one because I honest to God think Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking (and I’m saying this like a good thing, he’s my favorite disaster, haha). He’s just, idk, really a disaster, and I can easily picture him having a meltdown because he loves Naruto so much that he can’t even stand it, and he’s tired of hiding it, and he’s tired of everything, and he just wants to fucking cry but he also wants to kiss Naruto AND kiss Naruto while he cries, even if that’s weird. Idk, Sasuke just strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to kiss the love of his life while crying, LOL.

[…] he’s so close that, for a moment, the only thing he can see is blue. Blue, blue, eternal, endless, inexhaustible, precious blue; that swallows him, that overwhelms him, that suffocates him.

I remember being so proud of this part because, as you can see, I’m obsessed with Naruto’s eyes😂😂 And then when I showed the story to my sister she laughed her ass off here LMAO. She gave me A Look. LOL. She saw through me like a book, she knows I just tried to sound poetic but I suck LOL. But I still really like this part.

And Naruto is smiling, and Naruto is there and everywhere and Sasuke wants to drown in him.

So he does.

ASDJLFJLSDFKDL. The idea of Sasuke wanting to drown in Naruto is just. I love it, lol.

He kisses him as he should be kissed. […] He kisses him and Naruto kisses him back and Sasuke almost sighs. Because it feels so good to be real; because it feels like falling into bed after a long and tiring day. It feels like a hot shower against your aching body and like the emotion you feel when climbing a roller coaster.

For some reason, I love writing kisses, LOL, and I wanted to convey so much through this one. Like both of them have been wanting to kiss the other for years, now, but you could feel Sasuke’s desperation especially, and I really wanted the kiss to feel like “God, finally, finally” but also “this is it. This is what home feels like”. I feel like it probably still lacks something, but I still like how I put it into words.

[Now, I really hope you don’t hate me for this LOL, but I’ll add the complete parts I like, even when they have dialogue. It’s this case where bold letters are the lines that I especially love about the part.]

Naruto takes a step forward, a long one, and cuts the distance between them. Sasuke’s heart flutters on his chest, like flower’s petals in the wind, like a butterfly flapping its wings. Naruto is so close that Sasuke can see the three soft freckles on his cheekbones. He can distinguish each one of his golden eyelashes shining against his eyelids. He can see the way the iris in his eyes is darker on the edge; the shape of his lips, cracked, that make Sasuke’s mouth become very dry. And heck, they are moving, so Naruto is talking.

“Sasuke,” Naruto says, and his voice is soft and soothing in the loneliness of the hallway. His fingers are like burning embers when he places them on his shoulder. “Look at me, Sasuke.”

And Sasuke obeys. He turns around and looks at him, and Naruto has a storm inside those pretty eyes, and Sasuke just wants… he just wants… “Honestly, I would kill myself if I had that face.”

God fucking dammit.

“He was talking about you.” He answers, finally, and his voice gets stuck and tightens in his throat.

Naruto blinks, surprise flooding the light blue of his eyes. “Oh,” he says, so low that if they were not four inches away in a desolate corridor, Sasuke would not have heard it.

“Itachi is waiting for me.” He says, because he really wants to leave; he wants Naruto to stop looking at him like that.

“Itachi asked me to check up your injuries, Sasuke. Itachi is not angry. I guess he deduced what happened, he’s smart, so…”

“I’m not hurt, Naruto. Now let me go.”

Naruto stops pressing the cold gauze on the torn skin of his knuckles. The soft fabric burns and itches on his skin, but not as much as the way Naruto keeps looking at him, hell.

They are 15 years old and Naruto is the most beautiful boy he has ever seen. Naruto has grown up and he’s taller now, almost as tall as Sasuke is, and has the most beautiful blue, cerulean eyes (beautiful as the clear water of the lakes, beautiful as the sky on summer mornings), and long, blond eyelashes and cute lips and messy hair kissed by the sun. He’s gorgeous. And maybe Sasuke is paying too much attention, but hell, it’s hard not to.

They are 15 years old and Sasuke would hit a three-meter bully for that boy. Sasuke would do anything for that boy.

He says, with a smile that covers half of his face. His hair is messier than usual and several blond strands fall on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle in the darkness. His blue shirt sticks to him in all the right angles and Sasuke thinks if you were not so damn attractive, I would surely kill you right now, you idiot. But he doesn’t say it, because of course, that’s not something you would say to your best friend.

“Naruto, I’m not going to get into your father’s van in the middle of the night and drive to a Waffle House at twelve in the morning.”

Naruto seems confused. He keeps his balance on the window frame and raises his hand to show him the set of keys. “No problem, Sas. I have the keys.”

- [I really like this one because just, the idea of them going to a Waffle House in the middle of the night is a favorite of mine, and the dialogue of Sasuke being like “i’m not going to drive to a waffle house at fucking 12am” and Naruto being just like “no worries, i have the keys” because he thinks the problem is that Sasuke doesn’t want to steal the car is so funny LMAO. Also, I live for Naruto calling him “Sas”.]

Damn fucking Naruto. Fuck his stupid heart. Fuck the one who decided up there that it would be a good idea to give him a nice smile and a beautiful personality and the eyes of Gods. Fuck the one who decided it would be good for Sasuke to fall in love with a stupid blonde with a heart of gold, stubborn as hell. Fuck the one who thought it would be a good idea for Sasuke to like his best friend. Fuck the one who decided that Waffle Houses could open for 24 hours. Fuck Naruto with his beautiful eyes; damn, damn, damn and fucking dammit.

- [I LAUGH SO HARD AT THIS PART. Like poor dude, he’s just so Done about having a crush and being in love with his Best Friend LMAO. I love how he curses the Gods and Everyone and Naruto Especially while also changing and going downstairs to go out with said crush.]

It’s strange that he’s so quiet, but at least Sasuke can look at him out of the corner of his eye from time to time. And when the light from the headlights on the side of the street hits him right in the face, and Sasuke can admire how beautiful he is, how stunning his eyes are and how bright they look and how his hair is gleaming and the so pretty and alluring that is the whole him, all of him… is those moments when Sasuke thinks that, maybe, it was not such a bad idea that Naruto woke him up in the middle of the night to drive to a Waffle House. Maybe, it’s not so bad that Naruto is crazy. Maybe, it’s not so bad that Sasuke is in love with him.

You know how in that tragic movie where the girl has cancer she says something in the beginning like “I fell in love with him like falling asleep, suddenly and without realizing it”? Yes, well. Sasuke used to make fun of that, even if Naruto thought it was very romantic. But now, as he sees his best friend smiling in a damn suit that fits his body in all the right places, now that he sees him laughing with the gym lights doing wonders on his tanned skin, now that he is listening to him talk and laugh and just being him, being happy… now he understands it. Sasuke does not know when he fell in love with Naruto; he probably was always a bit in love with him. He does not know when it happened or why, the only thing he knows now is that he is completely, totally, utterly, head-over-heels in love with him, so much so that it is ridiculous.

The realization hits him. Hard and strong against his stomach, like the thousands of stones and heaps of earth in an avalanche. Destroying cliffs, roads.

It’s like when you have a leak in your house and you do not fix it and you probably don’t realize the damage it is doing until after weeks the hole on the cement floor is too big to ignore. It’s like the snowball that is falling and growing on the steep hill that you don’t notice until it’s too late.

It’s just like that.

And the realization is so big and so brutal that it terrifies him, because Sasuke not only loves Naruto, Sasuke is in love with him. He loves every damn part of him in the rawest and realest way possible and it scares him so much that he can’t stand it.

“Naruto. I’m not in the mood,” he says, and his voice sounds tired, because he’s tired, he can’t stand it anymore, and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid, because Sasuke wants to cry, and because Sasuke wants to kiss Naruto while he cries because Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking, but he can’t, he can’t and that’s hard.

[…] he’s so close that, for a moment, the only thing he can see is blue. Blue, blue, eternal, endless, inexhaustible, precious blue; that swallows him, that overwhelms him, that suffocates him.

He’s as close as that time when they…

“Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot.” He says, his breath warm against his own lips.

[…]

He’s as close as that time when they kissed.

Naruto is kissing him, Holy…

It’s abrupt and so sudden and Sasuke has not closed his eyes, (Sasuke can’t even believe it to begin with, because they’re kissing), but Naruto does, so he can see the thin, long golden lashes that flutter softly against his own cheekbones. They tickle him. He can see the cascade of hair on his forehead and the mess of color on his skin and everything is so familiar. The cracked feeling of his lips, the blue so close, the hair that tickles Sasuke… It’s making him dizzy. Everything is so familiar, and yet so different at the same time. It’s coarser, stronger.

Naruto doesn’t seem to know what he is doing though; he just keeps pressing his lips so hard against his that Sasuke thinks he might knock a tooth out of him. His fingers continue to cling to his tie, crumpling it between his fingernails, and it’s…

Sasuke doesn’t care. Because Naruto is kissing him, and even if he’s clumsy, Naruto is kissing him, and his heartbeat thunders into his ears, the blood rushes in his veins and everything is chaos.

With Naruto everything is chaos.

Like the storms.

Like hurricanes.

Everything is too intense and strong and…

“You know what?” He says, and he continues laughing, but not so much anymore. “Ino said you would make exactly that face.”

Sasuke blinks. What?

“Did you tell Ino about—” Sasuke doesn’t quite know how to define it, even if he’s supposed to be good with words, so he just manages to move his hand between them in a movement that Naruto would do, and adds, “—this?”

Naruto gives him a sideways little smile. “Actually, I told Shikamaru, Ino was just there.”

Once again. What?

“What?”

Naruto grins. Bright and toothy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Sasuke, teme. You’re easier to read than you think.”

Sasuke is about to yell at him because what? But then Naruto’s smile softens, and it’s sweet and tender and intimate. And the words that come out of his lips moments later roll off his tongue and roll up through the air and dance and spin and hit Sasuke with such force that he practically staggers.

“I love you too, you bastard.”

It’s too much.

And Naruto is smiling, and Naruto is there and everywhere and Sasuke wants to drown in him.

So he does. He takes a step and closes the distance between them and drowns in him.

One of his hands takes him from the suit and brings him closer while the other slips behind him and mixes with the strands of hair that are too soft against his skin. And then he kisses him again. He kisses him as he should be kissed. He kisses the brain out of him and leans against his personal space and enters his bubble of warmth, the warmth that radiates from every pore of his being. He kisses him and gets drunk with his smell and his skin and all of him.

He kisses him and Naruto kisses him back and Sasuke almost sighs. Because it feels so good to be real; because it feels like falling into bed after a long and tiring day. It feels like a hot shower against your aching body and like the emotion you feel when climbing a roller coaster.

It’s all at once.

Rawly intense and gently soothing.

It’s chaos.

And he kisses him again and again and again and again and again and again and again until he loses the count.

“You know what?” Naruto says in a moment. His voice is agitated and his breathing is uneven and unsteady and he is trying to pull more air inside of him. And his lips are a little swollen and Sasuke kisses him again, short and fast, before he speaks again, because Sasuke can’t help it and stop now. “Now that I think about it, I’m much better at expressing myself than you are.”

“Shut up, usuratonkachi.”

Naruto laughs. And it’s the most beautiful thing Sasuke has ever heard before.

ALSO. I absolutely ADORE the part where they’re 15. Like, how Sasuke keeps thinking “Naruto’s too much” because his sole presence overwhelms him, the fact that he keeps thinking about kissing him, the fact that he can’t take his eyes off him, the fact that he hit someone so freaking hard because they said they would “kill themselves if they had that [Naruto’s] face”, the fact that he was jealous of girls noticing Naruto because of his looks, because “yeah, Naruto was so goddamn attractive (he keeps thinking about touching him, wondering about how his skin would feel against his fingers, wanting to touch his face, his hair, daydreaming about his eyes. Dude is just Gone LOL), but ALSO, would yOU DUMB GIRLS HEAR ABOUT HIS STORIES ABOUT RAMEN??? WOULD YOU HEAR HIM BABBLE ABOUT HIS FAVORITE DUMB MOVIES AND POP MUSIC??? WOULD YOU??? WELL, I DO!!!! SO FUCK OFF!!!!!!” LMAO. I LIVE for Sasuke’s Gay Crisis and him realizing he finds his best friend criminally attractive and endearing.

(I’M SO SORRY FOR MAKING THIS ANSWER SO LONG, OMG).

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Because I’m predictable and also because, like I said, I’m a cheesy dork, my favorite line is: “I love you too, you bastard.” It just has so much power, for me. It’s so intimate and I love how Naruto says “too” even when Sasuke doesn’t say it out loud before, because Naruto just knows. It’s so gentle, even when he’s calling him “bastard” (that at this point is actually a pet name rather than an insult LMAO).

Bonus to:

“Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot.”

I really love it LMAO. I like it because I find it funny that it’s what Naruto says just before he kisses him, but also because it’s actually so tender, too??? Like Sasuke was all “MAYBE I DON’T LIKE YOU ANYMORE, HUH?!?! MAYBE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS I FINALLY GOT TIRED OF YOU”; he’s throwing all this drama but he’s actually spilling his heart out and Naruto can see all through it, he can literally see what he’s actually thinking, and it just. Hits. Hard. So he’s just like, “I’m gonna cut this bullshit right here” and goes “Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot”, with a tone that basically means actually that, like “sasuke, you fucking IDIOT. i KNOW. i KNOW. stop hurting yourself”, and it just gets me, haha.

“Do you want to go to the prom with me?” […] “I’m serious, Sas. I want you to go with me.”

I was so excited when I wrote those two lines. Again, I’m weak for Naruto calling him “Sas”, and I wanted so bad Naruto asking him to prom. Even if it’s not with a big gesture, it FEELS like so much for both of them. And I wanted to make sure that it sounded like he wasn’t joking around, even if he made the proposal “easier to digest” by phrasing it later like he was asking Sasuke just because he was his best friend and he wanted him to have fun with him (which, yeah, but he also knew about Sasuke being in love with him, and Naruto was, too, so he was just being assertive in the situation, trying to make it easier for Sasuke because he knows him, and he knows how big it already feels like for him just being asked as a friend).

“Because I want you to take your head out of your ass for a moment and have fun with your best friend?”

Naruto telling Sasuke to take his head out of his ass is my favorite thing ever LMAO.

7. Where did the title come from?

To be honest, I’m TERRIBLE to put titles. I always forget to name my fics, because I focus on the story itself first, haha. I always save the docs in word like “childhood friends au sns” or “christmas au” or things like that, planning to actually name them later, but I ALWAYS forget to do it. I always remember when I actually have to put a name to it because I’m about to post it on AO3 and it asks me for a title first, LOL. So, basically, this one (and all my other titles) came up last minute. I have always liked when Naruto is compared to the Sun (I do it at the end of the fic, too, haha), and I thought the fic itself revolves around Sasuke’s love for Naruto, Sasuke’s journey to get to know Naruto and fall for him, and Sasuke realizing his feelings and being constantly overwhelmed by them because of they’re so strong and so deep and because Naruto just feels like Too Much sometimes (in a good, messy way) to him. So I thought it was accurate to call it “The Sun is too bright, it hurts”, because for me, it basically encompasses what the fic is about: Naruto is too much sometimes that it actually hurts Sasuke, because he Can’t Handle Feelings and it’s Suffocating and Overwhelming and Scary, but it’s okay at the end, because Naruto feels just as much as him. (I actually wanted to add “but it’s okay” at the end, but I felt like it was too long already LOL).

8. Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

It’s not actually real people or real events, but I actually based the scene where Sasuke saves Naruto from getting run over by a car from one of my favorite, favorite scenes in Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. It’s a lot like the one there in the book, but I found it a very Sasuke Thing to do, and I also liked how it lined up with the fact that “Sasuke’s feet moved on its own” in actual canon. Boy is willing to give his life for Naruto in any universe and I respect that, LOL.

The scene where people were talking shit about Naruto’s face is based from a scene I watched on the movie Wonder. I always cry with the movie and I had just watched it before writing the fic, so I wanted to write something based on that scene because it got me hard.

It’s also pretty obvious, but the accidental kiss is there because I absolutely Love it and I have mad respect for Kishimoto for that, so if I can, I’m going to make that accidental kiss happen in every single fic I write for them LOL.

Anyways, that would be all!!!!! I’m so sorry for making this hella long, lol, but I’m honestly so happy you were curious about this fic!!!! Like I said, I have a soft spot for this one, just as much as I have a soft spot for SNS. They will always be my favorite boys and my favorite ship ever. And I really enjoyed re-reading my own stuff and remembering my feelings while writing it years ago. AND IT JUST. MEANS A LOT TO ME???? This fic is from YEARS ago, and the fact that you ask about it just means more than I can express with words. SO, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, HONESTLY.

I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING AN AMAZING DAY/NIGHT. I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BEYOND. HOPE YOU’RE SAFE, OKAY AND HAPPY. <333333333333333 LOTS OF LOVE FOR YOU!!!!!

#asks #my writing #my fics #sns #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING YOU'RE SO SWEET I CAN'T BELIEVE IT #i love you!!! ;--;#i really really appreciate it #and i really really hope you're doing fine #SENDING YOU HUGS AND WARM POSITIVE VIBES!!!!!!!!#the sun is too bright it hurts #this is soooo criminally long tho #i'm so sorry omg #why am i like this #why do i talk a lot

9 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

Text

anon: The artist @franeridart answers all of their asks in one mass post with a read more link so maybe you could try that as well. That way you could answer everyones ask but not spam anyones dash with all of your replys

you genius anon, and you genius artist! I just feel like as of late I have been getting a lot more things in my askbox, and I dont want to overwhelm anyone with spam. so, I will be creating these! unless it’s for y’all thirsty hoes asking for extra parts or whatever from very recent posts, expect this to happen every so often! the rest will be below cut. also first time using photoshop? how’d I do yall??? and also like.... let me know if you like this idea??? if not i’ll just resort to spam :)

@your-parental-figure : IK BUT DETECTIVE GUY CONSIDERED BOTH TOKOYAMI AND KIRI TO BE ALL MIGJTS SUCCESSOR DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT MENT??? THAT MOMENT WATERED MY CROPS, CLEARED MY SKIN AND SOLVED WORLD HUNGER

oh season four episode one, you may have been a filler, but you made me so happy to watch. honestly ngl, I was pretty surprised when he said kiri, not because he has no potential, but because it seemed like the top 4 from the sports festival, bUT FUCK YEAH KIRI AND TOKOYAMI!!!!! IN A DIFFERENT WORLD IT COULDVE BEEN THEM!!!!!

anon: Makeup smut for villain Deku should be good. 100% tender, no chicken

honestly, my favorite thing at this point is seeing you all crumble in fear if i’ll even give you a happy ending, and tbh idk if it will be for villain!deku >:)

@ohmycolie: So it’s Saturday night and I’m just sitting at home 🤦🏼‍♀️ could you maybe do a scenario where Bakubaby and Kiri decide to bring Kami into their sexcapades and after their little adventure Kiri is like “can we keep him?” 🤤💕

hi bby, while I can imagine something of this sort I am only a “x reader” blog :( so while its good thirst, I won’t be writing anything about it, sorry :( ily tho!

@michealsheep: Honestly is shiggy ended me after an intense nut like that I’d just thank him

honestly, I want shiggy just to end me??? whatta way to go. death by fucking nut.

bigdickkiri: I don’t get ship wars. Why do people wanna be so mean? It’s so easy to not be a part of any a that.if everyone appropriately tagged their posts, blacklisted rags they don’t like and didn’t act bitchy then they wouldn’t be an issue. - bigdickkiri

neither do I honestly. they’re just people looking for drama at this point, and it’s like... come on... you’re 25... stop

bigdickkiri: What a fantastic evening to tell my favourite writers that I adore them and that they're amazing! Look after yourself and have a gorgeous day! ❤️💙❤️💙 - bigdickkiri

I’m literally the worst. but um, I adore you so much, and I think you’re amazing!!!!! its 2am rn, but I can’t sleep anyways

🍒💥anon: Girl, your blog is having a glo up!!! I love it!! So pretty 👌 How are you doing today? Are you taking care of yourself? *sending good vibes and virtual hugs your way* -🍒💥

teehee, thank you for noticing!!!!!! i’m not 100% happy with it rn, but I haven’t had the time to get it perfect!!! wait a few more weeks and when I have actual down time, im fixing it >:) also, I am doing well, a lot of caretaking today! I never take care of myseld! *accepts the good vibes and virtual hugs because I am touch starved*

anon: I'm part of the protect uraraka squad!!! ♡

me too boo! you wanna fight me on my mochi loving girl meet me on the corner of my fists and in your faCE!!!!! (is this considered cyberbullying?)

anon: WTF @ THAT ANGST I M SAD NOW

this was in regard to my fic “because of you” which I posted because I was in a crying mood. HAHAHAHAHA YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FEEL SAD I WINNNNNNNN

@joyfullydawn: I just wanted to say you're heccin' amazing??? The fact you named that roommate one "And they were roommates" I just--yes. This is more than ok. This is excellent. Please keep being awesome aaaa

and they were roommates was the first series I had, and the thing I did in celebration for 100 followers.... jesus that feels so long ago and not in fact less than two months ago!!!!!!!!!!! maybe I should reblog my old works so you newer lovely followers can read them!!!!!

anon: would u ever do a part 2 to under the mistletoe with aizawa? its so sad and i just want them to be HAPPY

I am planning on doing it!!!!! it’s in my requests, so no worriesssss ;)

hermana anon: hermana that todo angst 🥺🥺you’re literally the best angst writer jdjdbd

okay but for real do I write actually good angst??? asking for a friend..... and HGAIGHJIAORGHUOG THAKN YOU FOR THAT COMPLIMENT!!!! PLEASE RECOMMEND ME ANGST FICS BECAUSE I LOVE CRYINGGGG

🍒✨ anon: this has literally nothing to do with anything that’s on your account right now but do you think that dabi sends shoto happy birthday messages? i like to think he does because even if he’s a villain, he still lowkey care about his siblings - 🍒✨

this was from a very long ass time ago, and im sorry I never responded to you sparkle cherry anon, but I definitely do believe that he sends birthday cards. with his baby bro’s increase in his fangirl club, he now is unafraid to send shouto a card. its always the only one that catches shouto’s attention when he goes through them because they’re weirdly personal. shouto, being a smart yet dense idiot, believes its someone in the class pranking him.

~ I won’t be posting these messages, but they were from awhile ago when I was hitting a rough patch with my insecurity as a writer and my ability to give my all to you. there are many of you, 19 messages in total, where you told me why you loved my writing. I never responded to them because they make me cry even now looking back at them. to each and every anon, I thank you for saying those kind words. to @saladsharkz, @thecryingsombra, @olivenight17, @shutupwylow, @expressyourstarstruckrebel, and @awkward-theaterkid thank you as well. there is another non anon, but they asked not to be revealed. thank you so sososo much.

~ I will not be posting these as well, because again, drama from awhile ago. but this was in regard to the anon who did not like the kinklist I had created for kinktober. while now I think I am doing a pretty damn good job, and no one has said otherwise, to the 2 anons, @connors-my-boy, and bigdickkiri, thank you for fighting an anon that was never your responsibility to take <3

@w0w-s0-3dgy: u make me uwu so much🥺❤️ I LOVE YOUR PAGE BABE I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL!

BBY I LOVE YOU AND I AM DOING WELL NOW!!!!! THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY PAGE LITERALLY WHERE WOULD I BE WITHOUT YOU?!?!??!!

anon: You followed me and idk if it was just to be nice or if you want to be friends or what hdhakanskenebdhsiq

im starting to follow back people that make me happy. it’s been awhile since ive been on a followspree, but I follow you back when i see kind messages from you, when I see that you’ve liked so many of my horrible posts, when you reblog my things with the most amazing tags. I follow you because I want to be your friend, you’re always welcomed to be my friend!!! hell you can literally be like “bitch listen to this” and never once having spoken to me I will respond with “give me the fucking chisme my queen”

anon: *gives u an encouraging and comforting yeehaw*

now.... now I can conquer the world, thank you

anon: Hi! I love the way you're writing things for kinktober, and I'd personally love if you could reblog what you're writing multiple times because I'm at uni most of the day so I miss out on a lot. Pd. I absolutely adore your writing! Please keep up ❤

I AM TRYING TO REBLOG MY STORIES NOW BUT OMGNGSOUHFIPA YOU LIKE HOW I WRITE?!?!?!??!?!?!

heathers anon: Its the anon who sent the Dabi heather au. I send it because i know your popular and a lot of popular blogs check your blogs. And I honestly struggle with other blogs because they ignored most of my asks.

teehee, I appreciate you thinking im a popular blog and that other popular blogs check mine, but thats not true!!! sorry for never responding back, but i’m sure they’re not meaning to ignore you on purpose. there’s just so much happening things get buried!

@sinnaminsvga : we're both alyssa so it's really interesting to see the nicknames u use bc i see you use lyssa and i got the nickname ari and i think that's pretty neat how we both have the same name but wildly different nicknames

it don’t matter, we be alyssa twinsies!!!!!!!!!!

anon: I was just going through your master list, cause I’m in a stunning mood and why not make a good mood better? and I saw bakugous “sickness and that word I can’t spell” got hella happy for a sec CAUSE YES THAT WAS SO ADORABLE AND I LOVED IT. Then I remembered the heart shattering angst that came with Todos side. So like. Ily but you a meanie.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHA WE LOVE SUFFERING!!!!!! I just... really have a thing for angst it seems... don’t tell my followers though, im in denial over it...

#ask lyssa anything #lyssa doesnt shut up #anonymous #hermana anon #big dick kiri anon #heathers anon #dabi headcanons #thank you all so much I do love and appreciate every single one of you out there :)

30 notes · View notes

creativenicocorner · 5 years ago

Note

5, 10, 19?

Aaay! Thank you so much!! @dreamcrow

5. What’s a crackship you love?

As a crack ship gfdkgsd oh man, my heart is set on Blinky/Strickler on that one ahaha. I already adore whatever dynamics they have together on screen - or even when referencing one another!! And honestly I think they’d make great friends!! Heck they could bond on Roman pennies, and mechanical engineering (seeing as Blinky helped build Jim’s Vespa, and Strickler made a super accurate replica of Merlin’s amulet) and don’e get me started on the quick witted beautiful back and forth they’d have

Once tried writing a Good Omens AU with all this in mind, but never quite had the energy to finish it. Let’s face is the two of them have great Aziraphale / Crowley energy haha

10. Mutual pining or enemies to friends to lovers?

Oh man oh man, mutual pining. It leaves so much potential open!! Heck even the enemies to friends to lovers could happen within the umbrella of mutual pining (especially if one of the two isn’t ready to admit to their pining -wink- )

That and I’m just a sucker for two people being so equally into one another but just, not quite having the confidence to learn how the other feels. It’s so juicy and can be played oh so deliciously in so many fun ways!

19. What’s your favorite character head canon?

Weeeell there’s certainly one HC I’ve been hinting at for quite some time and have been meaning to make a proper post about - but here is what I’d like to call the Meat and Potatoes (super lean edition) of the Etruscan Strickler HC ヽ(o♡o)/

(please keep in mind I’m not a qualified historian, or anthropologist, or archeologist - but an avid lover of history )

So the Etruscans and the peoples of Etruria have been around for a loooong time, in fact there are some who believe the Etruscan language is one of the building blocks of many italic languages. And for a good amount of centuries they thrived!

Then Rome happened, which was perhaps inevitable seeing as they were on the same peninsula - and because of that the size of Etruria changed depending on which century map you’re looking at. And although at some point Etruria spanned from Umbria to just grazing into the region of Lazio - its biggest consistent chunk existed in what we know today as modern Tuscany.

Because of this I should perhaps make it clear that I believe Strickler came out through the fetch after 32BCE during the already decline of the Etruscan language (in which Etruria is already absorbed and occupied by the Roman Empire). In fact by then only a select few, unless they were Etruscan, knew the language Marcus Terentius Varro for example, the Roman Emperor Claudius (though he probably learned it from his first wife, Plautia Urgulanilla who is believed to be Etruscan).

Now I hear what you’re probably thinking: But his/ his familiar’s name is Waltolomew Strickler? That’s not very Latin sounding for a name.

And you’re absolutely right!

However, Etruscans (despite occupation and absorption into the Roman Empire - and more so before) were known to be seafaring, trade was very important from Egypt to what we know today as the Greek islands and to the northern coast. Import and export was important and (as well as fighting pirates, but that’s a very fun wiki rabbit hole to fall through another time haha), and with trade comes awesome exposure to other cultures and other peoples from that culture!

Case in point the vague similarities and non similarities between certain deities between the Roman Greek and Etruscan Pantheon! Of course each pantheon has its own variants and deities that don’t exist in another pantheon, as well as different takes on certain heroes i.e the Greek Heracles, and the Etruscan Hercle -which through a lot of found art, is perceived to be a very popular hero for a number of reasons.

I could also go into the account of Etruscan soothsayers being well praised even by Cicero - but that’s another rabbit hole for another time - as well as a reason I like to indulge in the fact that Strickler can come across as rather superstitious at times!

But I’m getting off topic XP TRADE we’re talking about trade, and it was important be it Egypt to the Balkans

And with that in mind it isn’t impossible for a Northern Germanic man to fall in love with an Etruscan woman.

1) women were treated far better in Etruria, as opposed to Rome and Athens. In fact Romans thought they were more promiscuous because of how freely and equally they were treated.

2) Germanic tribes treated their woman on a similar level of equality.

3) As a culture of partnership, heck we are still discovering more and more about the Etruscans but we can make educated guesses through their sarcophagus covers (the reclining lovers and so on). This celebration of life lived even in the face of death.

Very on brand Strickler imo, and if we from history can see how they treated marriage in death we can assume how marriage was treated in life. As loving and equal as possible. In short Strickler grew up with that respecting women juice (at least compared to Roman and Athenian standards)

So name wise, Waltolomew Strickler can come from the Norther Father’s name. Vel for short, as names beginning with ‘w’ aren’t very common in Latin, Etruscan, or Italian. In fact if you go to Italy today and introduce yourself as idk, William - there’s a good chance they’ll pronounce William as [Vee-lee-am].

However in Latin the use of ‘v’ often replaces the ‘w’ and ‘u’ sounds. u = v and a double u = vv (aaay get it?) And just like that a VValtolomevv is named haha

Enter the name Vel slowly over time becoming Walt over time. I could go on for paragraphs, but I know I explained the whole congnomen thing in Terpsichore, I’d have to re-check and I fear this is already getting…ah…crazy long so I’ll try and wrap it up ^^’’

Initially the real Waltolomew was supposed to be left in the woods to die at the mercy of nature because it didn’t look like the infant wouldn’t survive anyways, but when they went back to check in the woods to find who we know as Strickler the host family Strickler saw it nothing short than an auspicious miracle of the gods, or that their child managed to strike a deal with Vanth (a death god), there’s a lot of theories between the family members to try and explain how Walter’s survival is possible - but all the same Waltolomew is raised in a rather loving family!

There’s the quiet and slightly distant Northern Father (who is occasionally homesick) and mainly tends to the olive grove. The Mother that settles the finances. The Uncle that runs shipptrades and sells the family olive oil. And, of course, The Grandmother who is very proud of living Etruria thank you very much, openly mocking romans, quick with an opinion, morally gray, with a sparkle of mischief - and someone who pretty much elbowed her way into the very serious child Waltolomew’s heart in such a way the changeling wasn’t sure if she knew his secret or even cared!

Eventually Roman payments became too steep, the Northern Father racked up a bit of debt and was sent into the army…the Northern Father never returns presumed dead in action. The resentment of Romans grows even more in the Strickler household because of this.

Which is one of the reasons why later in life Stricklander chooses to occasionally pass as ‘British’ aka one of the peoples the Romans couldn’t occupy and conquer, as opposed to siding with a people who absorbed the population of his home peninsula that would later be known as Italy.

In fact I believe after being forced to work at Hadrian’s wall (which was a laughable failure, although as a Cesare Hadrian was well praised), and returning to find his host family home repossessed by Romans Walter would flee to Gaul (another location where Romans couldn’t conquer).

It wouldn’t be long until the Romans called on a 13 ½ year old Waltolomew to enter into the military just in time for the Hadrian’s Wall debacle. Where Waltolomew grows a respect for the peoples of the British isles for being able to hold off Rome for so long and so much. Afterwards he returns to the peninsula to find his home repossessed by Romans, his grandmother having passed, and his mother and uncle closer to the port and not doing so hot. This spurns Strickler’s dislike for Romans more, an incident occurs, and Waltolomew flees to Gaul (another area famous for being able to hold off the Romans), but this time to join the Gumm-Gumms

More on that another time cause ooo boy this is a long response XP I’m sorry this got so out of hand!!

I wanted to add my thoughts as to why and how I came to the conclusion of this HC but like I said this response is crazy long already so I’ll keep it short (for now) to: That classic ‘Roman Nose profile’ of his, the pale olive skin tone, the vague roman/greek helmet he has in his office, how his Italian VA did not do an English accent in the dub, and - uh, well, I like the idea of it haha

Oh! And here’s a picture of a supermarket outside of Sarteano named ‘Etrusco’ Look at that lil face! It probably doesn’t mean much, but it does spark joy haha

Thank you so much for your questions!! I deeply appreciate it!!♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

#oooff this one got a bit long haha I hope it makes sense!!#Nico Responds #Tales of Arcadia #Walter Strickler #Stricklander #Blinky #Blinkous Galadrigal #fan fic ask

15 notes · View notes

lizzybeth1986 · 5 years ago

Text

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 1 Chapter 8

• So…umm…I LOVE this chapter! More in hindsight than when I was actually playing it because back then it just sounded like a jealous woman trying to sabotage the MC and failing. But now having played through this chapter and even written a fic about it…I have to say there’s a lot going on in this one.

• I’ve often found the 8th chapter in the series pretty interesting. This was the first chapter in the series to feature diamond scenes from all three of the original LIs in a single chapter. This would happen again in Book 2, but by Book 2 the imbalance was a lot more tangible. I will speak more about this later…but suffice to say that back when we had just two books in the series, I would call the 8th chapter The Magical Number Eight.

• A common misconception that seems to stem from this chapter (and others, often by Kiara-haters) is that Kiara “agrees to be our friend” this chapter, and then jumps ship to Madeleine in Book 2. That’s bullshit. Kiara never mentions the word friend. She says ally. And she delivers.

• THIS is also where you get the first little inkling that Maxwell could be romanced, though we would only know for sure by the middle of Book 2. This chapter is also where you also get the first of many Drake’s plot related scenes. Which meant that sometimes, even if a fan did not like him, they would end up buying his scenes anyway for some crumb of information on their LI. Drake was already getting popular, but dropping hints of plot into his scenes gave him an added edge and often encouraged fans of other LIs who didn’t like him, to buy his scenes.

• Anyway, since the buildup took an entire chapter, the book pushes us straight into the dressing room for this one!

• Title: A Waltz to Remember.

Alternative Title: Lizzy Turns This QT into a Kiara Gush-fest And Does Not Regret It (Even If It Gave Her Hand-Cramps).

I love how over the course of three books, this particular dance form of Cordonia has gained the importance it has. And it’s lovely how - even though we’re not meant to like Olivia at this point - our first glimpse of Cordonian culture through this dance, is in her estate.

• Hana’s silver dress makes its debut here! Honestly, I kinda would’ve liked this one a LOT better as a gown than as the bodycon it eventually became. That pleated bodice really needed a long, flowy skirt to work. I’m always going to be a little sore they made it a short bodycon instead 😑

• Okay I love both our options for the ball, okay. They’re both big, and glamorous, and make a real statement. Which is necessary, because the plan is to show Olivia up at her own home.

Winter Goddess is gorgeous - it has that vintage Hollywood feel to me, and the caption for it sounds pretty romantic (“will capture the winter moonlight”). Snowflake Sweetheart is very on-point for the whole snow/ice theme Lythikos itself has going on. I’m very fond of the crystals and the illusion sleeves on the second one….but I have to say that silk-satin one with the fur stole is the winner for me 😅

Me Back Then (on one of my million replays): If I really have to take a diamond option, I’m taking the second one. I’m cheap.

Me Now: Still cheap. I’m not spending 25 whole diamonds on another gown when there’s already a cute one free in my closet.

• Maxwell is trying hard to channel Bertrand 2.0, and is badgered enough by 1.0 over the phone to almost succeed.

• One of the formal phrases he uses is “a diamond of the first water”, a phrase you’d see very commonly in the Regency era…which kind of solidifies my belief that Regency England was one of their world building inspirations even back then.

• We don’t fully understand the kind of power the hostess can wield in her homeplace, until this sequence. On principle, Olivia is not exactly answerable to anyone, not even the royals visiting her in Lythikos - she can decide on seat arrangements, she can give instructions to the staff on who gets the best portions of the meals and who gets the worst, she can monopolize on the Prince’s time with her if she wants. And she takes full advantage of that.

• However, her being the hostess doesn’t always leave her completely free to do what she wants, without consequences. Lythikos is not just a turning point for us - it’s one for her as well. And not exactly in a good way.

• Here’s what Olivia does to sabotage us at the ball:

- seats us away from our sponsor, and away from the head table. In fact this is something she does to all the suitors - Maxwell tells us that not a single one has a place at the head table.

- seats us way back, next to a commoner who is also constantly given the same treatment - which Hana points out is meant to be viewed in the court as an insult. To an MC who is still learning the ways of the nobility, this move is pretty much a miss…but it does give us a very clear idea of how hypocritical the nobility and royalty can be. Hana is not immune to the prejudice either (seen as she does not censor the statement when she says it in front of Drake, a commoner), but she eventually grows to fiercely guard him and defend him from those kind of attitudes later on… and you can see a lot of that growth in TRH’s Walker Ranch chapters.

- has her servers give us ice-cold lobster bisque on purpose, thirty minutes after serving has begun. With no lobster in it. Remember, we’re in a wintry region where you require piping hot, creamy, fattening foods to stay warm. This isn’t just ruining a meal: Olivia is sending a clear message about how unwelcome they are, by giving them cold food devoid of the main protein, in the freezing cold of Lythikos.

- given the timing of her kiss on Liam during the waltz, she probably did that to send a message to us as well. It happens shortly after our dance with him, and from her reaction (angry, immediately establishing claim on him) to Liam’s dance with the MC, we can tell she’s more affected than she’d like to admit, and that’s what informs her actions during her second dance with him.

• Me Back Then: There is a nice option and a rude option. It’s Drake, but he’s Liam’s bff and I want to be nice.

(+ romance point)

Me Back Then:

Me Now: Romance points in Lythikos fall from Drake the way pee falls from someone with weak kegels. One tiny laugh and pssssshhhh.

• From the rude option you find out that Drake plays chess and often wins in his matches with Liam, so that’s a nice touch.

• The MC can acquire the fresh bisque for herself and her friends if she dramatically faints in front of a server. I quite like this (optional) moment because it shows her thinking on her feet and quickly ensuring she gets her way. The other options are pretty hilarious too, though, the obnoxious “do you know who I am” option comes with a Game of Thrones reference 😂

•

Me Back Then: …someone should leave Drake hungry at a party till the wee hours of the morning with access to only whiskey bottles. Whiskey for entrèe, whiskey for main, maybe we’ll be kind and give him brandy for dessert. Let’s see how far his love for whiskey goes then 😈

Me Now: Holy shit, Me Back Then, you just predicted the best scene in Book 3 🤣.

• One of my favourite TRR Tumblr posts ever, was the one where someone took a screenshot of Drake saying “I’m not one to complain about food” from this chapter, and placed a gif of Nicholas Fraser’s “Why You Always Lying” lyrics just beneath it 😄 If that isn’t the truth idk what is.

• Most of the chapter after this will focus on the Cordonian Waltz, Olivia’s little stunt and getting allies, so the buildup to Drake’s scene will happen now (and Hana’s just before we meet Drake). Hana will be dancing with Tariq, and then other partners in the meantime, so no opportunities to dance with her there.

I loved this dialogue option when I first saw it, but now that I know how much in love with dancing Maxwell is, this scene is ten times more fun! 😃

• On first playthrough…this didn’t seem like that big a problem. Maxwell was fun, and seemed to genuinely like us, and was berated a great deal by Bertrand - so it was easier then to perhaps forgive his gaffes and want to comfort him instead. But when you approach his character as someone who brought a complete foreigner to his country and then didn’t make much of an effort to educate her with what little time they both had…I wind up finding his character a lot less endearing. I’m honestly more irritated by his carelessness. There was a lot he could have done even if he forgot or didn’t know what to do. He could have asked around! Hana was right in front of him! He could have found out what to prepare for if he didn’t know or if Bertrand didn’t handhold him (which Bertrand himself isn’t exactly doing a good job of in the first place). The other LIs shouldn’t have to constantly step in and do his job as sponsor and guide!

• It’s only when we’re dancing that Maxwell realizes he’s not taught us the dance. Of course, if you bought Hana’s waltz scene, she whispers her advice just before you dance with him, and you give her credit for teaching you. If not, you go into it knowing very little (but because the options are easy to choose from, so you can still manage). Maxwell does explain its uniqueness in terms of the flirting potential and the fact that it’s a courtship dance…but the true beauty of that description only comes with Hana.

• Istg, if Hana weren’t around to repeatedly save our ungrateful asses…

• So THIS is the first opportunity you get to ‘romance’ Maxwell. He looks sad and tells you that you should only be here for the Prince, but it’s also that vague kind of sadness that you can interpret differently and write detailed fanfics about! I think a huge part of Maxwell’s appeal (besides the overall sparkling personality, and the fact that he was so different from both Liam and Drake) was the “will-he-won’t-he” nature of the LI question itself.

• We now move on to Liam, who is fighting a losing battle with his desire to favour the MC exclusively, but wants her to know that she is special to him. Notably he does say this in the “courtship” part of the dance.

• How do you know that the Cordonian Waltz was a strategic choice? Because Olivia chose to dance with Liam twice! And because she’s the hostess, it’s harder for Liam to refuse.

I remember being pretty uncomfortable with this scene the first time I saw it, I still am, and often I wonder if I’m the only one who feels that way. Whenever I see this scene being referenced, it’s often referenced in the most flippant ways. And it baffles me.

• Honestly, Olivia was clearly overstepping her boundaries here and didn’t even bother to ask Liam before doing it (Liam himself mentions he was “caught by surprise” and calls it an “unexpected advance”). Was Olivia doing it out of complex, understandable reasons? Like jealousy or frustration or showing the MC up? Well, sure I guess. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that her doing so was nonconsensual and downright wrong.

The funny thing is often this incident is either downplayed or erased completely, especially in contexts where people try to argue that Olivia “deserves better” than Liam, or sympathize with her for loving a man who “does not care about her”.

Does Olivia deserve to be loved back by a person she loves? Absolutely.

Is Liam a lesser person for not loving her back? No, and he shouldn’t have to be penalized or judged by a fandom for not doing so.

Is the fact that most people who uphold this “penalizing/blaming Liam for not returning Olivia’s feelings” argument, also tend to forget/downplay this particular incident…particularly disturbing? Well, yeah, definitely.

• Even the narrative fails with regard to this, actually. It is written in a comical style, with a couple of out-there dialogue options (like screaming loud enough of break poor Maxwell’s eardrums) and the MC is given a chance to lash out at Liam for not reacting fast enough or throwing Olivia off of him. And guess what his reaction is. Sad, contrite, trying to explain his position. It’s almost like it’s okay for him to feel guilty about something that was done TO him, that he was never asked permission for.

Olivia does suffer consequences, but more for her “power play” than for anything else. Her move isn’t viewed as negative for what it may do to Liam, it is negative because it is seen as a direct “fuck you” she is delivering to her competitors. The scene itself is written for laughs…which I’m surprised more people don’t find even a little uncomfortable.

• The reactions from the other suitors is pretty on point for their character types at this point. Madeleine is smug and condescending, confident that she will never be “unrefined or insecure” enough for such “ostentatious displays” (says the woman who will bully her entire court, run around Italy roaring drunk and name a drink after herself in Book 2). Penelope doesn’t exactly have a personality at this point, she merely comments that the kiss was a bold play. It is Kiara who points out the power dynamics involved and views it as the last straw in her waning support for Olivia.

Remember - the ladies of the court weren’t treated half as badly as we were, but they were probably more aware (than us) that they were being denied a seat at the head table, and had to put up with Olivia monopolizing Prince Liam’s time. While Kiara’s suspicions that Olivia is “mad with power” here probably aren’t too far off the mark (even though her feelings of jealousy and confusion may be involved, we can’t deny that there is a clear sense of “I’m the hostess here, I can do what I want”), it’s not just an assumption that simply stems out of nowhere.

• Maxwell sees and opportunity to gain allies, and encourages us to capitalize on it. The wrong options are pretty interesting: if you mention “slapping the smirk off Olivia’s face”, Maxwell tells you that the political equivalent would be to “attack her alliances”. If you suggest making out with Liam in public, Maxwell exclaims that doing so would lead to people gunning after you. Which is telling, because in Book 1 PDA is mostly shown as being frowned upon in Cordonian society in general. So Olivia’s very public kiss isn’t just brazen and bold to the courtly ladies, but also viewed as inappropriate and a jab at their own lack of power in this situation.

• I love that Maxwell gets the opportunity to encourage us to play politics. Love it. He is the first one to notice the change in Kiara’s attitude towards Olivia, and he recognizes that the time is ripe for us to captialize on it. While Bertrand, or Bertrand-and-Maxwell, are the ones who tell us the importance of gaining support from the press and the royals, getting the court to support us is wholly Maxwell’s idea. This added another layer to the way he was built in the story, and I’m not happy that we didn’t see a lot of that perceptiveness and skill around court later on. By Books 2 and 3, he was mostly relegated to the funny guy, the court jester. Book 1 Maxwell may make a lot of mistakes but you bet he’d be too smart to toss brushettas in the face of dignitaries at the UN. It was like his own writers forgot Maxwell was capable of more.

• OKAY SO THE KIARA SECTION IS A FAVOURITE OF MINE OKAY. And it only wound up being a favourite when I realized there were changes in her dialogue between my Esther playthrough and my Persephone one. I mean if I weren’t already a fan of her…this definitely would have converted me.

Before I get into the actual gushing…I’ll just summarize what the MC has to do to gain her approval:

- Language: Kiara is known for her proficiency with languages - it is the skill that defines her in court (to the point that you barely notice her other qualities). Her home language is French, and if you know how to respond to comment ça va she is cheerful and more willing to hear you out (if you choose the fromage answer she’ll a bit surprised but not too hostile, and if you say voulez-vous coucher avec moi, well…of course she’ll be pissed off because you just accidentally asked her to sleep with you). In any case, to gain her approval you need to respond in French.

In fact even Kiara’s goodbyes vary based on whether she becomes your ally or not. If she’s your ally, she says à bientôt before leaving (which is “see you soon”). If she’s not convinced by your arguments, she says adieu, which has more of a sense of finality to it and is often said when you don’t expect to meet again (in fact I’m surprised they had her say it) and is different from au revior (which means “until we see each other again”).

- Olivia’s Actions: Kiara reiterates to you what she’d just told the others - Olivia is on a power trip, and while Kiki is well aware that she’s not a top contender in this competition, she is not going to stand for being treated like she is lesser than the ones who do have power. Interestingly, in both Chapter 7 of Book 2 and this chapter, Kiara’s first visible signs of discontent/frustration come when both Olivia/Madeleine go on massive power trips (“she even named a drink after herself. Quelle narcissique”, Kiara says about Madeleine in the next book).

I feel like Kiara’s frustration may have already been there with Olivia’s treatment of the ladies of the court at the start of the Ball (but perhaps she may have been brushed it aside as a strategy you could expect from a noblewoman in her own estate) but it is Olivia kissing Liam and trying to establish a claim on him that is seen as the tipping point for her.

However, she’s also pretty pragmatic and is lowkey impressed with Olivia if you state that she went too far. She is irritated by the message Olivia is sending, but acknowledges that not many would have dared to do that in her place. A more neutral response works well with Kiara’s train of thought, because to her the important thing is seeing what works in the long run, and the MC has to convince her that she is a good alternative.

- Alliance: Kiara already anticipates this, since she is the one who straight-out asks this question. At this point Kiara is not exactly aiming to be Queen - she knows she is up against more powerful people, people who have more access to the royal family (perhaps her dad Hakim would have had a similar amount of access if Constantine wasn’t such a dick). She is not going to waste her time wishing for what she won’t get, when she can easily network instead. The answer that works best with her is the one where the MC speaks of Olivia’s friendship as being a one-way street where she always gets her way, which is ironic considering how the MC behaves in a likely worse manner towards Kiara in Book 3.

• One of my favourite Kiara lines is from the wrong option (“I’m nicer than Olivia”) for the Alliance segment: “Nice? Nothing about being here is nice. If I wanted nice I’d buy a teacup pig. 😡”

• Back in Books 6’s QT, I mentioned Queen Regina and Duke Bertrand as being the two people in the first book who watch out and keep track on our progress. Bertrand does it because he is our sponsor, Regina does it because after all we are one of the candidates for her stepson’s hand in marriage, and we’re the one he eventually shows the most interest in. But there is one other person who seems to be taking notice of our good performance as well:

On my fail run, where Persy doesn’t gain approval either from the press, or from the royals, those last two lines simply do not appear. She asks us about whether we’re looking for an alliance, and we immediately answer her. She will still join hands with you if you convince her (I did a test run where Persy said all the right things) but those words will not feature anywhere. Because the dialogue is coded such that it will only appear if you’ve done well in your previous two tasks.

That is fascinating to me, because Kiara is the only lady of the court who is written as noticing these things at such an early stage in the competition (the Lythikos Ball is only the third event in the social season, and the maximum approvals come from the Derby, which was the event just preceding it). She is the only person, besides Bertrand and Regina, who keeps track of our progress (even if that is only uptil this point, because if you win her support here, it stays that way until the Coronation). Even Madeleine, who has been part of a social season before and is viewed as having a lot of experience in the court, compared to the other ladies, spends most of her time simply underestimating the MC. It isn’t until Applewood and Ramsford that Madeleine even begins to think there might be more to this person.

Kiara, on the other hand, is observant. She is competitive but she knows when other people have the upper hand, and she will honestly acknowledge that you have an edge if you have proven yourself to the press and the Queen. For someone who would be seen as just a lady of the court….that level of foresight, observation skills and pragmatism is pretty phenomenal to me.

• I’ve said this many times and I will say it again: Kiara has always been upfront about what she’s bringing to the table in an alliance. She isn’t your friend and she won’t pretend to be your friend either. She mentions she will put in a good word and support you in becoming Queen, and she keeps her promise.

She keeps her distance from you otherwise, so you can’t dub her a ‘friend’ even then, but she will do her work as an ally. She doesn’t get involved in smearing your name while supporting you to your face. At the end of the day, she is a woman in the court trying to thrive and carve a space of her own, but she won’t dirty her hands to do that - and I don’t think she gets enough recognition for that.

• Alright I’ll stop gushing about Kiki otherwise this QT will never end 😂

• We now meet Liam, who tells us about the hot tub in his room, and invites us there. The intent is clearly romantic (the MC specifies as such, smiling, and Liam winks at you before he leaves).

• This chapter also marks the second time you see Penelope with Liam, after which you will only see her directly interact with him at his Coronation. Funny how Kiara doesn’t get even one opportunity in the narrative to talk to him.

• It’s the end of our big night in Lythikos, and we’ve got three invitations to spend time with an LI! Liam’s setting up candles near the hot tub, Hana is playing exquisite melodies on the piano, and Drake is drinking whiskey in Olivia’s wine cellar. Maxwell is…doing Maxwell things that we are not privy to yet. Or taking a nap.

• I won’t be going too much into detail esp for Liam and Hana’s scenes - because I have essays written on both! Both will be under the “Liam: Diamond Scenes” and “Hana: Diamond Scenes” sections of my essay masterlist if anyone is interested 😃 They will be titled “Hot Tub at Lythikos” and “Piano at the Parlour”, respectively. (another recommended read is “Exploring Hana in Her Context” where I talk about this scene, and her characterization. It’s a little further down on the masterlist).

•

(Screenshots for Drake from the HIMEME YouTube channel)

Liam: This is undoubtedly meant to be a romantic scene, and is hinted as much in the lead-up to it while still giving the MC the space to not go (since she says “I won’t make any promises”). He puts candles around the tub, and the tub itself is situated in an area where you can get a wonderful view of the mountains.

This scene is divided into two parts: the first where Liam gets to sincerely tell the MC he trusts her (optionally) and where they lightly flirt, and the second where he admits to feeling conflicted between giving in to his feelings and being fair to the other women. At this point he knows his feelings for the MC are stronger, implicitly trusts her (“I thoroughly believe that if you thought I was a pompous ass, you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me. I trust you, MC. Anything you say”), doesn’t want to call it love just yet but is well on his way to doing so. He tells us about his brother Leo, hinting at the events of the RoE series and explaining that seeing how love affected him made Liam think more about it. It’s not one of Liam’s absolute best scenes…but it is a sweet one where Liam tentatively explores his growing love for her - in some ways leading to his “almost-declaration” of love at the Forgotten Falls. In each scene of Liam’s, he takes a step further, and another, and another, to admitting his love for her and growing less guilty about his desire to be with her. He is still torn between his duty and his desire at this point, but you can already see him slowly inching towards the prospect of keeping what he wants first, for once.

Hana: This, in my mind, is Hana’s most powerful scene. As many adjectives as I can use to describe her in this scene would be inadequate, because it’s that good, that layered, that rich with nuance and detail. But I do think I can sum a bit of it up with a quote from a Book 3 Liam scene that instantly took me back to this one:

“Hana’s a tough one. She’s clearly had the kind of lessons I’m giving you now, and then some. Her posture is almost always polite and attentive…but when she feels strongly about something, you can sense her real feelings even before she speaks up. Her eyes grow darker and more serious.”

Compare the scenes from last chapter where she speaks about ice-skating, or even waltzing, to this one. In both those scenes, her expression is mostly neutral (or joyful when she is imparting her knowledge), speaking of it in a way that makes you understand that her heart isn’t truly in doing those things. But in this one, she is lost in her music when she plays it, she is feeling its melody in her bones, she speaks of guarding her most precious skill fiercely against her parents’ control because it’s the one thing she wants for herself. She is fierce and passionate and absolutely beautiful in the way she expresses her love for music.

In an essay I did on exploring Hana’s character in her larger context, I spoke at length about how this scene is important because it highlights that her struggle for her own autonomy began at a very young age - she recognized her art as sacred to her and had the foresight to understand that parading it around the way her parents wanted her to, would make her love it less. This scene is amazing because Young Hana is described as pushing back in the only way she knew how, so she could keep what was hers, on her terms.

The other thing this scene explores is her childhood loneliness and lack of friends, and how music helped her in those difficult times too. At this point we now know how deep that loneliness was, and how damaging to her, but back then this scene gave a wonderful insight to Childhood Hana.

So for her to trust us with her art - with the art she fought to keep her own…that’s a tremendous leap in that relationship - whether the MC is a friend or a potential lover. Romantically, she is at the point where she is slowly…slowly getting comfortable with the MC’s touch, allowing it to linger before she pulls away from her. She’s a bit like a butterfly who doesn’t know yet if she’s ready to leave her cocoon.

Drake: The picture presented to us of Drake here is the diamond-in-the-rough, the underdog, the one who views court and palace differently from everyone around him. He is there to remind us that this is not the charmed place we think it is, that even friends can stick knives in our backs. He speaks of the forced politeness of the nobility, the fact that he’s here only to protect Liam, that the MC is an innocent woman who doesn’t know what she is getting into and needs protection as well.

This scene comes with what was regarded as an important plot point at the time: who almost sold pictures of Liam’s bachelor party to the press? Drake and Bastien managed to get hold of them and prevent them from being published, knowing that having those printed before the social season would cast Liam in a more negative light, and make things harder for him. At this point, Drake is sure that someone he knows and possibly considers a friend is involved (close enough, but not quite there yet), but can’t yet figure out who (because, yknow, Olivia was the brains between the two, she cracked that mystery in under five minutes or something).

If you don’t buy this scene, you only get to know about the pictures in Book 2 Chapter 4. A lot of Drake’s scenes involve important plot points - some of which we won’t even hear the same way - or at all - if we don’t buy the scene (eg. the flashback scenes about Hana’s return and the Italian restaurant scene about Liam’s assassination). I recall buying quite a few of his scenes in the latter half of Book 1 and most of Book 2 just to find out stuff about other LIs.

The scene is pretty sweet - it highlights his now-famous whiskey obsession, has Drake openly show his protectiveness towards her minus the jaded sarcastic veneer, and has him warn her about the nature of this court. It has a line that I quite liked when I first saw the scene, but that fandom has pretty much ruined for me - “the moments in between”. Where he speaks of how the nobility are so busy schmoozing and being superficial that they miss the really important parts. It’s a beautiful thought, but the fact is I’m still paying like 17 diamonds to get it, which makes it a…pretty expensive moment.

But overall…it’s a nice scene. The look and feel of it is different from the other two, and so is the purpose.

• The focus of all these three scenes is clearly trust.

Liam completely trusts her opinion of him and confesses openly his desire to let go of all that is holding him back, even though he is still confused and conflicted about his own feelings.

Hana trusts her so much, that she will share piano pieces that she lovingly composed to the MC, even though she never performs for people. It is a measure of how much Hana values the MC that she will share such a secret part of herself with her.

Drake, who once came this close to calling the MC a crown chaser, now views the same woman as an innocent who doesn’t know what she is getting into. He will later tell her that that aspect of her journey reminds him of Savannah. He trusts the MC enough to give her important information about something he still views as a possible plot targeted at Liam, and tells her their moments mean something to him.

Chapter 8 of the second book took this theme forward for the initial three LIs, by showing us trust in other forms. Liam’s firm belief in his father’s dedication to his nation (which will crumble soon). Drake’s being convinced by the MC to stay on and hear out his sister, to give her a chance to explain what really happened to her, and his emotional reunion with her. Hana’s scene…was more about gaining someone’s trust - particularly Penelope’s. (it is also one of the worst scenes the series has ever given an LI, whoever wrote that one can fall on a cactus).

We are approaching a midpoint in the story, so at this point the narrative is progressing each of these relationships towards the point where they trust this woman, view her as a valuable person in their lives, and inch ever-so-slightly towards that eventual realization that they are in love with her.

•

Another point in the Tariq shoe tally!! I wonder if this ‘ghost’ deals with 'future misdeeds’ as well…

• We spend a few more days in Lythikos before we move back to the Capitol for the Royal Regatta, and both Esther and Persy are like “YOU HAD A FEW DAYS TO ASK IF I KNEW WHAT A FUCKING REGATTA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MAXWELL”.

• So…a lot happens this chapter. The MC begins to rope in (or not) her first allies in the court, she has a strong foothold by now and is beginning to get noticed as more than just a random contender who wouldn’t last, she gains the trust of the people she is growing close to.

But most of all…Lythikos is where Olivia begins to lose the hold she once had on the court, and this is never more apparent than if you are losing supporters rather than gaining them (if you are more popular, it won’t be that apparent, since you will move far ahead of the competition). There will be times when the press may not pay attention to her, there will be ladies who club the MC and Olivia both together as “not a proper fit for becoming a queen”. She is still very much a frontrunner, she may win the Regatta if you fail all the steps to the boat race, but after this it will be harder for her to gain support whether or not the MC succeeds.

Shortly after this point, Olivia also doesn’t antagonize the MC as blatantly as she did in Lythikos, save for a snide remark to the MC (with a life jacket of all things) if you choose to go to her yacht in the next chapter. She will eventually begin to thaw towards you in Applewood.

• Constantine and Regina are conspicuous by their absence this chapter, and Constantine announces that he is stepping down the next. Which probably means he found out sometime between the Masque and this event that he was ill (since we don’t see him at the Derby). I’m headcanoning that they visited Leo around this time (optionally with the RoE MC, since the housewarming party in Newlyweds seems to happen sometime around the social season (it could be earlier or later too…but humour me 😂)

• So…Regatta in Chapter 9! Lots of sun, fun and (Persephone-willing) PLENTY of mess.

• Before I sign of, here is Persy’s Share of Mess this chapter (except for the bloodcurdling scream she gives when Olivia kisses Liam, I forgot to screenshot that 🙈 How on earth did Maxwell’s poor ears survive??):

• Until next week, folks!

–

• Tally Counts:

Number of Times Drake has Called Esther/Persy by Their First Names: 5

Number of Times Tariq Has Mentioned His Shoes: 3

Number of Times Drake Has Taken An Alcoholic Drink that’s Not Whiskey: 1

Number of Times Someone Has Called A Reigning Monarch 'Your Highness’: 2

Number of Times You Can Leave Hana Shook. SHOOK I TELLS YA: 4

Number of Times We See Penelope’s Angryface: 2

–

#long post #the royal romance #trr quick thoughts #trr qts #hana lee #trr kiara #king liam #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #i stan for kiki #this was honestly one of my fave chapters to write for

37 notes · View notes

i-see-you-now-you-see-me · 6 years ago

Photo

A/N: I am on my holiday guys, but here is another part, so hopefully I will manage to give you another part in the upcoming week

Pairing: BTS Park Jimin x Reader

Description: Fortunes of a girl in the Fae land, the saga continues, the beginning is the sneak peak I posted last time, Jimin is not our mochi in here, so beware

Warnings: “Spiked” drinks and food, so let’s call it drug usage :D, yandere themes/ tendencies, smutty bit in this chapter (Jimin is thinking dirty thoughts), nothing too descriptive (includes a bit of oral, impregnation kink (is that a thing??), but 16+ would be advised

Word count: 1344 (idk but every chapter is nearly the same, but it’s enough, I don’t want to make them too long in case it gets boring)

***

PART 10

You stood up on your, now wobbly legs, walked towards him and sat on his lap, his hands connecting to your waist straight away. You leaned in, your hand caressing his face. A finger traced his plump lips, and you let it pass his lips, till his tongue was lapping on it.

You licked your lips in anticipation.

-Kiss me, - he said one more time.

Your mind was being clouded, but a small part of you didn’t want this. The feeling was making you sick.

-What are you doing to me, - you whispered, a tear forming in the corner of your eyes.

-Shh, - his finger shushed your lips, - give into it, don’t be shy, kiss me, it’s ok…

Jimin was surprised that you still had some control left in your body, so it meant, all the spells don’t work on humans a hundred percent, but maybe ninety.

-I don’t want to, - the tear slipped past your eyes down your cheek. Jimin was pulling you closer, but you were struggling to get away, the last bit of your sanity helping you on the way. – STOP!!!

You shouted and got up straight away. Jimin was up within seconds.

-I think I should go, - you whispered and walked away.

-Don’t defy me, - Jimin said before you walked off, - I will be back to collect my goodnight kiss.

You felt like you’ve never been so fast in your entire life. The run towards your room felt like a run after a million, and you were out of breath when you got there.

Breathing in slowly, in and out, tears streaming down your face, nearly on your knees again. This time, your back against the doors, your body sliding down, till you sat down. You felt the power.

His power.

He used magic to spike your food. He wanted you to give in. Give in to what exactly? He wanted you to kiss him against your will.

What is the point to this?

Jimin smirked.

He was satisfied- ish.

There was still a mile to walk, but the magic did its deed. It might not work completely as planned, but it did what it was designed for. He took the spell book again. He was sure, he won’t be needing it soon, since there are only two more gifts of his to give you, and you will eat Fae land food anyway, you will stay here.

-How to make someone fall in love with you, - Jimin chuckled. He closed his eyes and pictured you half naked, your eyes looking up at him.

His kiss so passionate, leaving you breathless, his body between your legs. His hands touching the soft skin of your thighs. Higher and higher, till a finger slipped past your underwear. He knows how your wet folds feels on his fingertips, he knows how you smell. Your arousal inviting. He would tease you with his fingers. Up and down your pussy lips, making you shy away and blush.

He would then go down, kissing your body all the way, the tops of your breasts, sink his tongue in your navel, go slower and lower, till he reached the softest skin on your body.

The way you would taste. He got a glimpse of that already, and he couldn’t wait till he would feel that taste on his tongue again. Mhm. The way you would squirm away from him. What a sight.

A knock interrupted his dirty thoughts.

-Come in, - Jimin said and the doors opened, revealing smiling Dacia. – What is it?

-Sir, I would like to help you, - Dacia said.

-In what way, may I ask?

-Any, sir, I know you wish to trap poor Y/N in this kingdom, - she smiled even more, seeing that her Master enjoys what she is talking about. – Anything you want I will do.

-Excellent.

Dacia sat down by his feet as they talked.

-I want you to get Y/N in trouble.

Dacia looked at Jimin.

-Let’s say, if I want her for breakfast at 9 in the morning, you make sure she is late, - Jimin leaned closer to whisper in her ear, - so I can punish her.

Dacia wanted you to suffer. If she would have seen what was going to happen to her and her sisters, they would never have tampered with the magical forces and Park Jimin, they should’ve left it all as it was. Park Jimin was now the most powerful creature of all Fae lands, all their magic belonging to him.

-I will do that, Master, - Dacia bowed, - what else would you like?

-Tell me, what do you know about pregnancy with humans? Is there anything particular, that I need to know before I breed her?

-Human woman seem to have less issues with growing babies in their bodies, especially if the baby is Fae. Fae man seed fertilize faster in their wombs then our own. I think Y/N looks healthy to have children, and I would assume she would be pleased to have you breed her.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled. He could even imagine releasing himself inside of your body, for the first time on your wedding night, filling you up to the brim, the way his thickness would leak down your thighs, mixed with your juices, made his mouth water. He was old-school that was for sure, and as tempting it was for him to have you, he swore that he would do everything like it is supposed to be in the name of Fae’s.

You washed your face and looked in the mirror. You looked tired and scared. He had broken you already, but you didn’t want to admit it yet. The idea of getting home was simply ripped from your mind, and you thought there was no hope left.

Jimin had trapped everyone that could help you.

Yet he said he would answer your questions, but at the same time he wanted to trick you… the doors of the room opened and Prince Jimin walked in.

-I am here for my kiss, - he walked closer. You turned around only to be greeted by his smile, and to see how his fingers pointed to his lips. – right here.

You took the last bit of your courage and went for it. Your lips touched his in a simple method of a peck, and then you walked to the door, holding one side with your hands, mentioning to the hall.

-Good night, you have your kiss, now you can leave, - you stated, not even looking at him. Jimin bowed to you and walked out.

-I will see you for breakfast tomorrow, if you don’t show up, I will have you beaten, and we don’t want that, do we?

With that he was gone.

What a lovely way to say good night, you thought to yourself, asshat.

You got yourself comfy in the bed and closed your eyes. You saw yourself sitting on his lap, that seductive feeling in your system, the way he said to give in. You opened your eyes and sat up.

-Argghrhhrhr!!! – you shouted, - just leave me alone, dude!

You tried again, again the first thing to show up in front of you was Jimin’s face, and then you thought back of “your” Park Jimin from BTS, the sweet guy, that you last saw with tears in his eyes, being as surprised to witness another “him” in front of everyone, being so not like him. What would he be doing now?

What would all of them do now? Even the people that saw what happened?

There was no going back for everyone who saw what was going on…

What would your best friend would be doing now? Did she tell your mon/dad what had happened? Why are you the one here? What exactly happened all those years ago that made Park Jimin hate you so?

And if there is no hope left, what if you end up loving the dark Fae prince, what would it take for him to love you back, and how much time would it take for you to soften his heart for you?

Another chapter is over, how do you like it so far? I love when you reblog and/ or write me messages, thank you for reading!

122 notes · View notes

unordinary-analysis · 6 years ago

Text

Episode 134

This is late but tbh im always late so i mean aren’t i on time? (afternote: nevermind im posting this days after I finished writing lol)

Honorable mentions:

This was a filler episode but i loved it all the same ;)

I feel like there are 3 different panels of Sera’s face and they all are in a different(ish) art style idk

John acting indifferent after he knows cecile has him figured out is legend behavior

Just wait till the end of the year, @ john and cecile and everyone else. This is Arlo’s last year then he graduates and Blyke is new king or something. Like… just wait a bit…?

Didnt have anything to say about that last scene but i am SOOO EXCITED FOR WHATS ABOUT TO HAPPEN JOHN HAS BEEN SUMMONED ITS GO TIME

Evie and Seraphina

I like this friendship a lot because of their dynamic (with character relationships, dynamic is everything. I say I love friendship's dynamics a lot and that’s why lol). Seraphina is casual and chill and Evie is awestruck and timid. Love. It. Their interactions are beautiful too. Sera: “it was an easy fight.” *shrugs*. Evie: “soO cooOOOOOL (+25 sparkle)”. Golden. But I don’t know where this friendship could go or what it might mean for Sera’s friendship with John. Will Sera and Evie’s friendship be separate from Sera’s friendship with John? Will John be mad that she was Arlo’s informant? Maybe they will all be best buds (:D). Or maybe John and Seraphina’s friendship has peaked and they’re gonna drift apart? Thats a lotta questions (and I can answer any of them lol). But I got ideas guys so be prepared for this structured essay (kinda[not really{not at all I gave up}]).

I feel like Evie and Seraphina get along together well because of how their personalities compliment the other’s. Seraphina is just straight up impressing Evie and Evie is kind of like helping Sera cope with being a cripple??? I feel that her upbeat and adoring personality is giving Seraphina hope like yeah she’s not the ace anymore and she’s a cripple, but this adorable low-tier girl is just as adoring of her as low-tiers used to be and saying she’s so powerful and stuff. Like she was excited about how Sera beat up Hower without an ability. I like how that is easing Seraphina into the cripple life (well not easing because well the whole kidnapping thing happened kjhgnksjh). I hope you all understand. And Evie is really getting hope from Seraphina as well. Sera said, “This far down the ladder, abilities become irrelevant. Hower’s only weapon are his hands. Just avoid them and he’s a powerless as a cripple.” I don’t know, hope for everyone.

As for the friendship’s impact on John and Sera’s, who knows, i mean anything is fair game. Honestly, it is most likely that Sera will keep both friendships, and keep them separate, but thats no fun so im going to talk about what I wanna. The thing is, right now, Sera and Evie’s relationship is kind of reminding me of Sera and John’s (at this moment), but roles reversed. Sera is the badass cripple and Evie is the one who is getting tips and encouragement. I don’t know, I feel like this could lead to a distance or drifting apart for John/Sera. Seraphina really only had one true friend before this, who liked her for who she was and not only because of what she was (a god-tier). That person was John. Arlo, Elaine, Blyke, Remi; they were only involved in her life because of her high status. If that was not the case, I doubt these people would ever hang out together. Like Elaine and Sera just chilling out one day? Yea doesn’t fit. But John, the cripple, just trying to do his best at his project and wanting to celebrate with her. Had nothing to do with her ability (okay maybe it was about her smarts but still). Now that Sera has Evie (someone who, like i said, has a great dynamic with her [yeah they only met because Sera’s a cripple now, but they just fit in a way none of the high-tiers ever did]), there’s a chance she will be hanging out with John less and less. John is always busy with being Tuesday, ordering Arlo around, and chatting with Cecile. They gonna drift apart maybe. Then John will finally snap because Seraphina was the only thing stopping him from going full-on New Bostin. Or you can just regard all of this because Sera and John’s relationship is probably stronger than ever and that hug scene guys… perfect.

Yeah not the structured thing i wanted to make, but i’m to distracted to go back and redo it or fix the beginning. Also, that’s a lot of effort for a friendship that probably is irrelevant and won’t last lwkhsdksfjs.

Moving on

Cecile and John

Still excited about this even though it’s been weeeeeks. John. and. Cecile. Loving the pair up uru-chan. Loving it. The dynamic. The reluctant alliance. The ambition. Its beautiful.

But yeah, this episode, Cecile speaks (a bit) of her mind and John argues back. Fantastic. Mostly details and stuff we already knew but like wow i love this. I was gonna rant, but I don’t know how to say anything other than that it is perfect oilkshkvjhsjdgh

What can i say

Except he kinda threatened Cecile and like pls John I would die for a genuine pair-up with you two, please be compliant, thanks.

I’m not posting this on my Unordinary Amino account because of how short and late it is (go join the Unordinary amino its pretty good if you haven't heard of it)

#episode 134 #UnOrdinary #webtoon #unordinary webtoon #official

40 notes · View notes

maewritesstuff-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Oh, My, My, My!

AN: okay shits, this is based off a prompt I had thought of and I requested it before but said fuck it and decided to do it myself. Here’s the playlist for this. Petey is 20 in this as well as the reader, both are in the Avengers bc yolo why not. also, the reader is a mutant idk what kind so well find out when I post it lmao.

Requested: no lmao. it’s basically Y/N giving Peter a bday gift and some bff!thor ( I love my mans, okay and platonic thor is needed)

warning: my shitty writing and bad playlist.

word count: 2,574

Getting a birthday present for your best friend is supposed to be easy right? Especially if you are in love with them, wrong. It makes it about 10 times harder. You get an idea and you think ‘oh! this is perfect! great!’ but then you realize, a normal best friend wouldn’t get them this, this is too much, too personal. That’s where I'm stuck at right now.

Buying my best friend his 21st birthday gift shouldn’t be this hard! I'm great at gifts! Hell, I got the team the BEST gifts for Christmas, I made Steve tear up. So why can’t I think of something for Pete?

Groaning and running my hands over my face, I roll over and look at the picture of us from graduation. I know Pete like the back of my hand, I know his sandwich orders from every shop in Queens and upstate. I know he likes the Trilogy better than the Prequels of Star Wars, even if that's wrong. I know that even at 20 and one of the strongest and powerful heroes, he sleeps with the curtain closed because he’s scared someone is going to be looking in if he looks over at night. I know this kid better than I know myself, so why am I stuck?

“Y/L/N, are you still coming into town with me?” ‘‘Yeah! I’m coming, give me a second Sparkles!’‘ huffing and attempting to get off my bed as fast I can, I hear Thor’s loud footsteps reaching my room. “Y/N, how many times am I to explain that I do not sparkle?’‘

Thor enters with a deep-set frown, leaning against my door frame watching me lace my boots up. “Sparkles, bub, listen.. I know you produce lighting, not sparkles; BUT you can make sparkles and it’s fun.’‘ I get up and walk over to him and step on my tippy toes to pat his cheek “Plus, you know you are my favorite founding Avenger.’‘ Laughing and putting his hand over mine before moving Thor replies “Oh you are full of it, I made sparkles once when you were sad and now you taunt me with it ever since.’‘ Grinning, I nod and pull him out with me and make our way down to the elevators.

“You are staying for Petey’s party tonight, right?’‘ Glancing over at Thor while he hums softly waiting for the doors to open before stepping in. “I am, the others say this age marking is a big one for you mortals and I enjoy watching your kind celebrate things, very different than how we do it. Plus I want to see if you finally confess to young Peter your feelings.’‘

“THOR!’‘ He laughs when I push his shoulder, him barely moving. You see, I told Thor about my crush on Peter last Halloween.

Everyone was at the tower for a big party that Tony threw. I was sitting next to Peter while Natasha was telling a story about one of her missions. “You okay, honey?’‘ Peter asked, a concerned look set on his face and his hand on my knee. We had this thing where we called each other Honey. He says he calls me it because of my eyes, a side effect of my mutation that leaves them a soft yellow color. I call him it because he’s sticky. “Yeah, I’m fine Petey“ I smile and reply, “Just a little tired is all.’’ Peter nods, a soft smile forming on his lips and removes the hand on my knee and brings it on the couch, behind me and goes back to listening to Natasha.

I stare at him briefly before shifting a bit myself, letting our knees knock together softly and stay close to him. Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I look over and see Thor starring at us with the look he gets when he’s thinking hard about something.

I furrow my eyebrows at him and mouth ‘What?’ to him, wondering what he’s looking at. He gets up and motions for me to follow him to the next room. “I’ll be back..’’ I whisper to Peter and get up, following the God.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it another moment? Do you want me -’‘ “Are you and young Peter together and not telling me?” Thor interrupts me and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “What? No!’‘ Shaking my head quickly and feeling my face get hot “W-what makes you think that? We are just friends, bub.“ “You and him are sitting close and you two have been very fond of each other the whole evening.. did something happen when I was gone? Did you two engage?’‘ He asks, looking at me and squints his eyes watching me. I feel my face turn red and blink a few times, laughing nervously. “Thor, I-I don't know what you are talking about.. Peter and I haven't done anything, he’s just my best friend..’‘ I reply, unable to look up at him.

Thor is like my big brother, ever since I joined at fifteen Thor has been there to help. When he found out about another member joining the team with similar powers to his, he was excited. “Y/N.. you like young Peter, don't you?” God, I could practically hear the smile in his voice, I could already tell this was never going to be dropped. Whining, I put my hands on top of my head and looked up at him. "If you tell anyone or ever mention this when it's not just us, I will burn all of your capes.'' Thor lets out a small noise of agreement and pulls me into his chest, hugging me tightly. "I won't speak a word of, Honey.'' "I hope you drop your ax on your foot," I reply with a small smile while he laughs.

Rolling my eyes and thinking back at the memory, I can't help but smile to myself. It was a good night. "I have been thinking of telling him.. I'm just not entirely sure how to yet. I need to get him a gift first.'' I say as we walk out of the building and down the sidewalk. "Maybe a shirt? Peter seems to enjoy those, perhaps one with those sayings? He has a few, I don't understand them though..'' Laughing, I pat his shoulder "That's actually a good idea, he does wear an awful lot of those bad pun shirts." Thor just nods and looks in front of us as we make our way down the street.

Maybe getting Peter a shirt was a good idea? Thor does have a point with that option, he probably owns more bad science pun shirts than he does anything else. Glancing at the few little shops we pass, I notice a small music store and smile brightly. "Thor, I know what I'm going to do.'' "What is it?'' He asks me slightly confused. "You wouldn't get it, don't worry. You can get him the shirts, he'll love those.'' Nodding along to what I say, Thor just glances around the store smiling a bit to himself while I grab what I need and pay.

After spending about three hours making Peter's gift, you sat up and smiled. A personalized playlist was a great gift, right? Even if it's a playlist of songs you'd love to make out with him too? Peter loved playlist and loved music. It was a perfect gift for him, you were just nervous about the title you had written on it. 'Songs To Make Out With You'. Chewing on your bottom lip you grabbed the CD out of your laptop and put it in its case and wrapped it up before putting it in the bag with the other small gifts you got him. Pushing back the slight nervousness you had in your gut, you got ready and grabbed the bag heading down to the common room. Saying Tony took birthday's special was an understatement.I should of know this when I mentioned the idea of a surprise party for Peter.

The entire room was fully decorated. Balloons were everywhere, a huge banner was hanging in the middle of the room along with the numbers '21' on either side. Placing your bag on the table with the rest of the gifts, you walked over to where everyone was huddled up.

''Remeber, Pete has no idea this is happening, okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y. is going to tell us when he's coming, no one spilled, right?'' Tony looked around the room, squinting his eyes at everyone.

"Tony, relax. No one said a thing to the kid, he thinks it's just a regular movie night.'' Natasha replied, glancing down at her nails. Everyone in the room did a collective nod and reasurred Tony. He may not seem like it, but Tony Stark is the biggest softy in the world, especially for his teammates. "Mr. Stark, Peter is now entering the building and making his way to the elevator.'' "Okay, get into place guys!" Quickly ducking down by the couch as all the lights flick off while everyone finds a hiding spot, the room falls silent; an incredibly rare thing in this tower.

After a few moments of silence, you are able to hear the soft footsteps in the hall and the sound of a keypad followed by the door opening. "Whoa, why is it so dark in here? F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn lights on pl-" Peter is cut off by everyone screaming surprise and jumping up from their spots. Grinning brightly, Peter claps his hands together and laughs a bit "Guys.. You all didn't have to do this! This is so nice!''

Giggling at his reaction, you walk up to him and pull him in for a hug. "Happy Birthday, Honey'' you whisper in his ear and give his cheek a soft kiss. You feel him pull you closer to him and nuzzle his head into your neck, his smile obvious against your skin. You two kept the embrace for a small moment before pulling away. Peter grabbed your hand and kept you beside him as he greeted everyone and gave his thank yous.

"Mr. Stark, you didn't have to do any of this! It's so much!'' Shaking his head and patted Peter's shoulder. "It's nothing. 21 is a big age kid, celebrate it. Plus, it was Y/N that came up with the idea, I just took over a bit.'' Tony replied, sending a small wink in your direction. "You've got a good one there, kid.'' Instantly feeling your cheeks heat up slightly, you laughed it off. Peter smiled brightly at his mentor and turned to you. "You came up with this?" He asked. "It was just an idea, Petey, I wanted you to have a good time,'' you replied shrugging a bit. "Besides, Tony completely took control over most things and decorating. The man loves a good party.'' Peter just stared at you with a smile on his face and pulled you in for another hug, kissing the top of your head.

''I don't deserve you, Y/N, I really don't.'' biting your lip and wrapping your arms around his waist you just replied "Let's go and be apart of the party.'' Peter laughs and nods, pulling away and leading you two into the party. About an hour into the party, everyone is sitting on the couches by the window. Peter next to you, one arm behind your head and the other holding his cup while you softly lean against him with your own cup in your hand. "Alright, it's time for presents. I can't wait any longer.'' Tony announced to the room while getting up and clapping his hands together.

He walked over to the table and had DUM-E help him bring the gifts from the team onto the coffee table. Shifting and moving away from Peter a bit you started to feel anxiety build up in your stomach. No one told you they were gonna have them open the presents in front of everyone. You thought they were gonna let him take them back to his room and open them there. How the hell were you gonna get the cd and not have everyone on your team know you want to stick your tongue down Peter's throat?

Panicking a bit you sit up straight and watch as Peter is handed a gift by Clint. He grins like a small kid on Christmas when he opens the box and sees the small construction paper drawings from his kids and the gift card to the local bookstore. He receives a braided bracelet from Wanda that is a traditional gift from her home.

A new blue and red dagger from Natasha with his initials engraved on it and his logo, a child's wallet with spider-man on it with $100 cash in it from Tony, a stack of new books from Steve, a star wars poster from Bruce to replace the one the Hulk ripped in a fast accident a while ago. A winter soldier #1 fan mug from bucky that was accompanied from a matchy Falcon one from Sam. The science pun shirts from Thor, who doesn't truly know why you can't trust atoms. A Battle Star Galactica complete series from Rhodey.

Watching him thank Rhodey and start to reach for your bag, you feel your stomach start to fall. Chewing on your bottom lip, mumbling "Maybe you should open the bottom item later..'' Peter glanced over to his side at you and furrowed his eyebrows "Why? If you're worried I won't like it, that's a lie.'' He replied and started pulling out the items. One by one he opened the small gifts, his smile never leaving his face, constantly looking at you and beaming. You moved around in your seat starting to feel really nervous

"Don't read that out loud!" you blurted out, causing everyone to look over at you with a weird confused look, you put out a fake laugh and shrugged "Has an inside joke on it.. don't want you guys to be confused." Peter nodded, laughing along with you as he grabbed the case.

Swallowing you watched as he carefully took the wrapping paper off of it and smiled to himself at the picture on the case you put. It's the picture you got of him when he was sleeping on the couch with his mouth wide open. Peter opened the case and you felt as if your stomach was going to completely drop out of your ass. What if this was the end of your friendship? What if he started laughing and everyone joined in? Could you find a way to quickly snatch it out of his hands and just say 'Issa prank!'?

You looked at his hands holding the gift, scared of seeing his reaction when he was finished reading it Peter's eyes widened a bit as he read the title, biting his lip he scanned over the tracklist reading each song you put on there, feeling a smile creep on his face he looked back you.

"Honey, we are so going to listen to this later tonight..''

14 notes · View notes

neoyeppuda · 7 years ago

Text

Here - Mingyu scenario

Word Count: 3,382

Genre: Light angst and comfort plus a lil fluff

Clar’s A/N: This one’s for Feesha (@kingyu97)!! she didn’t tell me what she wanted to do on Christmas with her bias and she told me to surpise her so here it is!!! I haven’t posted in a long time and I’m really scaaaared. I tried to make it as personal as possible (?) so the likes and possibly personality (plus events that happened irl) of Y/n will resemble the mutual I’m writing for!! (hOPEFULLY) I’m working on Denise’s (@/theliqht) and Lani’s next :D

I hope you guys enjoy this!! (Writers could probs relate but idk what am i talking about) (okay im really nervous about this it’s been so long btw the gif is beautiful)

The sound of laughter and Christmas carols brightened the ruthless winter breeze, loud enough to penetrate the white eggshell walls of your room which was in the inner area of your house. People welcomed guests at their front doors and everyone had someone to spend Christmas Eve with while you were cooped up inside the cozy home that felt a little too empty.

It was another night alone. And once everyone retired to their own homes, only the sound of the keyboard tapping disrupted the almost perfect silence that you’d rather not have as you briefly paused to wrap numb fingers around the curve of your mug. The hot chocolate radiated its warmth through the ceramic, which usually melted the numbness in your hands. But tonight, the bitter cold’s bite never left your fingertips, so you decided to ignore the minor hindrance and continued writing.

You went over your work for the millionth time, thoroughly reading every word you’ve written with dissatisfaction all over your face. Everything about it simply paled in comparison to everything else you’ve written in the past, and it frustrated you to no end.

A child could write better.

A sigh of dissatisfaction left your lips and you forced yourself to write anything that would come to mind. It made your head spin like a top, but you paid no attention to it. Progress was more important to you.

You redid a specific section, riding along the sudden yet transient rush of inspiration that eventually slipped away from your grasp, sending you back into this spiral of frustration. Fingers repeatedly tapped the backspace, removing the disappointing words from your sight. As you scoured every nook and every cranny of your brain for words to describe the character’s beautiful almond eyes, the typing came to a screeching halt.

A writer without inspiration was like a bird without wings. No matter how hard both tried, nothing could help them.

“I can’t do this,” you mutter under your breath, lifting your hands off the laptop’s black keys to run fingers through hair that framed your face. Your head throbbed with every word you forced out, desperately struggling to make progress even if you would end up revising it over and over again later on because it was never good enough. It was like there were chains around your lithe wrists, holding you back whenever you tried taking a step forward.

Your writing was stagnant, if not regressing.

Helplessness overwhelmed you, as you sat there with legs pulled close to your chest and a blanket covering your form. Mingyu wasn’t there to wrap his hands and arms around your small frame to pull you against his broad chest, comforting you with sweet words of encouragement and support as he rolls his thumb over your tear-stained cheeks. It was only you, alone with demons that gnawed at your sanity as you continued to subject yourself to torturous thoughts.

You didn’t know what time or even day your boyfriend was coming back but you certainly wished that he was at least present for Christmas Eve. Every call and every text was left unanswered, you didn’t dare call any of the members knowing they were probably either sleeping or busy to respond so you waited by yourself.

Despite how desperately you wanted to write, nothing was going to happen. You yearned for his presence, to the point that you couldn’t think of anything else, and you used that as another excuse. “I miss him. That’s why words aren’t coming out,” a soft and weak whisper to yourself comforted you with the lies that wrapped around it. Denying the actual reason seemed easier than facing it and accepting it.

It was one reason after another.

“I can’t write because of this,” whatever unreasonable excuse you found was more than enough to justify why you weren’t able to write. You refused to accept the fact that you lacked inspiration, not even knowing why you did. Heartbreak usually inspired you, but the only thing you wanted to do right now was cry and wallow in the self-pity that was pent up inside. You couldn’t write regardless of whether he was there or not, but you needed him to ease the pain his absence kissed you with.

“Why aren’t you here?”

The weak, suppressed sobs that barely made a squeak was all you would permit to escape your pale lips. With arms crossed, you squeezed your sides sharply. Everything just felt numb.

“What? No, Mingyu’s not at the dorm. He left earlier than all of us,” Wonwoo told you over text. Your fingers curled around the shape of the phone in your hand.

That was hours ago.

“Wouldn’t he be there by now?” you didn’t have the strength to respond, leaving his messages unread. The clock on your desk ticked and tocked, telling you it was already midnight; but it didn’t matter. You already had a sour feeling that he wasn’t going to show, draining you of any motivation to lift a finger. The bed might have tempted you to remove your ass from the office chair but you didn’t give a damn about where you’d sleep tonight.

A long and tired yawn pulled a layer of tears over your eyes. You took another glance at the incomplete work in front of you, pulling on the white blanket that hung around your shoulders to cover exposed skin. Every minute that passed made your eyelids grow heavier, like a construction worker that piled bricks atop one another.

A blurry image of the clock’s arms pointing at the bold number one was the last thing you could recall seeing before succumbing to the sandman’s sweet lullaby.

Dark circles were forming around the boy’s tired eyes as the sun started to peek its bright head into the obsidian sky. It was terribly late, he was too preoccupied to spare his watch a glance but he assumed the time was past midnight. His long arms cradled the brown paper bag that was spilling with ingredients and various bottles while a thick rope hung around his wrist, occasionally tugging at his arm as he fished his pocket for a key.

A small yip and the continual disturbance he was dealing with made him hush the source of the commotion. “You’ll wake her,” he says in a loud whisper, slowly twisting the brass knob before closing the door that was now behind him.

With another yip upon hearing the door shut rather too loudly for its ears, your heavy eyelids flutter open halfway, immediately shutting close before they part again like two magnets repelling each other. You sat up straight with wide eyes and a hanging jaw. Fingers dug into your palm, balling your hand into a fist to ease the shaky heart that threatened to jump out of your chest with every hasty thump.

His name left your cold lips, eyes taking in his tall form that froze at the sight of you, “Mingyu.” Fingertips created creases at the bottom of the paper bag when you pushed the chair back, letting it rub against the wool carpet, to make your way towards the tense man. You called out his name in a much softer tone that perfectly accompanied the loneliness brimming over your tired eyes as you took slow steps towards him.

He watched you move closer, letting the rope slide down from his wrist and into his bent fingers. You caught something that barely hid behind Mingyu’s legs. Its white curly hair obvious from the small gap in between the black fabric of his slacks as it jumps forward, tickling your feet with the animal’s padded paws and long fur.

“(Y/n), I can explain,” he tells you with a degree of alarm in his tone. You removed your eyes from the small puppy below you, turning to him. Before he could even finish a sentence, the words that left his mouth came to an abrupt stop the moment he felt your warmth wrap around his torso. He paused for a brief second before placing a hand on your back, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your shoulder.

He says your name again, with a tinge of confusion underlying the gentle manner he uttered it in. “I’ve missed you,” the shakiness of your voice was difficult to repress, making it clear as day that you were close to tears. “I’ve missed you too,” Mingyu replies warmly. The husky yet bright voice he spoke in and the toothy grin he gave you as his sparkling eyes looked into yours replaced the numbness with elation that you didn’t think you’d ever feel again. Hot tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and soft sobs left you. Fingers clawed onto his goofy Christmas sweater, grabbing fists full of the knitted wool as the emotions you couldn’t tell anyone about piled up and began bursting out like a dam flooding uncontrollably.

Mingyu’s name slipped through your quivering lips so many times that you had lost count. “I thought you weren’t coming home,” you choked out. His callous hands thread through hair that clung to the tears on your skin, brushing them back to expose creased brows and crinkled chin previously hidden. His large hands slid down to cup your face, lightly squeezing your cheeks together with his wrists as he pressed his forehead onto yours, “hey.” You gave no reply, still shaking in his arms. “Hey,” in a hushed whisper, he tells you to look at him, “I’m here.” Mingyu repeated the words that slightly eased the storm inside of you, “(y/n) I’m here.” A thumb brushed against the arc of your cheekbones, sweeping the salty tears away as they rolled down.

“I’m tired but I don’t want to be tired,” you bawl, whimpering as a result of futile attempts at suppressing sobs.

“Hey,” Mingyu murmurs in a terribly gentle tone, as if anything more than that was enough to shatter you into pieces. Soft shades of passion fruit surfaced when his warm fingers traced the outline of your cheeks, trailing like a sentence that can never be finished. You were still trembling against his touch and there was little he could do. “I thought,” the words barely made sense when you started talking, pausing to swallow a salty lump in your throat. “Everything would be okay once,” you stopped again and Mingyu echoes the last word, “once?”

Eyes that were cast down until now looked up at the boy with pain painted over the glossy depths of your orbs. “I thought I could write when you came back,” you forced the complete thought out with a ragged breath, barely loud enough to reach Mingyu’s ears. Teeth dug into his soft peach pink bottom lip as he puzzles for a response. The silence between you stretched out until he asks, “remember the time it happened to you last year?” You nodded with eyes flickering towards the floor again.

“I told you that if nothing could fix it, you’d take a break,” you wasted no time in turning to him and opening your mouth to refuse it but he sternly calls your name once the word “but” rolled off your tongue, drawing his brows together to form creases. You held back the rest of the words you wanted to say, pressing your lips together as his sharp features immediately soften, “take a break.”

All you did was jerk your chin up in acknowledgment, unable to look at him directly as more tears started to build up in your puffy eyes. “We can’t spend time together if you don’t,” he trails off, throwing a crooked smile in an attempt to lighten the mood as much as he could. Fresh tears slid down your already tear-stained face. Mingyu reached out to wipe them away but you had already brushed them off with the back of your hand. “I’m fine,” the weak smile you gave him made his worries grow instead.

Mingyu didn’t know what else could comfort you, squeezing you tightly as he pulls you even closer to him. “You don’t seem fine,” he says weakly with a hint of sadness behind the rough lacquer of his voice. You remained silent, refusing to answer knowing that he saw right through you. “I know you don’t want to,” he caresses your face, guiding you to turn to him, “but you have to.”

A small nod was your response; his heart ached at the sight of you like this. Brows created stiff slopes and the frown on his weary face drew lines from his nose to the edges of his lips as a quiet breath escapes his nostrils, carrying all the sadness he couldn’t bear to keep in. “(Y/n),” he croaks, taking a brief moment to think of the words to say, “don’t think of it as taking a break because you can’t write,” another smile spread across his lips, squeezing your hand in his, “but because I want to spend time with you.”

You pondered upon his words that seemed like forever to him. Mingyu held his breath, only releasing it the moment your lips curled into a wide smile, “okay.” He repeats after you, his own face lighting up immediately after seeing you happy. Perhaps it made him a little bit too giddy, grabbing your wrist and heading straight out the door along with the tiny furry friend that followed the leash that was now in your hands.

The calm winter air and the snow that crumbled around your legs felt refreshing, lifting your spirits high up to the heavens. You wrapped the blanket tighter when you felt the cold slowly crawling under your skin. Noticing how the small puppy shivered, you picked it up and cradled him in your arms. The bigger puppy, whom everyone knew as Mingyu, never noticed how chilly it actually was due to the multiple layers of thin sweaters underneath the baggy red one he had on.

He patted a sturdy spot flat to sit on, and began working on whatever the sorry clump of snow was supposed to be. You simply watched him from above, stifling giggles that almost escaped your pursed lips.

Determination sparkled in his eyes as fingers glide around the clump to draw a heart deep into the snow, using it as a guide when he piles more snow onto the lumpy pile. Mingyu stops, noticing the sudden silence between him and you. The boy looked up and saw you admire the line where clear white snow met a jet black sky while a hand stroked the little dog’s curly fur. The sight of which, melted the frost that crept up to his cheeks, painting them a cherry red that resembled the candy canes hung around the balconies of the neighboring houses. Mingyu smiles inwardly and finishes up his little gift.

He happily pats it all around, forming the solid heart that was apparently meant for you. “(Y/n),” was written at the center with his index finger, which he proudly showed off to you with a grin from ear to ear. “Picture it!” he chants. Mingyu poses next to it, with two fingers held up and a toothy smile that would make people think the sun was rising at two in the morning.

Once his picture was taken and approved of by none other than him, he jumps to his feet. “Let’s go in now,” he sang, rubbing his two hands together, “it’s getting too cold.” You tail the boy, slightly confused and only a few steps behind him when he opens the door for you.

Inside, he picks up the bag of groceries previously left leaning against one of the walls, bringing them to the kitchen. Curious, you quirked an eyebrow upwards and stepped into the kitchen as well. You watch him put away all the thing he bought, leaning down to prop your cheek onto a balled fist. “What’s all this?” you inquire, eyes following the bottle of vanilla extract he held in between fingers.

“Plans for tomorrow,” he chimes, pulling out bags of flour and cornstarch. Knowing Mingyu, he probably invited the boys over for dinner, and planned to prepare everything a few hours before. “At what time will the boys arrive tomorrow?” you ask, setting the puppy down. The boy’s eyes widened, as if you suddenly grew two heads, and your face stiffens, not knowing what you said wrong until he began laughing with a hand over his mouth. “It’ll just be the two of us,” he tells you, which struck you with confusion. Ever since you could remember, Christmas would always be spent with the boys at wherever Mingyu would be. You didn’t mind at all, but he goes and cancels all of it without even telling you. “Why?” you stammer.

His eyebrows draw together as if he was pleasantly surprised, “don’t you want to spend time with just the two of us?” He crumpled the paper bag, stepping on the trash can’s pedal to toss the bag in.

Another “but” came out of you right before Mingyu continues. “I know you do,” he teases, nudging your arm lightly. You share a brief laugh with him, and he exclaims with enthusiasm, “see?” Your eyes drifted away from him in embarrassment, bashfully pressing your lips together in an attempt to suppress a cheesy smile. As you looked away, a hand pats your head firmly. Mingyu strokes your hair for a while before planting a kiss on your pinkish cheek. “You do,” your cheeks grew several shades darker, a reaction Mingyu was pleased to see. He sheds his winter jacket and caught a glimpse of the wall clock.

The clock was still ticking and soon, it would already be three hours into the morning. Mingyu had realized that, and felt that it was time to retire.

“Well then,” he lets out a short sigh, “let’s go to bed!” His pajamas were on in no time, flowy and loose as he plops onto the space beside you. A loud breath left him, carrying all the stress he had bottled up, and he slipped under the cozy blanket. Mingyu squirms closer and closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you towards the middle of the bed.

The puppy Mingyu had brought home found the bed, barking as she couldn’t reach the edge of the bed frame. He chuckles and leans down to scoop her up, letting her down on the space between your legs and his. She presses the folded comforter with her tiny paws, adjusting to the new environment she found herself in. When she deemed it safe, her body curled to sleep.

“She’s one of my gifts for you,” Mingyu watched it all unfold with a proud smile, as if he was a parent watching his child learning how to walk. “I didn’t know what to get you but I thought a puppy would be great,” he brushes a hand through the sleeping dog’s fur before returning the arm to its place around your waist, “I was sure you’d like her. And I think I’m right.”

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers with eyes fluttering close to fall into a peaceful slumber.

His words floated around your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. Of course you didn’t mind him bringing home a puppy, however you weren’t exactly fond of animals. Why did he say you liked her? Did you really?

Aside from the confusion, uneasy feelings arose regarding how hard it would be to take care of the little thing and you thought of returning the gift despite how disappointed Mingyu would be.

You thought about it properly. And while you did, your attention drifted towards the small smile on your boyfriend’s face as his chest quietly rose up and down, eventually moving towards the resting pupper that probably went through a lot today. You took one last look at both of them, a smile gracing your lips as you rolled over to your side and snuggled against his chest before closing your eyes.

Maybe taking a break wouldn’t be so bad.

You looked forward to Christmas with them, slipping into a deep sleep with sweet dreams of a Christmas morn filled with the fun and warmth you haven’t had in a while.

151 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

Something Borrowed 6/? (Witney) - Miss Bianca & jazz

Summary: This was going to be Courtney’s first visit to her childhood home in five years, and she’d made a lot of plans. Obviously, none of them had included falling into a whirlwind, summer love affair with her father’s 28-year-old fiancée, three months before the planned wedding. But sometimes, things just happened.

Miss Bianca’s A/N: And we’re finally back. I missed jazz and our girls so much, y’all have no idea (or maybe you do, idk). Just a brief reminder that this playlist made by @alaskasthrone exists, because we recently discovered that it’s been expanded since we last listened to it, and all the songs are still perfect. And, of course, you can always find us at @willamdelrio and @artificial-jazz , and this fic will be posted on ao3 as well.

jazz’s A/N: SO SO sorry for the delay with this chapter – real life got in the way a bit :((( Believe me, Miss Bianca & I missed writing this fic as much as you all missed reading it. Catch up on Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, & Chapter 5 here, my loves! Enjoy <3

Willam’s expression hardened the moment Dave’s voice boomed through the house, and Courtney felt her heart sink into her stomach. They were standing at the top of the stairs, holding hands, and Willam was wearing a full face of makeup and a tight skirt for the first time in what felt like forever. Impulsively, Courtney went up on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to Willam’s cheekbone.

When Dave stepped into view, Willam dropped Courtney’s hand instantly, and Courtney watched helplessly as Willam descended the stairs.

Swallowing hard, she stepped backwards into the hallway, and then turned around, retreating into her room. She could greet her father later, she figured. Closing the door, Courtney sat cross legged on her bed, and waited for Willam’s inevitable knock or intrusion.

It never came. The sky went dark outside her window, and when Courtney finally emerged from the room to find something to eat, the house was quiet again.

She imagined that maybe, Willam would be curled up in the living room, or waiting spread out on the floor of the foyer, or perched on the counter sporting nothing but panties and a seductive smile. But there was no sign of the other woman anywhere, and by the time Courtney reached the kitchen, she’d realized that the house was empty but for her and the trail of lights she’d left on behind her.

She ate cold vegan pizza from the fridge as quickly as she could, hating how big and lonely the kitchen felt without Willam propped against the bar, watching her with a hip cocked.

The whole house felt lonely without Willam, Courtney realized. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stood on the fluffy rug in the foyer, her toes digging into the soft fabric, and stared up at the balcony of the second floor landing. She couldn’t help but picture Willam there, in yellow-gold lingerie and matching heels, her elbows resting on the railing, fingers curled to beckon Courtney upstairs and a mischievous smirk daring Courtney to fuck her right there, make her moans bounce off the high ceiling.

The steps felt endless and tiring, and by the time Courtney had collapsed onto her bed once more, her limbs were as heavy as the weight in her chest. She checked her phone impulsively every few moments, hoping that maybe Willam had texted.

As she lay on her back, she found herself wishing desperately that they could rewind to this morning, with Willam pressed against her, breathing softly against her bare chest and slowly tracing her name on her hip.

Courtney waited until past midnight for Willam to come to her room like she’d said she would, digging the other woman’s fur coat out of her closet for some sort of company. Eventually, Courtney found herself curled up on her side, trying her hardest not to cry and wondering why all the color seemed to have been sucked out of the world.

She fell asleep accidentally with the lights still on, the coat pulled over her like a blanket, wrapping her up in the fading scent of Willam’s perfume.

—–

“Courtney?”

Burying her face in the covers, Courtney squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She’d hardly slept last night, and she needed a few more minutes.

“Courtney.”

The mattress shifted under her, and then there was brightness behind her eyelids as the coat that had been pulled up over her head was abruptly tugged away from her face.

“Wake up, princess.”

At that, Courtney’s eyes flew open as she suddenly processed who the voice belonged to.

Willam was sitting next to her, in a t-shirt stolen from Courtney’s closet. The sunlight from the window was making her eyes sparkle, and she was smiling down at Courtney, bright and warm, and Courtney thought she might burst.

Pushing the coat the rest of the way off her, Courtney sat up as fast as she could, practically throwing herself into Willam’s lap and wrapping her arms and legs around her tightly. After a few seconds, Willam hugged her back, and Courtney felt her laughter more than she heard it, utterly caught up in the softness of Willam’s body pressed close against hers again.

“Good morning,” Willam chuckled, and Courtney smiled into her neck.

“Morning,” she replied, her voice muffled. “You didn’t come last night.”

“I couldn’t, babe,” Willam said, rubbing her back. “Looks like you cuddled with my coat instead.”

“Shut up,” Courtney mumbled, stifling a laugh. “I missed you.”

“It hasn’t even been a day, Court,” Willam said, and Courtney could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Getting all clingy with me, as if I was the one away for a week.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too, you asshole.”

Willam ran her fingers through Courtney’s hair, and tugged at it gently, making Courtney lift her head. She was still smiling, a slightly lopsided grin, and Courtney was struck with the overwhelming urge to hug her again, even though she’d never stopped in the first place.

“I did,” she admitted. “But you gotta let go of me, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not gonna kiss you till you brush your teeth,” Willam said. “And you’re super cute right now, and I don’t wanna wait.”

“Well, you can wait another minute,” Courtney said decidedly, tucking her face back into Willam’s neck.

“Bossy,” Willam commented under her breath, and Courtney swatted her back. “Hey!”

With her qualms from the night before almost completely forgotten now, Courtney squelched the small voice in the back of her head reminding her why things couldn’t be this easy forever. In a few minutes she’d brush her teeth, then kiss Willam on the lips and everywhere else for a little while, or maybe for a few hours, and she couldn’t bring herself to care about much else.

It was this same giddiness – the warmth that Courtney felt at Willam carving out a special moment in time for her that morning – that carried Courtney through the rest of her day. Nothing, Courtney determined, could take that away from her.

She was Willam’s best-kept secret, her favorite thing – Courtney could feel it in the intensity of Willam’s passing glances, in the way a small smile seemed to permanently hide in the corners of her mouth whenever Courtney was nearby.

She’d ride that high for as long as she possibly could.

Courtney even learned to love the game. She found herself staying up late and listening for footsteps outside her bedroom door, when it was quiet and dark aside from the moonlight casting shadows onto the wall, waiting with bated breath for Willam to slip in undetected.

They’d run “errands” for Dave in the afternoons, drive to the laundromat to pick up his dry-cleaning and fuck in the parking lot, Courtney’s sundress bunched at her waist.

Or maybe, if Willam wasn’t wearing a bra, Courtney would tug down the top of her dress until her chest was exposed, and fuck Willam hard, pressing her upright against the door in the backseat of the Jeep so anyone could see them, watching her breasts jiggle in time with her gorgeous little moans.

The scandal of it all seemed to make the whole affair sexier – Courtney soaked her panties through at the thought of getting caught, and noticed how much more desperately Willam bucked into her touch when she thought someone might be watching.

None of it seemed real, when Courtney took a moment to distance herself from the situation. They were two girls living out a movie plot, downsized to a screen that could be shut off as the credits rolled after a cheesy ending and a ride off into the sunset that solved all of their problems.

There were little things that poked holes in Courtney’s fantasy, though – things like Willam’s huge, ugly engagement ring slipped back on after she washed any evidence of Courtney from her fingers, like the way Willam disappeared into the master bedroom when Dave got home. Like the distant sound of Dave’s yelling later on, and the total lack of reply that made Courtney’s stomach turn.

Sometimes, Courtney secretly worried that maybe it wasn’t that kind of movie after all.

Even still, around the house, she graciously accepted the subtlest of touches: the brush of Willam’s fingertips against her side as they shuffled around the kitchen after dinner, or how she’d squeeze Courtney’s hand when she was sure no one was watching, a motion so quick that Courtney would’ve thought she imagined it if it weren’t for her racing pulse.

The alternative to it all was to acknowledge the fragility of their arrangement, its potential expiration date looming large on the horizon – and that wasn’t an option. Not for Courtney, at least. No, she’d keep things as they were for as long as possible, ignoring the wedding planning tabs constantly open on Willam’s laptop, thank you very much.

So, when Willam approached her in the hallway upstairs later that week, mumbling an incoherent request into Courtney’s ear while a hand on the small of her back guided her into her bedroom, the butterflies in Courtney’s stomach had her complying obediently.

As soon as the door was shut and locked behind them, Willam’s mouth was on Courtney’s, biting and insistent, her hands gripping Courtney’s hips tightly to keep her steady. Courtney looped her arms around Willam’s neck, letting the other woman walk her backwards until her weak knees hit the foot of her bed and she sat down on the edge, breaking the kiss involuntarily.

She panted softly, trying to catch her breath. Her own cheeks were flushed, she could feel it, and her lower lip stung deliciously from where Willam had bitten down and tugged with her teeth.

“Baby,” Willam sighed.

Something tugged in Courtney’s chest at the pet name, and she looked up at Willam reflexively. Her breath caught at the intensity in Willam’s gaze, the raw hunger and the hint of something else, hidden in the affectionate tilt of her lips.

“Yeah?” Courtney managed to say, squeezing her thighs together.

“Baby,” Willam repeated, and Courtney swallowed the whimper rising in her throat. “Fuck, I want you. So bad.”

Willam bent at the hip to press a kiss to Courtney’s lips, slow and languid, her hand cupping Courtney’s cheek as she stole what little air was left in Courtney’s lungs and left her lightheaded.

Rendered completely speechless, Courtney gave a small nod in acknowledgment, ran her hands up the backs of Willam’s legs, letting her touch speak for itself. Willam pushed gently at her shoulders, and Courtney moved backwards onto the bed, watching Willam pull her skirt up around her hips and crawl forwards to straddle one of Courtney’s thighs.

Courtney wanted to say something, tell her how glad she was to see her, how insanely gorgeous she looked on Courtney’s lap, but Willam was kissing her again before she could get the words out.

Once she could get her brain to focus on anything other than Willam’s mouth on hers, Courtney scratched lightly up Willam’s abdomen, pushing her shirt up and running her fingertips all over the exposed skin. Willam hardly gave her a moment to breathe before kissing her again, and again, as if Courtney was addictive, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of.

When Willam finally broke the kiss and propped herself up with her hands on Courtney’s shoulders, both of them were breathing heavily, and Courtney could feel the heat and dampness of Willam’s panties against her thigh.

Willam’s eyes were almost wild, her lips pouty, and she dragged her nails slowly across Courtney’s chest, gaze following the movement of her hand. When she popped the top few buttons of Courtney’s shirt, scratching over the top of her bare breast, Courtney couldn’t help but whimper softly, needing more contact. As if triggered by the noise, Willam started to rock her hips against Courtney’s thigh, groaning low in her throat at the friction.

Courtney settled her hands on Willam’s ass, encouraging her movements, and the Willam started to grind down faster, nails still digging into Courtney’s skin.

“God, look at you,” Courtney murmured, staring up at her. “I wish I had time to kiss you everywhere, make you feel as gorgeous as you are.”

Willam let out another moan at the praise, louder and needier than the first. Courtney let out a strangled breath, the sound of Willam’s voice sending a bolt of arousal straight to her core. She sunk her fingers into Willam’s ass, squirming and lifting her hips from the bed in an attempt to get some friction where she needed it most.

Clearly taking notice of Courtney’s desperation, Willam tossed her head back and moaned again. Her eyes narrowed almost playfully as she continued to grind on Courtney’s thigh without making any effort to return the favor.

“Do you think he can hear me?” Willam panted, letting out another groan, back arching. “Fuck, I almost wish he would. Then he’d know I fucking fake it with him.”

Courtney whined softly, flexing her thigh and pulling Willam’s hips down more roughly. Willam was only confirming what she already knew, but the wild recklessness in her words combined with the way she was using Courtney’s body to get herself off was enough to make Courtney want to cry out, beg to be touched.

“You know that, right?” Willam said breathlessly, her hand kneading at Courtney’s breast now. “You’re the one who makes me moan and scream, Court. It’s just – ooh, fuck – just you.”

“Good,” Courtney exhaled, reaching up to tug at Willam’s shirt, pulling her back down enough to kiss her. “I want you all to myself,” she added against Willam’s lips before wrapping her arms around her and sliding her hands down to rest on Willam’s ass again.

“You have me, baby,” Willam gasped, her head dropping to rest on Courtney’s shoulder as she moaned again, this time high pitched and through her teeth.

The sound was sharp, cutting, and for a moment, Courtney was positive that it must’ve been audible in the hallway and throughout the entire house. But there was no knock on the door, no footsteps in the hall, and Courtney wanted to hear that noise again more than anything.

Willam panted hot breaths on Courtney’s upper chest as she drove herself higher and higher, and then her teeth closed around flesh, biting down on the taut skin just below Courtney’s collarbone, and Courtney cried out, channel clenching around nothing as she moaned brokenly.

She almost didn’t hear it, the first time the car horn blared from outside. Her thigh was practically slick now, and Willam was moaning in her ear, but when the horn beeped again, three times in succession, everything came to a grinding halt.

“Oh, shit,” Willam hissed, her eyes wide and frantic. “Goddamnit, I fucking – Court, I forgot.”

“What?” Courtney demanded, as Willam scrambled off of her, swaying from side to side for a moment before stumbling towards Courtney’s closet. “What did you forget?”

Willam smacked her forehead with her palm, rubbing the heel of her hand against the space between her eyebrows as if she was trying to clear her thoughts. She wrenched open Courtney’s closet, rifling through the section that was now solely devoted to her own clothing.

“Willam!” Courtney exclaimed.

“It’s fucking – it’s date night,” Willam said finally, and Courtney could see how shaky she was. “He’s waiting for me in the car, I’m already late, I’m not ready -”

“Calm down, Bill,” Courtney said, sitting up. “It’s fine, he’ll understand.”

“You know he won’t,” Willam said, looking back over her shoulder at Courtney. “Cut the crap.”

She hastily took off her tank top and pushed her skirt down past her hips, stepping out of it quickly and grabbing a dress from the closet. It was tiny and shimmery, iridescent shades of teal and green and purple, and Courtney could practically feel how thin and slippery it was as Willam slid it over her head. With the way it loosely draped over her figure and hugged her hips, the way it rode up her thighs the second she started to move, Courtney’s hands were already itching to touch.

“You can’t just put that on and leave,” Courtney complained, watching the hem slide higher up her thighs as Willam reached up to tousle her hair into a shape that seemed intentionally debauched, rather than accidentally so.

“I gotta,” Willam said, looking over to meet Courtney’s gaze. “I’m sorry, kitten. I’ll be back soon, promise.”

With that, she spun around, and disappeared into the hallway before Courtney could protest any more. Courtney stared at the mess Willam had left in her wake in stunned silence, articles of clothing and discarded hangers littering the floor, and flopped back down on the bed with a huff of frustration.

Willam could be gone for hours, Courtney figured. She honestly didn’t know if she could bear it.

She could feel the heat pooling between her own legs, and her thigh was still slick from Willam’s wetness, and she wanted to punch something or someone out of sheer sexual frustration.

With her chest rising and falling heavily, the top of her shirt still open to expose her breasts, Courtney glared at the ceiling. She’d liked it much better when Willam was on top of her.

Now, she was just worked up, and more than a little bit annoyed to boot. In hindsight, Courtney realized, she probably should’ve grabbed Willam’s hips and pulled her up to straddle her face instead, so at least one of them could’ve gotten off before Dave had so rudely interrupted.

Selfishly, a part of Courtney hoped that Willam was just as wrecked as she was. From the wild-eyed look on the other woman’s face as she’d changed and stumbled around the room, Courtney was pretty sure that was the case.

She pictured Willam, legs squeezed together underneath the dinner table, squirming in her seat as she ordered an expensive cocktail on the rocks with too sharp a tone – or trying her hardest to maintain conversation and feign interest in Dave’s dull anecdotes, still in the pair of soaked through panties that Courtney knew she hadn’t changed, her nails digging harshly into her own thighs.

The image made Courtney feel slightly better, almost – but didn’t do much in the way of distracting her from the ache in her core. Briefly, she considered taking care of herself, but gave up the thought after a moment, realizing that it wouldn’t be satisfying after having Willam so close so recently.

“Fuck, I want you. So bad.” Willam’s words echoed in Courtney’s ears, and she took a shaky breath, crossing her legs at the ankles. Baby, Willam had called her. Over and over, making Courtney melt into the bed, soft and malleable and adoring under her. “You have me, baby.”

“Fuck,” Courtney whispered out loud. She grabbed a fistful of her comforter, wished desperately that it was Willam’s hair instead.

After a moment, she loosened her grip. Willam liked when she tugged on it gently, just enough to direct her but not enough to hurt. Willam liked everything better gentle, liked to feel pretty and soft and cared for.

Courtney doubted Dave knew that. Or cared enough to find out.

Men were pigs, she reasoned. And men like her father most of all, the ones who used money and power to manipulate women and then treated them like dirt for letting themselves be taken advantage of.

The combination of arousal and righteous indignation felt like an adrenaline rush, prompting a desire in Courtney to spring up and do something rash, like rush outside and cuss out the first wealthy-looking man she ran into, or video call Willam and make her wish she’d bailed on date night altogether. Clenching her hands into fists, she closed her eyes, and waited for the feeling to pass.

Except it didn’t.

While she possessed just enough self-control not to call up Willam, Courtney did still want to send her a quick text, something to remind her of what she was currently missing out on. After all, Courtney was suffering. It was only fair to let Willam know.

As soon as she had her phone in her hands, one text asking Willam to come back soon turned into three, then six, telling Willam without sparing any details what she wished she’d done to her in the short time they’d been alone together.

It was like shouting into the void. Each message was opened and ignored, until Courtney was gripping her phone tightly enough that she thought she might crack the screen.

Willam had some nerve, ignoring her like this. Courtney was aware that she probably seemed beyond needy and possibly annoying, but at this point, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She wanted Willam’s attention, and she didn’t feel like waiting.

Making a split-second decision, she popped open the rest of the buttons on her shirt, and shimmied her shorts down her legs, leaving her in her panties with her chest bare. She crossed one arm over her stomach to push her breasts together, showing off the small amount of cleavage she had, and fumbled for her phone. The adrenaline was still coursing through her system, and she could practically feel her pulse under the fingers laid across her ribs as she found the perfect angle and snapped a few pictures.

Courtney chose the most flattering of the bunch and sent it quickly off to Willam without a moment of hesitation, refusing to give herself the chance to overthink it.

She only had to wait a few moments until the read receipt appeared, and only a few seconds after that before Willam finally decided to reply, spamming her with messages.

The string of curses and exclamation points, along with a desperate inquiry as to what the fuck Courtney thought she was playing at, made satisfaction curl comfortably in Courtney’s stomach. She smirked at her phone screen and wiggled a little, feeling a bit like a cat who’d finally managed to get her owner’s attention. Or, rather, a kitten.

And Courtney was in the mood to play.

For good measure, she shrugged the shirt off her shoulders and took another few shots, free hand toying with her own nipple until it was stiff and sensitive under her fingers.

She figured that would be enough material to keep Willam’s mind on her and her alone until the date was over. And after that, if Courtney played her cards right and sent a few more choice messages later on, she was positive Willam would find a way to get her alone again once she arrived back home.

The next hour and a half crawled by slowly, and Courtney remained on her bed, lounging, occasionally texting Willam, almost painfully on edge. The moment she heard the car pulling into the driveway, she was on her feet, pulling her shorts back on and buttoning up her shirt just enough to cover herself, not bothering with decency.

She hurried down the stairs, and positioned herself against the open archway that led to the kitchen, pretending to scroll through her phone casually as she eyed the front door.

Dave was the first to step inside, not bothering to hold the door open for his fiancée. When Willam entered behind him, catching the door just before it slammed shut, Courtney’s eyes were glued to her immediately.

Willam had matched the tiny dress with a pair of thigh-high black boots, spiked heels and her toes peeking out at the front. Courtney barely even heard her father’s half-hearted greeting, too busy staring at the exposed skin between the hemline of the dress and the place where the boots ended, Willam’s flexed thighs practically daring Courtney to sink her fingers into them.

When she managed to tear her gaze away, Willam was looking right back at her, her cheeks tinted a shade of pink that didn’t match her blush and her pupils very obviously dilated.

It took every ounce of restraint Courtney possessed not to stride forwards and grab Willam, kiss her right there in front of her father. Willam’s tongue poked out to wet her lips, and Courtney had to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress a groan.

Seeming fully and thankfully oblivious to the palpable tension in the air, Dave plodded upstairs for the night, calling Willam to join him as he reached the second floor landing.

Courtney watched Willam take a deep breath, and then the other woman was walking up to her, grasping her hand tightly and leaning in to press a brief but heated kiss to her lips.

“Wait right here,” she whispered, the intensity in her eyes taking Courtney’s breath away. “Okay?”

Courtney managed to nod, and then Willam backed away. She was already halfway up the staircase by the time Courtney recovered her composure, ears straining to listen to Willam’s impressively convincing spiel: assuring Dave that there wasn’t a need for him to wait up for her, that she’d join him in bed after a quick nightcap.

Courtney wanted to tell her that it wouldn’t be quick at all, not if she had anything to say about it.

It was only a few minutes before Willam’s heels could be heard clicking back down the stairs, and Courtney felt like a coiled spring, wound so tight she could burst.

Willam stalked towards her with purpose, her hand landing flat on Courtney’s chest, pushing her back against the rounded frame that she was leaning against. Courtney reached for her instantly, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer – not unlike how she’d wanted to that first night after their family dinner, in the kitchen.

There was a moment of silent tension, Willam’s face just inches away from hers, her skin so hot that Courtney could feel the warmth through her dress.

Courtney’s lips grazed Willam’s, and the other woman exhaled a soft breath against her mouth.

“Goddamnit, Courtney,” she whispered.

When Willam’s lips finally met hers again, Courtney found herself smiling into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Willam tightly.

“So you liked my photos?” Courtney giggled.

In lieu of a response, Willam snaked a hand underneath the hem of Courtney’s shirt, fingers pressing into her lower back. She sucked Courtney’s bottom lip into her mouth before resting her forehead against hers, reveling in the moment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You almost killed me,” Willam muttered with a low chuckle.

Just then, there was a loud thud from upstairs, and both of them froze momentarily. Courtney tried to push Willam off of her, and the other woman made an affronted noise.

“In there,” Courtney explained, nodding towards the kitchen.

“Oh.” Willam nodded, keeping one arm around Courtney and leading her into the kitchen with her thumb rubbing lightly over Courtney’s spine.

The room was relatively dim, but neither one of them made a move to flick on a light switch. Instead, Willam guided Courtney around the bar, pressing her quickly against the counter and surging forwards to kiss her again.

Courtney allowed Willam to take charge at first, content to let her get out some of her pent up sexual frustration. Sliding her hands down to cup Willam’s ass and kneading with her fingertips, Courtney considered her options.

It only took her a few seconds to decide, and then she was spinning them around, pushing Willam back against the counter instead and swallowing her responding squeak of surprise. Pulling up the bottom of Willam’s tiny dress, Courtney slipped her thigh between Willam’s, breaking the kiss for a moment just to hear her groan at the contact.

“Oh my god,” Courtney breathed, rocking her hips to grind her thigh against Willam. “How did you make it through dinner like this, babe? You’re soaked.”

Willam whimpered, and Courtney leaned in to press another kiss to her lips before rolling her hips forward again.

“Good job, love,” she murmured, meeting Willam’s eyes just in time to see them glaze over.

She traced Willam’s curves with light hands, up the smooth scales of her dress and around her breasts. Courtney let her touch linger there for a moment before dropping to her knees, smirking at Willam’s audible gasp.

She pressed her cheek to Willam’s inner thigh, glancing up to watch the faint shimmer of the dress over Willam’s heaving chest. It was a gorgeous image, Willam practically buckling at the knees as Courtney’s breath tickled her skin, and Courtney couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

Pushing up the hem of Willam’s dress, Courtney leaned up, placing a kiss at the apex of her thighs, through the damp fabric. Willam shuddered, letting out a moan.

“Oh, Willam,” Courtney sighed, laying her cheek against Willam’s thigh again. “You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, you know.”

“But, baby,” Willam started, her voice weak and raspy.

“I can’t come up there to shut you up,” Courtney said, turning her head to kiss the front of Willam’s hip softly. “Can you keep quiet, love? For me?”

Willam’s hand slid into Courtney’s hair, tugging, trying to pull her face closer.

“I’m not gonna do anything else until you say yes,” Courtney added, nuzzling against the spot she’d just kissed. “And I want to so bad, Will.”

Willam bit her lip, nodding slowly at Courtney with a pained expression on her face. Her fingers coiled more tightly into Courtney’s curls, and Courtney didn’t need any more encouragement than that.

She pulled Willam’s thong away from her wetness, maneuvered it down her legs and over the tall boots, making sure the fabric didn’t catch on the heels.

Willam’s thighs were quivering under Courtney’s hands already, and she rubbed over them as she pressed kisses across the front of Willam’s hip, following the tug on her hair to where Willam wanted her so desperately.

One hand sliding between Willam’s legs, Courtney shifted slightly, gripping the back of her knee.

“You might wanna hold onto something,” she said, feeling Willam tense at her words.

Too impatient to wait any longer, Courtney lifted Willam’s leg, draping it over her shoulder and opening Willam up to her sight. She was so wet that her inner thighs were slick when Courtney kissed her there, and Courtney felt lightheaded, the scent making her head spin.

The point of Willam’s heel dug into her back, grounding her again, and she leaned in to lick a long stripe up Willam’s folds, suppressing a smile at the strangled noise that died in Willam’s throat as she tried to keep from moaning.

Not wasting any time, Courtney tilted her chin up, focusing her attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves, unable to resist teasing it a little with her tongue to make Willam whine.

“Court, baby, please,” Willam begged, her hips jerking.

She knew Willam was hardly staying upright as it was, and she couldn’t afford to draw this out, since the kitchen had no doors and they could technically be caught at any moment.

After a few more brief moments of teasing, Courtney made quick work of opening Willam up with her tongue, driving her to silent screams, her body shuddering as she pulled and twisted Courtney’s hair.

Wetness kept pooling at her entrance, dripping almost constantly onto Courtney’s chin and lips. In a split-second decision, Courtney slipped the hand that wasn’t holding Willam’s thigh up on her shoulder between Willam’s legs. She slid two fingers inside Willam, adding a third when she met no resistance, and this time, Willam failed to suppress her raspy moan.

The slick noises sounding from Willam’s core were enough to make Courtney dizzy with arousal herself, and the fact that she was causing it doubled the effect. She was intoxicated by the feeling of Willam practically throbbing under her tongue, the way her walls fluttered and grasped around her fingers as she pumped them steadily in and out.

When Willam said her name again, voice breaking on the last syllable, Courtney sealed her lips around Willam’s clit, sucking hard as she twisted her wrist to reach the sweet spot inside.

The muffled scream was audible as Willam came, clenching tight around Courtney’s fingers, wetness dripping onto her palm. She was tugging harshly at Courtney’s hair, heel digging into her back again, all sharp edges and soft warmth inside, and Courtney wanted the moment to last forever.

When Willam sunk to the floor, satiated and spent, Courtney was there to envelop her, placing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. She pulled Willam’s legs onto her lap, carefully removing her boots for her, keeping her eyes on Willam as she slumped against the cabinetry.

“Can we just… sit?” Willam asked, her voice sleepy. “I don’t wanna go upstairs just yet.”

Courtney’s heart fluttered, and she pulled Willam into her arms, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Of course,” she replied softly.

Willam hummed, tucking her nose into Courtney’s neck. After a moment, she let out a sigh, sounding so perfectly content that Courtney felt her chest expanding, wanting to give the entire world to this woman who was crumpled halfway in her lap on the kitchen floor.

#willam belli #courtney act #witney #something borrowed #smut #angst #romance #cisgirl au #miss bianca #jazz #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au

62 notes · View notes

wind-in-the-weirwoods · 7 years ago

Text

Hogsmeade, Chapter 1

A/N: hello friends I got inspired to write the Harry Potter AU I didn’t know I wanted. I haven’t thought this out too much so brace for some errors. because it’s my AU, Harry is of Indian descent and Hermione is Black (she hasn’t appeared in this chapter, but may show up later. we’ll see. mainly I want to make that very clear right now)

idk how long this is gonna be bc I’m just flying along while I’ve got the energy to put these ideas into writing, so please just enjoy it for whatever it turns out to be

thanks for reading!

Jon Snow looked out at the Forbidden Forest and sighed. The Owlery was Hogwarts’ highest point, and one of his favorites. He could see for kilometers from up there, the forest spread out before him. He knew all the landmarks – the lake, the groundskeeper’s hut, the fierce old Willow – but his sight was drawn to what lay beyond. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimneys of Hogsmeade far off in the distance.

Jon sighed again and looked away, bending to draw a stiff-haired brush from its bucket of steaming water. He lifted his wand and paused, then put it back in its place at his belt. He adjusted the thick yellow-and-black scarf at his neck and brooded.

Lord Stark’s advice had been clear: working hard was good for one’s character. Cleaning the Owlery with magic would have been the smart thing to do, but sometimes Jon needed to work with his hands and feel it in his back.

He set to scrubbing. His fifth year had been a whirlwind so far, stuffed to the gills with difficult coursework and responsibilities as one of his House’s leading lads. His favorite outlet for expressing frustration, Quidditch, had even eluded him thanks to Gryffindor’s new seeker; the talented second-year was coming into his own and had dealt Hufflepuff a heartbreaking defeat.

Jon, a beater, had sat helplessly and watched as the Potter boy outraced their own seeker in pursuit of the snitch. The thin lad was even nearly as good at scowling from a balcony as Jon was; they had passed each other on the castle walls as Jon was ascending, the bespectacled Indian having likely sent off a letter by owl-post. Jon couldn’t escape him.

So here he was now, angsting in the turrets of the Owlery with a bucket of soap.

His best friend Sam had promised to help later after he was finished tutoring first-years for the day.

“Honestly, Jon, why go through the trouble?” Sam had questioned while seated in the common room hours before. He had leaned in from the armchair he slouched, and whispered, “Do you not remember the automation charm? I can go over it with you again.”

Jon’s cheeks burned. “I know how to do it. It’s just something I’ve got to do.”

Sam shrugged and reached for a thick book. “If you say so. Still,” he licked his finger and turned quickly through the pages, “all those stairs, all that scrubbing. There’s better uses for your time.”

At that Jon had stood up and muttered something impolite. He turned and stalked away.

Sam sniffed placidly and began to read. “It’s your time.”

Jon had cleaned the first three rows in the Owlery and just started the third when he heard soft footsteps approaching. His shoulders rose and fell before he turned, wind whipping the dark curls framing his face into a frenzy.

He had started to speak but his voice caught in his throat and his thoughts froze. Sansa Stark approached, dark robes clutched tightly against the wind. The witch’s eyes darted from the foamy brush in Jon’s hand to his unruly hair, then settled inquisitively on his face.

They knew each other, though not well. Sansa’s younger sister Arya had joked that Jon was their American cousin, though that wasn’t quite right. Jon’s father, some Muggle businessman in New York, had never acknowledged him before his mother’s death so he had been adopted by her distant family back in Edinburgh as a young boy.

Jon’s potential for magic had emerged not long after, quelling any fears that he may have been born a Squib. Lord Ned Stark, a prominent voice in the Ministry of Magic, had raised Jon as his own. That met with varying success in the family: Sansa’s brother Robb embraced Jon unquestioningly, as did her other siblings. But she took after her cold mother Cat and had always given Jon a wide berth. He had silently preferred it to outright distaste.

“Hello,” Sansa greeted cautiously.

Jon replied too quickly, cutting her off. “Hey. Why are you up here?”

The tall girl collected her thoughts. “I was looking for you. Sam Tarly said you would be moping up here.”

Jon seethed. “Well, he’s right.”

Sansa had not yet moved from her spot atop the stairs, but she raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jon aside. The gesture seemed owlish to him. “Why?

“It’s something your lord father always said,” Jon answered slowly, dropping the brush into the bucket and shaking his hands dry. He crossed the room and knelt to collect some of the dried straw, tossing the rubbish into a sack.

“I know what he said about working hard,” Sansa replied coolly, following Jon as he cleaned. “But why this?”

He paused before speaking. “When I was in my second year, old Professor Aemon caught Sam and me in some mischief or another. He had us help him clean the Owlery twice a month for detention.” Jon lifted a hand, index and middle fingers outstretched. “It still needs cleaning, and I need something to keep myself busy. So two birds, one stone, you know?” He closed his fist for emphasis, but had to brush his long hair away. It was beginning to annoy him.

Sansa digested that for a moment and waved towards the stairs. “Well, could you step out with me? It’s dirty in here.” The wind howled and her brow furrowed. “And it’s loud.”

“I’ve been cleaning,” Jon protested, but she took him by the wrist and stepped down into the staircase, protected from the northern winds.

Safe from the elements, Sansa faced Jon with an inscrutable expression. “We’re going to Hogsmeade this Saturday.”

Jon blinked in surprise. “You and Margaery?” The Tyrell heiress was nearly inseparable from Sansa, the politician’s daughter, especially in public. Even if Slytherin prefects did not usually escort Ravenclaws to and from their classes, chattering happily all the while.

That got Sansa to drop her façade. She rolled her eyes and exhaled deeply. “Hardly. She is going with Robb. And you’re going with me.”

“She’s with Robb?” That was newsworthy, at the least. How hadn’t he told Jon?

Sansa was tentative, but the exasperation never left her voice. “Well, not with him. But I’ve seen the way she looks at him. Now they’ve gotten a date, and I suppose it’s only a matter of time.”

Jon leaned against the mortared wall. He hadn’t realized how tired he’d gotten, having spent most of the morning in the Owlery. What time was it?

Sansa looked at him strangely. Almost nervously, but that couldn’t be right? It occurred to Jon suddenly that he’d gone longer than was appropriate without responding to her.

“Right, then, so Margaery’s going to Hogsmeade with Robb. And we’re going too?”

Relief flashed across Sansa’s face so quickly Jon doubted if it truly had. She spoke confidently in a rush: “We are. I’ve already reserved the carriage and ordered breakfast for the ride into the village, we’ll have more time to shop that way.”

Jon’s voice was apprehensive. “Who is ‘we’? Arya and Bran can’t go yet, they’re just in their second year.”

Sansa’s lips were set in a firm line and Jon tried not to pay them much attention. “We are,” frustration edged in as she stressed the first word, “you and I. The day passes are addressed to Sansa and Jon.”

Jon blinked. “That’s,” he searched for a word, lost, “that’s specific.”

“Yes,” Sansa said through gritted teeth, “so you’ll be ready?”

“Um,” Jon replied.

“We’ll just be doing some shopping,” Sansa explained soothingly, “and some eating, we can find lunch in the village. And maybe some drinking.” Her eyes sparkled and Jon failed to look away.

Jon was still stammering. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Sansa stared at him hard, blue eyes intense. “It sounds nice,” she answered flatly.

Jon’s mind was racing now. “It really does,” he insisted, “I need to do some shopping anyway. I’m out of yarn, and this scarf has been fraying,” he tugged at it helpfully to display the loose ends.

“You knit?” Her voice fell to a bizarre tone of confused approval.

“I do, Gilly taught me some years ago. It’s taken me time, but it’s not so hard once you get into rhythm…”

“I know how to knit, Jon.” Sansa shook her head slowly. “I don’t know that you know anything. I’ll see you Saturday morning, and remember not to worry about breakfast.”

She spun and descended the stairs, leaving Jon shaken and alone with his bucket. “What just happened?”

Sansa sat at Ravenclaw’s House table in the Great Hall, absentmindedly listening to her friends Jeyne, Sheila, and Mya argue about something or another. She reached for a lemon-crusted scone when it was intercepted by a green-jeweled hand.

“Hello, best friend!” Margaery slipped into the vacant seat beside Sansa and offered her the pastry. “Really, love, you’ll turn into a lemon if you eat them everyday.”

Sansa snatched it away wordlessly and took a bite. Margaery laughed and playfully nudged her shoulder. “Don’t be so sour,” she warned lightheartedly.

Slytherin’s favorite daughter sitting at the Ravenclaw table had drawn attention in the past, but Margaery’s continued pushing on that boundary had lessened its impact. Now even her most jaded critics suspected she genuinely liked the Stark girl.

“If you want sweetness,” Sansa said, then paused to placidly sip her pumpkin juice, “you should see my brother Robb.”

Margaery’s eyes nearly sparkled. “And why would he be so sweet to me?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Sansa said while staring hard at her dinner plate.

Margaery tapped a nail thoughtfully against the wood table. “He’s sweet to my eyes, sure. But he’s interested?”

“Of course he is,” Sansa answered, forcing herself not to answer so quickly, “why would I bring it up if he wasn’t?”

The hazel-eyed girl nodded, counting off each point against her fingers. “Slytherin and Gryffindor. Two prefects of opposing Houses. A year’s gap in ages. It has the makings of something scandalous.”

Troubled, Sansa turned and looked Margaery eye-to-eye. “Not that you’re seeking to start a scandal.”

“Of course not,” Margaery replied softly, placing a comforting hand on Sansa’s, “I just have to be aware of these things, given our families’ standing. Of course you understand.”

She knew that all too well. “Of course,” Sansa agreed, “but you really should speak with him. He’s free this Saturday.”

Something playful danced across Margaery’s expression. “Why isn’t he telling me this himself?”

That was because Sansa had coerced Robb into cooperation, threatening to tell their mother why he had really stayed at school for Christmas holiday during his fourth year. Things hadn’t worked out between him and Alys, but Robb still didn’t want those details reaching home.

“He wanted me to test the waters,” Sansa lied helpfully. In truth, Robb wasn’t at all opposed to Margaery’s affections. She was as pleasant as anyone could be, much less a Slytherin, though he didn’t know as much of her as he would have liked before agreeing to distract her for a day.

Sansa could dispatch Sheila and Jeyne easily enough, and Mya was quick to take a hint. But Margaery had been a more-difficult nut to crack, and Sansa found herself elated at the scheme working out.

“I’ll have to call on him, then,” Margaery said sweetly. She stood and stepped lightly away, gracefully navigating the crowd of dining students.

Sansa took another bite of the lemon scone and savored it. This contrived trip to Hogsmeade may work out for them all after all. But her goals were lower than most – not that she dismissed the difficulty of it. If she could get the dour Jon Snow to smile just once, all this scheming would be worth it.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow x sansa stark #harry potter au #hogsmeade fic #my writing #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfic #jonsa fanfiction

27 notes · View notes