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deludedfantasy · 2 months ago

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There’s a thread you can follow through this early part of the story and that’s living up to your parents’ expectations.

Although the reader doesn’t know it yet, the woman Vash dreams of on the sandsteamer is his mother. The dream, and Vash’s subsequent conversation with Kaite where he explains his philosophy, stretches back to Rem and the promise he made to her. He hopes to live up to her expectations and, with his every action, keep her memory alive. That’s a large burden to carry, especially because Vash considers every person in the world his responsibility. But there’s nothing more important to him than doing good by the woman who may as well be his mother (as we later learn).

Kaite is in a similar bind, though he’s far more conflicted than Vash. He’s desperate, he needs money, and his father died leaving him, young, alone, and penniless. So Kaite gives up the only thing of value he has, the thing his father worked his whole life to build, the sandsteamer. In the process, he gives up on his father’s wish for Kaite to do good and build something with his hands. He thinks it’s too late for him to fix this, but Vash believes otherwise. As long as Kaite keeps trying, it’s not too late to fix this, to live a life his father would be proud of. (And it's not like Vash is telling himself this because he's immensely full of guilt about July or anything like that).

In one way or another, everyone in Trigun is trying to live up to something, whether it’s their own expectations or that of their parents. They are haunted by the choices they make and their failures to live up to familial expectations.

But, I think, the narrative we’ve seen up until now gets disrupted in the Little Arcadia arc. Between Kaite and Vash, there was a lot of focus on duty and what they owe to others, to the people who raised them and left them far too early, when they were too young to have a good sense of the world or how to make their way through it.

While we don’t know if Meryl’s father is still alive or not, in Little Arcadia, she struggles with her own actions and how they would be perceived by her father. She doesn’t write to her family as often or as in detail as Milly does, worried about what they might think of her bloody and dangerous adventures. What would they think of this life she’s taken up, so different from her prim and proper office job? She thinks she’s cold and callous for not getting angry when Badwick pointed a gun at his parents, for not immediately jumping in to do the “right thing.” She does eventually stand up for what’s right and help the family keep their little slice of Eden. But I think what the father says to her after the stand off is important.

He tells her, “Choose your own path, and walk it with confidence. All of life is connected. You must live your own life, and your parents will live through you.”

It’s a bit of a change from how we’ve seen Vash relate to this idea of familial duty. He thinks he must walk in the path Rem set out for him and it’s the only way for him to live up to her. But maybe that’s not true. Maybe simply living your life, the way you want to, in the best way you can, is all you have to do. When your parents love you, they just want to see you alive and happy, in whatever way that looks for you.

Hearing that, Meryl is finally able to write a long letter to her family, detailing all her exploits. She’s proud of the life she lives and what she does, and that’s what matters most. But that leaves the reader wondering, if Vash is walking this path for Rem, is he truly happy? Did he really choose this life of his own will? It’s an interesting question, one I don’t have an answer to. I think Vash’s decisions and the things that set him on this road are complicated, and that in some ways, he’s too responsible of a person to ever step back and let things happen. I think he believes he doesn’t have another choice, regardless of whether that’s true or not. But I do know is that he believes in the life he lives and that has to matter for something, because it’s what keeps him going.

#trigun #trimax #trigunbookclub #dani talks

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marshmallowprotection · 5 months ago

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Hey Kait! I'm not sure if somebody's asked this before, but what do you think SE Saeran's process of falling in love would be? How would he perceive the feelings at first? Would he even know what it was? Would he be confused? Resist, ignore? Even be frightened of it? Do you think he'd avoid his mc like the plague because he doesn't want to burden them with him because he's 'broken goods', or, would he welcome those feelings as something new and something good? 🤔💖

I think it hugely depends on one simple fact. Did he know you when he was in Mint Eye or not? Because, his actions are going to change depending on that answer. If he didn't know you, then his emotions are likely tangled together in a way similar to what you mentioned to me.

It's more likely that you'll see him pull away from somebody who is compassionate and considerate of his needs because they don't know what he's done and who he was before they met him. He just doesn't know what it feels like to be treated with compassion without someone wanting something in return, the nature of his relationship with Mint Eye was that of take-take-take. It took everything from him and he never saw a single return.

When you don't know what it's like to not only give everything you have to give to people you care about but receive it in return, it can make relationships feel imbalanced. He wouldn't want somebody to give him their all only to realize that he may not be capable of doing that. It's going to take a long time before he's ready to get into a relationship, and even when he gets into a relationship, it may take even longer for him to learn his boundaries and how to communicate his wants and needs.

I don't think he would avoid you like the plague, but I do think it may feel that way at first when you're trying to get to know him. If you don't know what kind of person he is, you might misunderstand his body language. He is uncomfortable with people getting too close to him, so you need to respect his boundaries as you get to know him so he can feel more comfortable with you around. He has spent most of his life feeling like a caged animal, so anything you can do to help him not feel like he's trapped will make a hell of a difference in the way he thinks about you.

But, even if you do everything right, even if you respect his boundaries, even if you give him the space he needs as you become his friend first and foremost, he will undeniably face insecurities and fears along the way. He does feel like he's damaged goods! Why in the world would anybody want to be close to somebody who has to fight himself every morning to find a reason to survive?

That's how he feels about himself. He can't always promise that he's going to have a good day, and he doesn't want to ruin somebody else's day because of it. Even if you make him feel good, better than he's ever felt, how could he not be afraid of what might happen if you get too close to him?

It's not even that he would doubt your ability to defend yourself or hold your own against him, it's more so that he can't understand why you would give somebody like him a chance to begin with. If you knew his hands were tainted with blood, would you feel the same? I don't think you have to fight him to make him like you.

For him to become your friend in the first place means that he already liked your company.

You're not going to jump into a relationship with him without having been his friend for a couple of months, and even that is a process. He doesn't know how to communicate what he's feeling on the inside. Imagine the inside of his head like a box with a bunch of trinkets in it that you like to shake. There are a lot of things going on inside his head, some good, some bad, and once they get all mixed up, it's hard to explain what's going on.

The easiest thing to do would be to avoid you if he can't tell you how he's feeling.

But, since you love him, you probably are a pretty stubborn person. Sometimes, you need to be a little bit stubborn with him because just like his brother, he might try to pull away to spare you what he thinks to be damaged goods. You don't have to be the one to make him believe he's priceless, you just need to smile at him so he can learn that lesson for himself. You can't fix him, and you shouldn't be trying to fix him, but you can love him for who he is and that's when he'll realize that he doesn't have to hate himself.

He doesn't have to fester.

He doesn't have to suffer.

He can live.

He can even live happily.

#sheepsdreamworld #mod kait #ask #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #mm #choi saeran #se saeran #character analysis #saeran

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yanderes-galore · 6 months ago

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Can I request Yan Jd relationship with reader that look a like her mom? It's up to you if it's platonic or romantic

I wasn't quite sure what you meant but I hope this works ^^;

This idea is based on these HCs, for this you are the daughter of Marcus's darling.

Yandere! Platonic! JD Fenix Concept

(Mother! Darling AU (?) - Extended Idea)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Yandere sibling, Angst, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Marcus is yandere for your mother, Forced family dynamic, Blood mention, Violence implied, Forced companionship.

I'm not going to lie, I feel like JD would resent you and your mother at first.

Your mother has been his father's obsession for... years.

Even when he was with Anya, he never loved her as much as your mother.

JD already has a strained relationship with his father.

So when he first meets you he's... unsure.

His father looks so happy around your mother.

Although, JD himself is a bit envious that Marcus acts like a father to you.

While JD may hate you at first... when working alongside you, he begins to realize you aren't that bad.

You are friends with Kait and Del, so JD begins to feel a bit bad for resenting you due to your mother.

He probably shouldn't even hate your mother, she doesn't seem to support his father's behavior.

However, when Marcus does announce that he is officially getting together with your mother, JD accepts it.

You're technically his sibling now... with the whole Swarm situation going on, he doesn't mind that anymore.

You two really do fight better alongside each other.

JD goes from hating you to seeing you as family.

Even more so when Marcus tries to encourage JD to see you as a sibling.

Marcus is doing his best to create a new family.

Marcus wants your mother as his wife, you as his daughter, and JD to be your brother.

While JD originally wasn't fond of you, he's always been loyal and protective of family and friends.

So you have him as your overprotective brother... making your little "family" have two yanderes.

JD may even apologize to you for blaming you.

Truth is, none of this was your fault... or your mother's.

JD may even know how toxic the bond between your parents is, but ends up feeding into it.

If anything, your beliefs swap.

You're against the whole thing while JD supports it.

He tells you he loves you as his new sister, that it actually isn't that bad being your step/half-brother.

JD makes a promise to his dad that he'll protect you in battle.

That or if Marcus wants you to drop working with the COG and come live with your mother, JD will support that too.

JD can't really blame his dad... even JD is coming to terms with the idea of losing those close to him.

For example, Del in Gears 5 if you make the choice.

So, in a similar manner to his father, he wants to protect you.

The Swarm may be a problem, yet when it's all over...

Maybe you can all be a family?

You and your mother are the only ones in the family who can see how wrong this all is.

JD sees you as the sibling he never had, his mother died before she could give him one.

He regrets ever hating you or your mother.

He loves you both and makes it a goal to keep you all happy.

If anyone tries to harm you, JD will be there to defend you.

He doesn't mind getting a little bloody for those he loves... just like his father.

If you tried leaving with your mother, he'd help his father find you both.

Anything to make his father happy... the two understand one another as time goes on.

He's... a lot like his father, actually.

While JD's hugs would feel innocent when you were both just friends...

Now they just feel like a cage...

After all, JD is just like his father in the end... and you can never leave your family.

"Y'know... being siblings doesn't seem that bad, does it? I'm sorry I hated you... I see you're important to me now. I'll be sure to protect you with my life... now and forever."

#yandere gears of war #yandere gears #yandere james dominic fenix #yandere jd fenix #platonic yandere

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kindaoptimisticsquirrel · 1 year ago

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Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol14 Part 4

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

That's it! The final chapters and thoughts beneath that! AAaaah.

Chapter 8: (I'm having more image space now with one chapter so..uh...just me nearly posting every image in this one)

The biggest mystery in Trigun: HOW did they get a photo of Vash with all black hair and HOW??? did they get a photo of Knives?? I just have to assume they either have really good painters or maybe just painted black hair on Vash's old photo...and...someone made a photo of Knives moments before his death. Poor sucker.

Black hair Vash with his hair down looks so...so...so agh! So young! And vulnerable! And actually pretty good but also so cuddlesome and wow that hair looks soft. Every hair-era of Vash gives me different vibes, and this one especially has something super soft/melancholic...it's after his widower era (which is half-black hair) so it's a settled and accepted sadness but it's also post-trimax so it's also a hopeful atmosphere? Hope that explains it??

Also he's just super cute like this.

Also, hello there interesting bit of information that totally slipped past me on my other reads.

Egg Plant Dome...what exactly is this? I think that happened in ch6 when the feathers and plants fell down. Is this something the plants created, like a shell for the whole city? (don't wanna live underneath, it must be like a big oven during the day)

What a moment

(Oh they are talking about the wound Knives inflicted on Vash! When they fought and while Knives stabbed him, Vash protected them both from Chronica) There's something so meaningful about Knives, who thought himself above all humans, pleading them to save Vash's life.

What a way for the antagonist of the story to go. It doesn't end with violence, it ends with a silent thank you, with him protecting one last time what is dear to him and choosing his own (inevitable? Vash lives on. So could he have lived on if he wouldn't have created the tree?) end.

Just saving these because we're getting more cute Vash faces here.

Of course Vash finds an exit directly at the spot of his pursuers. And cute salamander thing!

Salamander and Vash do not approve.

IT'S HIIIIIM

The image of Vash with a wig, fake teeth and a fake beard is really entertaining. But really, was that ever an option for him? An option at least he'd be satisfied with?

Meryl & Milly! (Don't wanna forget Milly!) Aaaw and directly back to bantering!

Hehe love that face

awww and he would have loved to be fighting his way out of messes with these two together!

Vash was utterly betrayed in this moment.

Can we get a character song where Vash sings this in Stampede, please?

24h live emergency broadcast? Phew boy Vash is not getting ANY rest.

Many familiar faces! That one older boy, I wondered if that could be Kaite from the sandsteamer? And nice to see that the guy Vash and Wolfwood beat the shit out of at Lina's is still holding up to his promise and protecting the place now (and serving drinks as it seems). Then of course Livio!!! Being at the orphanage, next to Wolfwood's grave...I'm sure he's protectig them like nobody else could, being the best big brother to them all they could wish for. (I have to say I loved his short hair look but long hair works too) And we can spot Chronica...the Nebraskas and Brad and Luida! And, I love the way Vash starts from being exasperated to running to laughing. Has he missed this? Maybe!

Running into the far horizon....

And we're here, throwback at one of the very first pages of Trigun with the same line "And the same song of humanity still sang".

What an ending, huh? I really liked the ending..it's kinda started like it has begun, with Vash running away again. A bit like a circle, but in a way, that's the theme. Because at it says "the same song of humanity still sang" - some things don't change, humans will always be humans and will always hunt Vash down for the bounty (with the extra now that there are a lot that do LIKE him and want to know what he's at, knowledge which Meryl and Milly can provide). It's such a dark and serous manga, and to end on such a light note, with a really humour-filled last chapter, to me it transports the feeling of hope. The first time I read this it moved me so much. And it made me tear up not because of sadness, but because the ending is so hopeful, so good despite everything that happened! And the fact that Vash manages to get back up again, running and smiling, while he suffered so so much throughout the whole series...isn't that a wonderful thing? To not lose your smile after all that? Isn't that the most difficult thing maybe, and he still manages?

I wanted to add some final thoughts about the manga, but I don't really know where to start? I don't have any specific thoughts, and if I get, I might make an extra post...but I just want to say how much I love this series. I read it around february the first time and was instantly flashed. It turned out to be a completely different story than I had expected. It turned out to be very confusing at times (esp. because I read the Dark Horse translation which sometimes lacks in context in the dialogues) but I STILL loved it to bits. And it's maybe now one of my favourite series if not the. It's hard to compare different mangas and series, but when I'd had to decide for one where the theme moved me the most, is interesting, where the characters feel alive and tangible, where everything feels so round and like a story that was exactly written down as the author intended and not a bit shorted or altered, where you can feel the passion in the art...man it's just this one. That doesn't lessen the impression other series have on me, but it just means that this one stands out SO much that I can always go back to it and will always love it. And, when I said it turned out completely different than expected, I especially refer to the ending. And I also want to point out what I pointed out in a post earlier, about Vash having to kill somebody, about the fact that I don't think this story is supposed to preach us any moral, any higher ideal...it just tells us that nothing is easy, people are complex, decisions are complex and fucked up stuff happens. And despite all that, you can STILL choose kindness. It's a story that sounds like it's being told exactly like it happened. Nothing is put in a better light, and the bad guys are not put in an extra bad light.

What we take from that is up to us.

#trigun #trigunbookclub #it's really over huh #I plan to pester the bookclub tag with more stuff I can think about for the next days #I cannot let it end already

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writersfearofrecognition · 1 year ago

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Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

Chapter 5:

After we sing some midday songs, one half of the counsellors takes the kids to Abi’s work station, the others are instructed to start cleaning up the places that weren’t needed today and tomorrow.

Jacob tries to get in my team but Kaitlyn drags him with her before he can object and i walk down to my hiking station alone, gathering random forgotten bits while trying not to think about what Kait said.

I’m done way too quickly so i lay down in the grass and look at the clouds. thinking about my future.

we three would move in together, the house was already chosen by Jacob’s parents and rented by mine…maybe also an overprotective rich schtick by his.

Kaitlyn’s parents were glad we were all together, taking care of their little ‚kitty‘.

i snort, Kaiti would kill me if she knew i thought about that nickname.

and my parents….didn’t really care. they promised to help with the move but who knows what could come in-between…Jacob was the most reliable person i know.

that realisation made me sit up.

Well. Kaitlyn too. but more in the practical sense. she was more ruthless…

Jake was the one that was always there to consult me…for every heartbreak, for every bad grade, for every cancelled family time…he, his stupid yellow van and infuriating…cute…grin had always been right outside my window.

he would drive us to Kaitlyn’s house and then imagine some scenario that made Kaitlyn come right out the door.

and then we would drive around, sit at the weirdest parking lots or lay on the littlest patch of grass we could find.

i couldn’t risk all of that for a stupid feeling i got once.

well…with one eye closed only once.

„Fuck.“ i whisper and stand up.

„okay. under no circumstances we will talk about that feeling. even if we now know that it’s there.“ i coach myself while slowly walking back to the lodge with everything i found.

at the lodge the others aren’t back yet so i clean up slowly, now truly focused on my game plan.

god me, Kaitlyn and Jacob were such cliché athletes weren’t we?

i giggle quietly about that realisation when the doors slam open and kids flood the room again.

„OH! are you already back?“

the kids swarm me and show me each and every band they made for me or anyone else.

i talk to them attentively and don’t even notice that the other counsellors came with them.

„Hey-.“ Jacob starts but is called back by Mr. H. for the fire pit and he sighs before walking off, i didn’t even meet his eyes.

„Kaitlyn made you something (Y/N)!!!“ one of the kids yell and Kaitlyn scoffs embarrassed.

„oh really? did the mean, mean Kaitlyn make me a friendship bracelet?“ i asked with a teasing tone.

she rolls her eyes and shoves it into my hands.

it was our colours. yellow, black and green. and our initials woven into it.

i actually start tearing up a little when i see and she notices.

„hey, it’s no biggy. Jake made them. he wanted me to give you it tho…“ she gives me a meaningful stare and i sigh.

„okay i need help putting it on, can one of you please help me?“ i ask into the small round of kids gathered around me and the bracelet is promptly secured on my wrist.

Kaitlyn pats my shoulder and we walk towards the fire pit together.

back at the fire pit, the kids thankfully all want to sit around me so i had a natural barrier against Hurricane Jake…god i love that nickname. platonically of course. yeah. yeah. anyways.

Jacob and Nick appear with the fire wood right after all our kids had settled down and i act like i’m busy with the kids.

he sits down right opposite to me and tries multiple times to signal me to leave with him but i stay strong.

after some time, Mr H. notices and gives him more duties to keep him contained.

Jacob walks off sulking and Mr H. gives me a concerned look which i shake my head at.

nothing was wrong. haha. hm.

i sing more songs and dance until Jacob comes back with a big boxes after some time and sits down opposite me again.

Mr H. opens the box and takes out the letters the kids wrote at the start of the camp…and the letters we wrote at the start of our journey to the quarry.

„oh god.“ i mutter and Abigail giggles as she was the only counsellor that heard me.

„Kids. you know what these are right?“

„yesss!“ the kids yell and he smiles.

„those were the letters you wrote to yourself, 2 months ago. i’ll give them back to you now and you can read them and if you want to you can read them out loud of everyone, but we won’t force you. those words are very, very private.“

he picks up the first envelope and shouts out the name.

when he’s done he still has 8 letters in his hand.

„and those are the letters our hardworking counsellors wrote to themselves before they drove here. those are also very private. but you can also read them to us if you want to.“

he gives the letters out alphabetically and i give him a smile when he pushes my letter into my hands.

i read slowly.

i was excited for this camp, the new experiences as a counsellor…excited to spend time with my best friends. find new friends.

once i’m done i look up and watch the others read their letters.

Ryan is deeply in thought, Emma is smiling and Jacob is furrowing his brow before raising his hand. „Mr H.“ „yeah?“ „i would like to read my letter, if it’s okay.“ „sure Jacob.“ Mr H. sits back down and gives him the go to start reading.

„uh okay- it’s going to be a bit weird…but yeah. those are my feelings.“

i gulp at the word feelings.

„hey Jakey, it’s me, from 2 months ago. i’m writing this right before picking up Kaitlyn and then (Y/N) to drive to the train stations to pick up the other guys. Somehow Mr H. got me to be the driver this year, i dunno how he did that. uh yeah. he said we should write about our feelings, and yeah. that’s weird.“

the kids giggle around him as he scoffs smiling at himself.

„i’m really f- flipping excited to get out of our town. i mean it’s ours and i love it but yeah. maybe it will different for us. like without tech and stuff. just sports and nature. i know (Y/N) gonna love hiking around all day. and Kaitlyn’s gonna love it too. in her own way. and i’m gonna love being with them. doing the sh- stuff i love. for 2 flipping months. like dude. that’s like all summer. all by ourselves. out of this town. with new people. like a test thing before we move to college…together.“ he stops for a second and my eyes snap from the fire to him automatically.

he’s looking right at me.

„we three are going to be together forever. whatever happens.“ he says without looking at the paper.

i stare into his eyes.

mind blank.

he swallows and looks back down.

„uh yeah- whatever happens…and dude am i excited for the other dudes.“

the guys start cheering.

„and the kids….f- fling i forgot my baseball bat.“ he stops reading and looks up again, „i packed that before writing on.“

„i’m going to miss my cat tho. i hope mom actually cares for her, but yeah. after this summer she’s going to come with us.“

i smile. i miss his cat as well.

„Mr H. said we should write a goal we have for this summer,“ he explains, „i didn’t really write about it, i just made a check list.“

„typical jock.“ Ryan mutters and Jacob huffs but continues, „first, stay strong. like muscles. because of my scholarship.“

„well you definitely achieved that,“ Nick laughs.

„second, don’t make (Y/N) or Kaitlyn hate you…“ he looks up at the two of us and we both frown.

i from shock, her from unwanted affection. „well yeah, i- don’t think we’re mad at you.“ Kaitlyn says, awkwardly and i nod fast.

„third, make it a good time for everyone.“

Mr H. pats his back, „You did that son.“

he nods and looks back at the paper.

„yeah. that’s it.“

„okay. thank you Jacob for reading. anyone else?“ Mr H. looked around the fire and a few kids raised their hands but no other counsellors.

„well then, Olivia, how about you read next.“

i don’t really listen anymore.

too tired and too…thoughtful.

Kaitlyn drags me up with her when the night finally comes to an end.

i sing the camp song one last time and Mr H. splits the group again, one for cleaning up, one for bringing the kids to the cabins.

I’m team cabin and walk to the front of the group before any wardrobe man could sneak into my point of view.

since Mr H. patrolled the cabins there was no way for us to sneak out for one last party without kids and i fall asleep before Emma could ponder over any other idea.

it's the next morning, some kids ask me for the favour of Jacob but i tell them that they have to ask him themselves.

i throw my bag inside his van first thing in the morning, while he is getting bombarded with questions, so he can't even look at me.

thank god.

I'm too embarrassed for any contact with him.

the drive home would be prison.

at 6 pm all the kids wander inside the big bus, the bags were carried by Jacob, due to the favour and i wave from the banister with Dylan and Nick.

after that i follow them inside like a dog while Kaitlyn watches me leave from downstairs.

our first conversation would be once we three were alone on the highway to home and it would entail nothing about feelings, or love, or Emma, or Nick, or anyone else. only good old friends. platonically friends.

i try to get myself into a good mood inside the toilet by smiling fake but Dylan’s hard knock gets me out of my feelings.

„Come on (Y/N), other people need to shit too.“ „sorry!“ i come out and give him a small smile, „sorry.“

he only hums and locks the door in my face.

i hear Jacob’s boots approach the main hall, so i scramble to the next door and land in a small living room, made writing room. i hear Jacob talking to Nick and Dylan, then a sigh and how two bags are picked up.

„air’s clean.“ Nick yells and laughs at my expression when i come out hesitantly. „you can’t hide forever alright?“ he asks in his Australian accent.

„i- that is a problem for future me.“ i mutter and look at the front door, scared he will come back.

Dylan hums and wants to say something but is interrupted by Mr H. „Kids, come get the phones.“

„ah. finally.“ Dylan sighs and Nick and I snicker.

I intentionally don’t take Jacob’s phone, only the phones of the girls. but Nick is fast than me when it come to Abigail’s.

I give him a knowing look and he smiles.

„well then. bring them the phones, i’ll be right with you…“ Mr H. mutters and we all hum, too busy with the implications.

i give the boys the right of way and lowkey hide behind Dylan as Nick throws Jacob his phone. when they walk down the stairs i act busy with my phone, even though there is no signal and no notifications and stay between Dylan and Nick.

18:21

after Emma and Abigail arrive without their bags, Mr H. and Ryan come back with the van keys and Dylan mopes about his phone battery, Jacob tries to start the van.

„What’s wrong?“ Mr. H. asks, weirdly stressed. „Ugh…Dude. i don’t know. i- i think there’s something wrong with the engine, Mr H.“

i sigh and cross my arms, while the situation gets even more heated.

finally Mr H. tries to start the van himself and Jacob wanders beside me.

i shrink into myself and try to keep calm. his stupid green shirt looks too good.

„I thought i told you kids to check everything!“ Mr H. yells and i jump.

Jacob puts his hands inside his pockets and hums.

Kaitlyn tries to defend herself, but Mr H. doesn’t take it and she and Jacob share a look. He steps out again with a swear.

„well, uh- Look it’s not that big of a deal, we’ll just spend one more night here.“ Jacob says slightly concerned why Mr H. is so aggressive now.

„No- NO. Just stop. let me think.“ i jump again as he now yells exactly at us and Jacob take a step forward to give me protection.

Ryan follows Mr H. with his eyes, now really confused.

He catches the keys Mr H. throws him and follow him while he is muttering around like a mad man.

after a short private conversation where Ryan just frowns in confusion, Mr H. drives backwards, almost hitting me, if Jacob and i didn’t jump out of the way and he is off.

„What’s with our bags?“ Emma yells after him but he is long gone.

„so…what was that about?“ Dylan asks into the round.

„he uh…said to stay inside. that we’re not leaving until the morning.“

„are you kidding me?“ Emma yells and my mouth falls open.

another night. with this shit hanging over my best friend and me. i can’t help but look at him but he is grinning from ear to ear.

„Oh (Y/N)…“ he’s swaying from side to side as i cradle my head in my hands, ignoring the feeling spreading in my stomach because he said my name.

„fuck. my. life…“ i mutter as Jacob dances around.

„what are we supposed to do?!“ Emma yells again.

„we should go inside. like he said…“ Ryan’s deep voice beside me said.

But Dylan had a different idea.

„We could go inside. until morning…or…or we could do something else.“

i raise my head. Dylan always had genius ideas. maybe he knew a way home.

Ryan asked what he was talking about and Dylan explained, „P. A. R. T…why the fuck not!?“

i groan, but Dylan talked on, „It seems like that stars have aligned for us. no?“

i didn’t really have another choice. either staying the night alone, with the possible threat of talking about FEELINGS when Jacob corners me with no distractions. or with others and no possible way to talk about feelings.

i sigh quietly while Jacob jumps around.

„oh, dude. fuck yes! I’m in. Nick, you’re in.“ Jacob said excitedly besides me, while pointing at Nick who nods relaxed.

„Dylan’s in. Obviously. my man.“

interesting he knew his name now huh.

„i’m with Dylan.“ i say before Jacob can address me, staring on the floor. „yeah dude!“ Dylan high-fives me with more enthusiasm than i could ever have.

Kaitlyn agreed, Emma as well.

Abigail didn’t really want to, but also not really had another choice and finally Ryan reluctantly agreed, but said it was a bad idea, which made me snicker.

Jacob takes the planning lead, obviously.

Abigail and Nick for firewood, obviously.

„(Y/N) and i will go to the stores for some supplies…“ he teases and i gulp but Emma comes to my rescue.

„I’ll go. (Y/N)’s probably still exhausted from the hike right?“ „Right.“ i say quickly and don’t meet Jacob’s eyes. he would catch me lying. he always did.

„(Y/N) comes with me to the fire pit. we need to talk anyways.“ Kaitlyn's bee earrings are the last thing i see before i get dragged off into the sunset.

A/N: following the canon for now :)

#idk how to tag stuff #jacob custos #jacob custos fanfic #jacob custos imagines #jacob the quarry

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makima-s-most-smile · 1 year ago

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Trigun Ultimate 1 (Part1)

With much delay, I can finally join the bookclub with my meagre thoughts and comments. I just try to say stuff that I haven’t seen, I think.

Trigun Ultimate: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4 Trigun Maximum: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 3.1, 3.2, 4.1, 4.2, 5.1, 5.2, 6.1, 6.2, 7.1, 7.2, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 9.1, 9.2, 10.1, 10.2, 10.3, 10.4, 10.5

Chapter 1: The $$ 60 Billion Double Dollar Man

I thought the city in the establishing story was a small one, like in all those westerns of my youth. Few houses, one mainstreet, that kind of city. But with those numbers of daily casualties (), it has to be a bigger one. Damn, that totally did not register when I read it the first time!

I love how subtly Vash moves. I didn’t see in the first readthrough that he puts his finger into the barrel. And all the while his opponents are boasting, he is taking control of the situation! Nice!

Me, when I see all the Trigun theories!

With the knowledge that they are in April and thus in one of the main cities, the whole number of dead plants makes so much more sense.

Also, how bad are the conditions that they don’t have access to a resident doctor in one of the big cities?! It looks like that woman’s personal plight, but then the waitress lady chimes in with the plants, so the whole city seems to be dying?

I still hc that Vash is in April specifically to avoid another maintenance bug taking more of his sisters. For the humans, but also for the sisters on their own.

Chapter 3: Hard Puncher

Thank you, Speedwaggon, for your explanation…

Look! Glasses! He puts them on! Squeeeee!

Again, this is the entire April city. Not gonna lie, I read somewhere that like 20? Million people survived the Great Fall. Somehow I don’t believe that, if that tiny city is one of the big ones. But then again, this is Nightow still finding his vibe.

Chapter 04: Bang!Bang!

I love how mindful and in the present Milly is!

Sadly, she never really gets her win. No wonder many people think of her as just a silly airhead, when her mindfulness gets immediately countered by a joke.

Someone needs to calculate by those examples how much a donut costs and then how much a bullet does.

Chapter 05: Assault

A riverbed? There were rivers in the past? It would make sense, since worms and thoma are native to the planet and water is needed to start life. But damn, did No-Man’s-Land lose water by twin sun sunstorms?

Chapter 6: Diehards

Somehow I feel like the speech bubbles should be pointing to the other, with Kaite being the one who knows the ins and outs of the ship.

Chapter 07: Rem

Dude’s living partly in a fantasy world… Neon being fully like: It's like in the novels!

Well, Vash, buddy. You could explain Kaite afterwards, why you are so weird, but we already know that you won’t stay to explain!

Not the first time people mention Vash's arm. Totally not becoming important later.

Here he’s an adult or at least a teen, not like a kid as shown later. Could it be that he still feels like the time he lost Rem and only his body aged? His mind is still trapped in that moment.

Kaite lost his dad and fell on hard times. This will not be the last time that we see kids’ desperation exploited in the manga. It is also an interesting mirror to Vash with how he connects to Rem. We know at that point that she was there when the ships fell and died then, too, and that she rescued humanity. And that Vash made a promise with her (more like with himself… but in her memory). Her memory leads his actions, while Kaite’s negative memory of his father led his. Though we see the kid reflect upon them and it more or less boils down to him feeling neglected and left alone for his father’s work and then… well, truly left alone. This is his turning point.

Vash is not wrong with telling Kaite to start anew and all, but that also blatantly ignores how much that kid went through and it has a very optimistic view of the future, maybe even naive. But that is the basis on which Vash is able to move on. It also reflects on Rem, but that is something for later.

What I think is interesting, Vash does not look happy or forgiving in the panel, it looks serious, too serious, too burdened for the thing he just said. It is not uplifting at all…

08: Duelist

Hello, Stormtroopers! How do they even miss his nether regions? Vash just stands there, legs spread apart and they miss everything!

A…hahahahahaha. He doesn’t seem to be, does he?

Lol, Milly gave herself the nickname?!

Okay, but this is massively cool!

Oh, so Neon was actively looking for Vash to hunt him down for killing his family? And then he lets him just go. Like I said, this guy is not really living in reality. A fucking romantic!

#trigunbookclub #trigun bookclub #Trigun Ultimate Part 1.1 #Trigun rant #trigun #trigun ultimate #trigun rant #zard rant

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loving-jack-kelly · 2 years ago

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vs but for our party

i want to seed this like a tournament bracket and make you guys do it irl lmao

teak could theoretically win, but meag would have to break their rolls so low streak. sal's hammer is overpowered, so I'm not counting that in the equation bc I made a mistake in letting him have it.

marjorie as a character could 100% win, I can feel it. they're so tough. i'd have to have spell lists from all the magic users to see what she'd be going up against, but on character strength and power alone, marj knows what it means to fight tough and win. they'd refuse to fight teak tho I think, and if teak and Marjorie teamed up i think they'd eviscerate the competition.

liv is a bit of a wildcard, but rogues aren't huge damage doers, at least not the way jack is playing him. i think liv would try and fail to talk his way out of it and then probably roll really low and get taken out at the knees. kal also has potential to do some pretty massive damage, but I also feel like he'd refuse to fight his friends. the true wildcard is reed, who as we've seen can do some pretty massive amounts of damage when he gets lucky. it'd be a question of how ruthless kait is willing to be with it, I think, and the rolls. a lot of reed's spells are saves not attack rolls, so I think i'd also have to compare skills and proficiencies to get a good read on that.

outside of dnd mechanics. i am now making a braket and I will go through match by match to see what I think on a character level lol <3

round 1 match 1: teak vs kal. i think teak might get the advantage here because he's small and very aggressive. i feel like he could wear kal down with some dancing around and avoiding at first, and then use his three axes to do some massive damage. also, as a barbarian, he takes half the damage from most attacks when he's in rage, and kal as a magic user has way less hit points. lol. teak sweep.

round 1 match 2: sal vs liv. sal would say "I want that twink obliterated" and then follow through with the promise. sorry liv lafflove, you wouldn't win this fight.

fittingly, reed and marjorie, my two favorites to win, got the by.

round 2 match 1: teak vs reed. little guys battle royale. i think reed could win if he played his cards right, but teak is much more aggressive. if teak could get himself into reed's space before reed could pull an erupting earth and do a lot of damage, teak takes it. if teak can avoid the erupting earth, teak takes it. i think I have to go with teak.

round 2 match 2: sal vs marj. marj take this one, though I'm sure nic would fight very hard to say otherwise. as a harpy, marj would know enough to blind him and then stay in the air, and while sal's ac is very high, he can't avoid the magic forever.

which leave marjorie and teak in the final, which does feel fitting. i don't think they would fight because they are family and they love each other <3 peace and love on planet earth, they go back to springsweet with all the riches of the quest and live happily ever after as a librarian and chaos carpenter.

#our dnd party is so so so good <3 #also. mel wouldn't fight no matter what so they're not included #also according to shell. they have wandered off into the woods to start a new life lol

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cursivebloodlines · 1 year ago

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Processing grief was never taught to him but he had lost friends on the job before, so he dealt with it the best that he good. But this… this was different. It was personal. It was because of Aaron. His fault. His stomach churned every time the reminder entered his mind - which it was doing continuously, on a neverending loop. On the outside, he looked seemingly okay. Definitely gutted, but he also felt like his movements were robotic. Automatic, almost mechanical. Numb. The pain was raw like a gaping, open wound but he willed it within himself to pull himself together. For Grayson’s sake. For Kaitlyn’s sake. He imagined what his father would tell him. How he would chastise him endlessly, ridicule him, yell at him. Make him feel like that little boy he once was who wanted nothing but his father’s approval. Or any member of his family, really. But never received. Instead, he would get nothing but demeaning comments. Hurtful words that would feel like knives, and a reminder to man up and Can’t you do anything for once in your fucking life and Stop whining about it and do something. And so on, and so on forth. No comforting words, no you did everything you could. No ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ None of that. They never were an empathetic, caring family filled with love. No matter how things may have seemed to outsiders. Either way, It would rub salt into wounds. To be ridiculed for feeling any semblance of human emotion for his deceased best friend. Being here, trying to help Kaitlyn to the best of his ability…In a way, she was all he had. As much as he was there to help her, there was a selfish part of him that was trying to help himself, too.

A weak smile traced his lips at Kait’s assurances. He could never overstay. The smile was barely there, and there was certainly no light in his eyes at this point. But it was still visible. A glimpse. Something, anything. “I - Thanks…thank you…” Quite often, Aaron would joke at how this place was like a second home to him. He probably spent more time here than at his own home, though he obviously knew when he overstayed his welcome - he wasn’t that bad. Yet still, her words touched him. Her reassurance calmed him, like the stroke of a warm touch. Another puncture wound to his heart as she spoke. She sounded so crestfallen, so fragile and delicate. As though she would break if she spoke any louder. As if he could knock her back with as something slight as a poke. Part of him wanted to tell her she needed to sleep, regardless. However, when she spoke. He just knew. He understood because Aaron knew he probably would never get another good night’s sleep again. Every time he so much as blinked, all he could see was Grayson. One way or another, they would succumb to it eventually due to sheer exhaustion. But he wasn’t going to remind her of that, nor put any pressure. Clearing his throat, he uttered gently, “You won’t be alone.” Even with clearing his throat, he sounded croaky. His words wavered, so he cleared his throat again, hoping to regain the ability to speak again. He promised he would stay as long as she needed him. And if she needed him here to be able to sleep, even for ten minutes, then surely it was better than nothing at all. Anything was something. “I’ll be right here; if that’s what you want. Whatever you need. I'm here, so you might as well use me however you want, while I'm around” he half-joked at the end, even cracking a slightly more visible but wobbly smile. (@huntrcssqueen)

There wasn't a single thing that Kaitlyn could do to bring Grayson back. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she even prayed, if she did, nothing would bring him back. The memories of him waking up and getting ready for work and her laying in bed watching him, getting a peck on the top of her head before he went out the door or her pulling him back to bed for an extra ten minutes just to get some more cuddles in with him. He had such a strong heart with the life he lived and she respected it so much and admired how strong he was. He was her everything and he was ripped away from her. Someone killed him in cold blood. She felt like she wanted to trade placed with him, have her life taken instead of his but she couldn't ask that either because of the death that loomed over him. She was just speechless. She wanted nothing more than her cheerful smile back on her face but it was like this dark cloud that loomed over her, raining down and soaking her to stop the happiness in her life. She wasn't meant to be happy with him gone it felt like.

All Aaron was doing was being someone whome she couldn't be right now. Supportive and there for someone but all the felt was the shattered heart. The sickness in her stomach, the tightness in her throat that made it hard to speak, breathe and even swallow. Nothing felt easy right now. She didn't mean to over react but it was something that Grayson would do to try and reason with her when she was being unrealistic. All he had to do was say her name. Just her name and she would calm down but not now. Now it was like her own name was a dagger waiting to execute herself. The only thing that was keeping her more at ease was Aaron. His presence was keeping her at a, if possible, more calm state. Someone of an anchor in the moment. Had he not be here and she felt like she might be lost. Might throw things around, bust into complete tears. She could envision it now. Throwing her photos to the ground, breaking them, shattering them into the smallest shards that equalled the amount that her heart felt before laying on the ground in the mess and falling asleep there. She had no idea where she was to sleep because she couldn't in her bed. There wasn't going to be a way that she could with how empty it would feel. ❝ You're not... you could never overstay. ❞ She whispered in a quiet voice, quiet but loud enough for him to hear. He wasn't overstaying. This place was as much his as it was hers with how often that he would come over here. She got use to his company and could laugh, joke about with him. Things were easy. It was like she could read his mind at times when he came into the room she was in. The two could share a laugh but it was like the laughter disappeared. Their joy slipped away from their fingertips. ❝ I can't... ❞ She stated as she wiped her wet face from the tears. ❝ I can' t sleep alone. ❞ @cursivebloodlines

#oh these poor darlings!!!#sorry if this sucks i'm v rusty aaaaaaa <3 #and sorry for ze wait hehe #muse ;; aaron carter #aaron carter ;; interactions #huntrcssqueen #huntrcssqueen ;; kaitlyn #aaron x kaitlyn #aaron x kaitlyn ;; 001

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

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bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.

part 1 — part 2 (soon)

a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.

words. 1.533.

warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.

join my tag list.

necklace;

It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.

“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.

“You better”.

Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.

“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”

“I won't... How could I, Buck?”

eclipsed;

Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.

His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.

“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.

sunset;

After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.

Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.

“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.

clingy;

You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.

“Stop”. You heard from behind.

“Uh?”

“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”

“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.

“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.

“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.

“Can't see the problem there”.

You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.

“What?”

“Tru—”.

“Truth”.

“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.

Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.

His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”

But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.

safe;

Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.

Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.

“Feel better?”

“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.

“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.

stay;

You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.

“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.

Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.

“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.

“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.

He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.

notebook;

You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.

“What?”

“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.

“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.

Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.

“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.

marshmallow;

“Truth or dare?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.

“Dare”. He answered firmly.

“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.

The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.

“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.

When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.

“C'mon, Bu—”.

You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.

“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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tag list: @whatrambles @phoenixhalliwell @homesicam @marvel-diaries @amelia-song-pond @heartbeats-wildly @met4no1a @weenersoldierr @petlaufeyson @sillygamingartghost @wildflowergubler @isnt-it-loverly @zealouspursecowboydeputy @rvgrsbrns @artisancowbells @plagooey @tinylumpiaa @hemsbucky @bxmaaa @quxxnxfhxll @soldierstucky @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @hateinthemorning @asemistablehundredyearoldman @purpleelfwizard @twinerd14 @nikkixostan @stolenxkissess @wintersfilm @whoreforsamwilson @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm @baconmuffins1216 @28cnn @hxlyhoax @lieswithoutfairytales @angrybirdxx @clownerlyluv @kait-is-always-late @marvel-ousnesss @natashadeservedbetter @ebxny27 @fanofalltheficsx @spider-man-lover @masterlists101 @lewd-alien @warm-sensations @stealapizzamyheart @talk-on-the-street @theresnoplatypus @need-serious-help

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader

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saeransimp · 4 years ago

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I forgot to send this before but how do you feel about some Little Spoon SE Saeran content?

You know the absolute direct way to my heart, Kait. I actually ended up writing this as his first time experiencing what it’s like, so there’s lots of feelings. And if you thought you were only getting fluff with this...think again :)

(1059 words)

Saeran is, by no means, a stranger to night terrors. Haunted by his demons and the trauma so deeply rooted inside his still mending heart, he’ll frequently wake up thrashing and screaming- still in a haze, he lashes out in a panic at anything in front of him that he can reach until he’s able to process reality and ground himself.

Because of this, when he can tell that he’s going to have a rough night, he has to send you to sleep in your own room within the bunker. He despises doing this to you, and is overwhelmed with a guilt he cannot find the words to express. Saeran wants to be able to hold onto you without such an intense fear of hurting you after a nightmare- he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. He will not become that monster. He cannot become that monster. And if that means sending you away to ensure your safety, he’ll do it, even as desperately as he wishes he didn’t need to.

Oftentimes, he needs to feel your warmth afterwards. Being forced to relive those memories through his nightmares makes him sick, and the only things that can soothe him are the sounds of your heartbeat, your breathing, affirming that you’re real and that he’s not being tormented back in that hell. He doesn’t like to wake you up, despite your reassurances, so he’ll sneak in as quietly as possible and curl into your arms, head pressed against your chest as he focuses on only you in order to stabilize himself until you awaken on your own.

Tonight...well, he didn’t know what it would be like. He was torn between wanting you to stay, as it had been days since you’d last been together with him to sleep, and asking you to go to your room just to make absolutely sure you would be protected from his destructive tendencies just in case he happened to have another night terror.

It was late, and he had been internally debating on this for awhile. Like always, though, you seemed to be able to read him like a book, without a need for him to actually say anything.

“Hey,” your soft voice gently pulled him from his thoughts. “I was wondering if we could try something?” It came out sounding like more of a question, as your requests usually did- you were always taking his feelings into consideration and giving him a choice in the smallest ways possible, one of the many things he had come to love you for.

His entire life up to this point, he was never given the freedom to choose for himself, it was always other people choosing for him...he never had a say in anything, not one that mattered...but with you, he never felt forced to do anything he was uncomfortable with. He had a choice. And he trusted you to always respect his decision. It was still something he was unfamiliar with, still learning to get used to. But he cherished it.

Saeran tilted his head questioningly, then watched as you stuffed yourself under his covers and lightly patted the space in front of you as if to make sure he knew it wasn’t a command, but an open invitation if it was something he would be okay with.

He hesitated, but ultimately couldn’t resist the hopeful look in your eyes. So, with a sigh, he got up from his seat and took his place next to you, wondering if you could tell just how tense from uncertainty that he was.

Slowly, you reached up and brushed his bangs back from his eyes, searching them, as if to track that what you were doing was okay. When he gave a slight nod, you moved to press a soft kiss to his forehead with a smile.

“Turn around?”

When he realized what you meant, Saeran’s features contorted in distaste. Him? Be the little spoon? Why? He didn’t voice any of these questions, but it was evident he was leaning heavily against the idea.

“If you don’t like it I promise you can move back. I won’t be upset, okay?”

And he knew you meant it. You were never upset with him for the boundaries he had to have.

But, still, he needed to contemplate for a few moments until he eventually relented. But he couldn’t help but click his tongue in dissatisfaction as he rolled over.

Saeran felt your arm sliding around him, your fingers tenderly intertwining with his, then your face nuzzling against the back of his neck. He was thankful you weren’t able to see the blush that unwantedly burned at his cheeks.

Before he could say anything, you were mumbling soothingly against his skin.

“I’ve been thinking...when you have bad nights but you still want me here with you, we can stay like this and it’s safe. If you start kicking or even hitting at what’s in front of you...I’m not there. If you need to pull yourself out, all you have to do is slide forward without any struggle to pull your own arms away from me. And when you need me, instead of sneaking into my room, I’m already right here for you to come back to when you’re ready. We can be together and keep both of each other safe.”

He didn’t know at what point it had happened, but Saeran had melted against you, all traces of his apprehension seemingly gone. Tears were stinging his eyes, threatening to spill over. You always put so much thought and care into him down to the littlest things, and he couldn’t understand what made him so special- but god if it didn’t feel good to be.

“Plus it’s cute ‘cause it’s like I’m your little backpack!” You giggled.

Sarean found himself smiling at that.

“So...Are you okay staying like this?”

Your answer came with him squeezing your hand.

He felt more than okay, even if he couldn’t voice it. Content...warm...protected...happy...loved...safe. It was overwhelming, but...in a good way.

Saeran closed his eyes, his fears of hurting you slowly washing away as he fell asleep.

Little did you know that it would be something he’d ask for far more often than just when he might have a bad night.

#Saeran Choi #Saeran x reader #Saeran Choi x reader #SE Saeran #Mystic Messenger #mysme #Choi Saeran

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marshmallowprotection · 6 months ago

Note

Hey Kait so um i have a one shot request....and yeah its yoosung centric ofc

Can i have a fic where MC has an emotional outburst over his self sacrificial shit. Cuz idk i dont like the idea of seeing my partner constantly trying to prove himself to be "worthy of love" and not recognising how much MC values him as well.

The context could be any situation where he had gotten badly hurt cuz of his stupid hero complex. It could be like in the aftermath of Bad Ending 3 where he got badly hurt someway or somewhere after the good/normal ending. This guy really makes me insane

Yoosung never expected to see tears of frustration in your eyes when he saw you again. He never expected to you see again, actually, but it stung all the same to see you cry over him. You were happy he was in one piece, of course, but after you embraced him and wept at how it pained you to not know whether he was dead or alive, you cried at his choices that caused his capture to happen to begin with.

You cried at his decision to throw his life away.

He didn't think about his well-being. He didn't think about what his life was worth. He didn't think about anything that mattered at that moment when there were a hundred other choices that could've been made. He sacrificed his life and safety to not only let Seven get away from that place, but in the name of protecting the RFA members and most of all, you. He didn't think about trying to come up with another plan.

He decided his only choice was to give up his life in the name of what he believed to be the greater good. Even though you told him that he could make others choices, that he could do something different for himself, and that he could've listened to the others, not just Seven in what to do next. You were thankful that he was willing to take a risk to protect you, but at every corner, you sobbed, at every corner he tried to something that would cause him to lose his life or lose everything in the process.

Yoosung didn't have to lose his life to have your love or your respect. You were proud of him as he was. You understood that he wanted to help Seven protect you, but it didn't change the fact that he didn't... he didn't think! He jumped to the most extreme answer no matter the outcome because he wanted to prove himself to be capable as your hero!

As someone who could take care of you just as much as anyone else could. But, you didn't need a hero!

You needed Yoosung!

"I didn't need you to throw your life away for me, Yoosung!"

"He would've hurt you if I didn't do something!"

"You didn't have to try to die to protect me, Yoosung! There are other choices, there are always other choices you can make! Do you think I wanted you to get hurt because of me? I didn't! I never wanted you to risk your life for me to begin with! You don't need to be superhero for me! You don't have to be strong the way you think you do!" You wept, arms trembling at your sides as you held yourself tightly.

"I want you to be with me so we can stand side by side! I want to be strong with you! I don't want to walk behind you while you take any risks that come our way! I am so happy to know you love me, that it doesn't matter what comes your way, you'll always try to be there to save me, but I don't love that your first reaction is to throw your life away! It's like you want to die, Yoosung! You didn't think about what came next! You thought about what a hero would do!"

His face fell as he stared at his lap and bandaged hands that seemed to mock him now. He was only trapped at Mint Eye for a matter of... a two weeks but those two weeks had been hell. It felt like the pain the man gave him would never end... but he thought... he thought that a villain would make good on their promise to not go further than that deal. But, he thought wrong.

Because, if he was a man of his word, Seven wouldn't have had to have saved you in the nick of time from the apartment before it...

It crumbled.

What good was a sacrifice if it was never a sacrifice to begin with?

"But... if Seven stayed..."

"Seven has combat training," you added. "He knows how to fight bad guys! If you would've distracted that guy long enough, he could have done something so you wouldn't have had to even consider what you did! What if, what if, what if! You didn't even consider what if! You did what you thought would make you a hero! You are my hero, because you were willing to face danger for me, but... you didn't have to try to die to be my hero! Being a hero doesn't mean you throw your life out the window every time danger calls!"

...It didn't?

But, how could he be worthy of you if he didn't prove it?

"But, I... I wanted to be worthy... of..."

That was when you spun away from him and he knew he messed up. Even if you were together again, it didn't deny the pain he caused you that day. He never wanted to hurt you. "You don't have to do anything to be worthy of love, Yoosung. Love doesn't come with a stipulation. You are worthy... I just don't know why you won't believe me. I need... I need some air. I'll be outside."

He was left alone.

Alone to muse the weight of his choices.

As grateful as you were, as happy as you were, his choice hurt you and him in the process.

#crybabysunflower #ask #mod kait #mystic messenger #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #yoosung kim #kim yoosung

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dear-yandere · 4 years ago

Text

[ terror eyes ]

yandere! risotto nero x reader. commissioned.

› word count: 2.8k. › warnings: consensual kidnapping, delusions, dependency, implied familial abuse, graphic gore and murder. › art credit: 39805470.

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.” — Kait Rokowski, Alight

he didn’t expect to feel this way. he didn’t expect to lose himself in you.

it’s the way your eyes shine when you look at him — the fleeting glances, the lasting smiles. it’s the way you say his name — the unexpected tenderness, the excitement on your face. it’s the way his heart beats wildly in your presence, the way he’s reminded of its existence. it’s the way you remind him that he is human, not the monster he’s made himself out to be.

when he looks in the mirror, he sees a void, a blackness so thick he’s afraid it will devour him whole. of all the things risotto nero does not fear, he fears himself most. and yet, when you look at him, there is hope, light, the very opposite of what stares at him from the mirror. you look at him like there’s something worth adoring, something worth loving — emotions he never imagined could be directed at him. it’s a foreign feeling, something he hasn’t felt in years. nothing short of a nuisance at first, the way your gaze would pin to him like a fan adores their idol or a disciple worships their god. being the source of admiration is nothing new to him — many a man look up to him with a mixture of awe and fear, some groveling for mercy and others joining his cause. risotto nero is accustomed to being watched, to having eyes on him from every angle and direction: from diavolo, who both trusts and distrusts him; from the capos, who look at him with awe and scorn, and from his own underlings, who both fear and revere him. risotto nero is a force to be reckoned with, and yet, the way you look at him like a lover is enough to unravel his layers, as if there was nothing to fear at all.

it’s hard not to feel naked around you, to not feel vulnerable, as if you’ll figure out his deepest desires and worst fears if you so much as tried. vulnerability is not to be shown in his line of work, even you understand this much. despite the way you look at him with such ardor, you keep distance. whether it’s out of fear or respect, he doesn’t want to find out. it’s better this way, to keep you at arm’s length; you aren’t supposed to be alive. that thought rings true in the recesses of his mind, a reminder of who you truly are, who he truly is, of how this relationship was fated for end from the start. but even he isn’t immune to selfishness and desire.

“welcome home!”

your voice holds the universe together, its stars and planets localized entirely to the house you both call home. there isn’t this urgent need to be careful around him — to feign happiness, to pretend your heart hasn’t been shattered so many times you’ve lost track of its pieces. there isn’t this urgent need to put your guard up around him, ensure it’s airtight, ensure it can take another beating. there isn’t this urgent need to be afraid around him. not anymore.

you don’t wait for a response, you never do. he never speaks without purpose, and you’ve grown accustomed to the way he wears silence like a mask. bounding up to him with a skip in your step, you attach yourself to his arm and lead him to the living room, the same conversation on your tongue as yesterday, the day before, and every day before that.

“how was work?”

a trivial question, considering his occupation; work is never good nor bad, because to him, taking life is neither good nor bad. it’s normal, it comes as easy as breathing. but for a moment, he feels the normality of it all wash over him. the catharsis that an ordinary life brings, one where he is married to a loving spouse, someone who greets him when he arrives home, someone who dotes on him at his highest and comforts him at his lowest. for a moment, you are his home, and for a moment, this is normal.

but moments are fleeting.

his heartbeat reminds him that this is real, that you are real. but there’s an ache in his chest and a longing for something else — for something more. he wonders if this happiness isn’t enough for him. if he was good, would he be capable of love? if he was good, would he be worthy of love? of your love?

how foolish... murderers aren’t meant to dream.

“i was so lonely without you, even the little metallica got bored...” you rub the smooth head of the stand, a little part of his soul perched atop your shoulder. a means to keep track of you, but you insist on treating it like a friend. as much as he pretends to find disinterest in your affection, he feels your touch vicariously through the little being and silently revels in it. “you didn’t get hurt did you?” your eyes scan his chest, searching for any visible wounds. when you find none, you look up at him with a smile that reaches your eyes. “i know you have a high pain tolerance, but i know basic first aid, and...”, you hesitate, heat dusting your cheeks like stardust. should you finish that thought? it’d not like he particularly cares for what you have to say, or so he lets on.

“and i want to be of use to you.”

he stares at you, a sense of affection flickering through his gaze. his heartbeat quickens and he searches your eyes only to find that same brilliance, that same hope worn proudly like armor. a reminder that you are blameless in all this. there are still things you don’t understand, things you couldn’t possibly understand. the true nature of his job, the truth about his past, all parts of him remain shrouded with uncertainty, parts of him that will forever remain a mystery. never does he speak of the thoughts weighing him down. you wish you could understand and he wishes he could let you, but his heart does not allow it. you are better off in the light.

“aha, forget i said anything. i was just joking...” your laugh is sardonic and forced, and yet it is still music to his ears. “but rely on me if you need anything, okay?” the question is rhetorical, you don’t expect an answer nor do you expect him to ever need your help, but you offer yourself on a silver platter nonetheless. it’s the least you can do for the man who saved you.

risotto laughs through his nose and corrects that earlier thought: you may belong in the light, but you’re better off here. he tells himself that anyways, convinces himself that what he did was for purely for your benefit. and even then that sentiment feels foreign, his behavior like a man possessed. who is he? that day he saw you, that day he killed your parents, who did he become? he’s heard that some change when they meet a lover, that they become someone else. a sick yet romantic concept, to change into someone else entirely as easily as changing clothes, as if love is enough to change the depravity of humans. tragedy and hatred was never foreign to him, the better part of his adult years spent wallowing in contempt and resentment; a shameful part of him, one he looks back on with disgust. how he used to wish that were true, that the scum who killed his cousin would seek forgiveness and repentance. but life is no fairy tale. and yet, when he met you, he became someone different, someone better.

and it still isn’t enough to make him worthy of you.

you are not red. when he met you, you were pure, untouched, unsullied by the red that surrounded you. unaffected by the red of your parents who hurt you, by the red of your family who let them, by the red of your friends who left you. despite the sea of blood you used to live in, you were anything but. anything but that wretched color, anything but the color of blood. you were his realization, his epiphany: his world has been dyed red for so long, he’d forgotten the beauty underneath.

you make him feel alive again.

“you’ll tell me if something’s wrong, won’t you?” there is no need for words, but you speak in hopes of giving assurance. you want to be his shoulder to lean on and to cry in, even if that offer will forever go untouched. but he can’t. as much as he longs for that companionship, to fall apart in your arms and let you the collect the pieces, he can’t. he doesn’t know what he needs. he doesn’t even know if he needs you.

but you need him. “if it concerns you.” his reply is blithe, far too scathing a response for a lover’s concern, but you show no signs of quarrel. this isn’t the first time he’s brushed you off, especially when this false game of house has become commonplace: go to work, come home, be greeted a woman who’d happily be your wife if you asked, rinse and repeat. “i can take care of myself.”

you nod like you always do, but he knows you’ll fuss over him come his return from work tomorrow. a familiar smile is directed at him — a display which still feels foreign — and the gentle musings of a woman smitten with love follow as you guide him to the couch with the promise of dinner being ready soon. as he seats himself, the worries of the day roll from his shoulders like rain. how you fell for a man like him is beyond his understanding. even if he did save you from a far worse fate, from a family who would sooner be your undoing than the catalyst of your betterment, he is undeserving of your love. what he sees when he looks at you is hope and misguided truth — you’re too bright for him.

“we’re running low on groceries,” you call out from the kitchen, broaching the topic carefully, scared he’ll think you’re eager to leave. in this situation, you suppose most would assume that much, but you... you want to stay here. you want to be with him, to be around him more, not just when he returns from work. you want him, and you know he wants you too if only he’d let himself indulge. “i... i know you usually pick it up yourself, but i want to come with you,” you try to explain, confidence melting away like ice under his gaze. will your words get through to him? “n...next time, i mean, if that’s okay...” you meekly clarify.

if you didn’t admire him, the way he looks at you now would make your legs buckle. his eyes have never scared you, not like he expected they would, but there’s a certain terror they inflict when he looks at you as a nuisance rather than a lover. piercing red on black, the eyes of a demon rather than a human. and yet, he is your guardian angel, the only man who’s ever saved you. you know you’re safe with him, he wouldn’t hurt you like they did. the thought has flitted through your mind from time to time, memories of your abusers’ bodies mangled and torn apart from the inside. explanations don’t come easy to risotto, so you’re still left in the dark about your own parent’s deaths. not that you cared much for their passing, you were more concerned with the nature in which they died. tiny slits had opened on all corners of their body, as if they’d been instantaneously cut from the inside. you still remember their screams, guttural like the dying wails of animals, infused with the intense smell of iron permeating the air. you want to learn more about him, to understand him, and this... this power is the best place to start. why did he save you? why does he keep you? will there come a day where he leaves you too?

“it’s dangerous.” his eyes peel away from yours and you allow yourself the luxury of relaxation. “passione is still looking for you. your parents had an outstanding debt that your disappearance alone isn’t enough to tide over.” he notices the way your shoulders slump in his peripherals. if his lies weren’t for your own good, he might have felt some semblance of regret. “things will settle down, it’s pointless to keep asking,” he adds with a tone of finality. he’s never been one for consolation, so he doesn’t dwell on the sadness that permeates your being. you’re safer here, even you realize that; you don’t put up a fight.

“i see...” you turn away, hands busying themselves with a nearly-finished dinner. the smell of a home-cooked meal imbues the air with warmth, a reminder of his childhood. how long has it been since he’s enjoyed the presence of another, a meal made by someone who loves him? even when he treats you harshly, keeping you in the dark about your own safety and the reality of your situation, it’s never held against him. the love you pour into his meals is palpable, carrying a certain sweetness even where the dish has no place for it. if he’s being honest, it’s... addicting. to feel normal again.

his earlier reasoning isn’t a complete lie, more of a... half-truth. upon learning of your home life, of how much abuse you endured at the negligent hands of parents who refuse to let you leave, he’d intended to kill you too. put you out of your misery. leaving the children of hits alive is problematic for a number of reasons, the biggest being that grief drives people to extremes. risotto has always been keen on finishing jobs thoroughly, but even he could see that something inside of you was... broken. the way you watched your parents being ripped apart, mauled by something you can’t see nor begin to comprehend... amidst the guts and gore, he wasn’t able to place an emotion to it at the time, only that it was visceral, animalistic. realization only came later: the look on your face was one of pure happiness. surrounded by the blood of your own family, you were happy, relieved, hopeful. to see them finally suffer as much as you had, to see them finally gone from your life; you were so much like him, and yet so far removed all the same.

regret is lost on him. he doesn’t regret ‘saving’ you. your parents had it coming; their presence in the underbelly of naples had become troublesome for passione, the pair even going so far as to try to escape their debt to the mafia. a last-ditch attempt akin to the behavior of animals who’ve been cornered, risotto almost felt pity upon learning of your existence. the onus of repaying their debt would have fallen on you, a tactic even he didn’t quite agree with. but passione was never known for their lenience; this was the life risotto had chosen, after all. a life of crime and of murder, a life befitting a monstrous stand like his. at some point, he’d lost all sense of sympathy for his hits, their faces replaced by that of the drunk driver who killed his cousin. that scum’s sentence was far too lenient, and risotto has seen first-hand the trouble leniency can bring.

but he felt sorry for you. coming to terms with the sudden onslaught of pity was nauseating enough, but he’d offered to hide you until things settle down. the don was enraged that you’d ‘escaped’ before risotto could finish you off, but it was easy enough to let it go: you’ll ‘turn up’ eventually, and the debt your parents owed is the back burner for the time being. and, whether or not you preferred to die at the hands of your savior, you still followed him without quarrel when he took you. under normal circumstances, perhaps it’s better to say he kidnapped you, but you’ve always insisted that he did just the opposite; he freed you. for the first time in his life, he saved someone. where he couldn't save his cousin, he could save you.

“i’ll stop asking, but... maybe we can go together one day?” you pipe up, already setting a fresh plate of food before him. a model housewife, if this had been under normal circumstances. despite your attempts to hide any sadness, you wear a blissful expression when you glance up at him, head curiously tilted with the weight of your admiration for him. when you speak, he feels your love for him in every word; when you speak, he feels like he can love again. “as a couple,” you suggest, your smile genuine.

no, he doesn’t deserve you. not in the slightest.

“...i’d like that.”

but maybe one day he will.

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misssophiachase · 4 years ago

Text

You Make My Heart Smile

So, happy (belated) birthday, Tina @tnapki Your edits make me smile (pardon the pun) and I wanted to thank you for that and everything you bring to the fandom.

I based it on your GORGEOUS EDIT

I also made it about food cause it’s SO you. On AO3 HERE

Also thanks to the gorgeous Kait @an-awesome-wavve for being amazing and my part brainstorm, part beta, part researcher and part undercover partner in crime.

Renowned Chef Klaus Mikaelson has a bad reputation until he meets food blogger Caroline Forbes and has no idea how to handle her or the unfamiliar feelings she evokes, especially that annoying ability to make him smile.

3 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 3pm

“I’m not going to do some stupid interview, you know I have other, more important things to do, right?”

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do interviews. He didn’t need to because his accomplishments spoke for themselves. He hadn’t slogged away in kitchens since he was twelve and worked his way through culinary school and some of the best restaurants to waste his time.

Being a world-renowned chef owning not one, but four, three-Michelin-starred restaurants across the globe meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

But yet here she was running his life.

Still.

“Like yell at me? I mean, you’ve been doing that since we were little so I guess it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. ”

“I knew I should have never mixed business and family,” he snapped. “You always throw our childhood back in my face as an excuse to insult my life choices.”

“Because it’s too easy not to,” she pouted, flicking a stray, blonde lock over her shoulder. “And, while I am unfortunately related to your sorry ass, I am also your publicist and this interview is good for your career.”

“I don’t need publicity.”

“Correction, you do need publicity,” she argued, her fork now attacking the very veal he’d cooked with more fervour than needed.

“Easy on the product, little sister,” Klaus growled, his protectiveness for his art on full display.

“Oh, silly me I thought it was already dead,” she shot back, tartly. “And before you interrupted, I was going to say that, yes maybe you shouldn’t need publicity given your career achievements, but that was before you dropped an entree on the food critic’s lap from the Chicago Tribune, fired your sous chef in front of the entire restaurant and insulted Gordon Ramsey on national television.”

“Ramsey is a sell out, I stand by my comments,” he muttered. “The critic had it coming and, now you mention it, so too did that sorry excuse for a sous chef.”

“You realise people call you the angry chef, right?”

“Better than the naked chef I suppose.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Klaus wasn’t in the business for gimmicks or to secure his own cooking program. He took his food seriously and there was nothing wrong with that.

“At least people like Jamie Oliver,” she replied, arching her eyebrows knowingly. “Anyway, there’s no point in arguing because she’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Please tell me you didn’t just schedule an interview without my permission?”

1717 N. Halsted St, 3:10pm

“What’s with the expression of impending doom, Care Bear?” He asked, lugging his camera equipment as they walked up the block toward Alinea.

“What have I told you about calling me that?”

“Not to do it but it’s too fun not to, Care Bear.” Given his general maturity level, Caroline decided it was a losing battle and she had more important things on her mind.

“Anyway, it’s not doom,” she muttered. “It’s just the overwhelming desire not to do this interview but given I don’t want to get fired and also pay my rent, there’s no other option.”

“Is someone afraid of the angry chef?”

“Oh, puh-lease, I’m not afraid. Although, I might not be able to bite my tongue if he decides to insult me like he did Gordon Ramsey.”

Caroline wasn’t one to judge but his indiscretions were well-known and well-documented. Although, chefs with egos weren’t an entirely new phenomenon to the industry or to Caroline given interviewing them was her job.

“You and I both know Ramsey deserved that dressing down, if anything Mikaelson earned my respect that day.” Caroline couldn’t argue with that.

Although this one was another kind of beast.

The effortlessly attractive kind.

For Caroline, this was an unsettling prospect. Until she reminded herself why she was here in the first place.

Caroline loved food. Sometimes, she thought, more than life itself.

So, when she became a food blogger after graduating with a journalism degree from Northwestern, it wasn’t a surprise. She was currently the senior blogger at popular food blog Delicious.

“You love food and writing about it,” Was Enzo reading her mind? “How about instead of focusing on the negative, remember that this will be your biggest interview yet. Think about all of the exposure this will garner.”

The upper echelons of Delicious had decided that an interview with Klaus Mikaelson would be a big scoop. Caroline was all for interviewing chefs about their food and the passion behind it but she knew her editor wanted something less about his craft and more about his bad boy reputation.

“Yes, but I want to write about food, not produce tabloid fodder.”

“Just think, once you do this then maybe you’ll have enough of a following to start your own blog and write what you want and not what someone tells you to do.”

“Mmmm, you do have a point.”

“Of course I do because Enzo knows everything. Also, take me with you because you’d be lost without me, sweetcheeks.”

“Third person, huh? That ego of yours knows no bounds, Lorenzo.”

“You know it, Care Bear,” he joked, flashing his most dazzling smile. “Well, looks like we’re here.”

“Looks like it,” she murmured, noting the intimidating sign overhead and wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “Here goes nothing.”

3:15pm

“Caroline Forbes?”

“You must be Rebekah and this is my photographer Lorenzo St John.”

Klaus, who’d been throwing a temper tantrum not one minute ago, found himself looking up into the blue eyes of one Caroline Forbes. Suddenly, all of the white noise of the moment fell away and it was just the two of them in the room together and the blonde in question was looking at him expectantly.

It was paralysing.

But good paralysing he decided.

“Nik?” Rebekah questioned. Now they were both looking at him. Had he zoned out and not realised it? Well, if so, this was all kinds of embarrassing. “Caroline is the senior blogger for Delicious and she’s here for that interview, you know the one we talked about earlier?”

Yeah, ten minutes earlier, he thought to himself doing everything he could not to bite back in front of the new arrival.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Mikaelson, I have to say I’m a big fan of your…”

“Look, it’s not going to be possible, I have to prep for dinner service,” he lied, although regretted it immediately when he noticed her expression. Klaus wasn’t used to being nice, it wasn’t in his DNA and usually it didn’t bother him.

Until now.

Klaus decided to blame it on the foreign feelings she was causing. As soon as he got some distance between them it would be fine, especially that vanilla scent he couldn’t ignore given it was infiltrating his first line of defence.

Klaus liked women, in fact he slept with many when his busy schedule permitted, but that was sex and nothing else. Just the way he liked it, easy and unemotional.

“Why don’t we multitask then? I’m happy to help. ” Her voice was light and melodic. Klaus was hoping it wasn’t going to sound so enticing. He also wasn’t expecting that response. “I worked in a restaurant kitchen for years, I can do dishes, polish cutlery and peel a mean potato and an onion, well almost without crying.”

Why was he buoyed by that ridiculous statement and increasingly trying not to flash her a goofy smile?

Klaus didn’t smile. He just didn’t. Ever.

This wasn’t how he saw his day going at all. He was going to kill Rebekah. Before he could reply, the current subject of his ire spoke.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” she grinned. “How about Lorenzo and I make ourselves scarce then?”

“It’s actually Enzo, darling, you sound a bit too much like my mother and my oppressive boss Care Bear here.”

Klaus hadn’t even realised there was someone else in the room up until this point but it was clear Caroline wasn’t too impressed by his nickname or the oppressive part. Maybe they had more in common than he thought?

Care Bear. Klaus thought it was adorable. Then he could feel it, that idiotic urge to smile again.

Before he could object again, Rebekah had made a quick exit with the photographer and she was just standing there. Klaus could feel the awkward tension between them and knowing he’d caused it wasn’t helping matters. But he didn’t know any other way to act.

Then the words he’d struggled with just tumbled out.

“How do you feel about fish?”

Not the most suave topic or question but this was his ‘uncomfort’ zone.

“Depends on the context.”

“The context?”

“I mean, if you think I can clean, fillet and debone a fish, you’ve obviously overestimated my cooking talents.”

Klaus had to practically eat the smile that was threatening to appear. Again.

“Everyone has to start somewhere and get their hands a bit dirty, otherwise what’s the point?” He advised. “But, if you don’t want to then…”

“Oh, I never back away from a challenge, chef,” she promised.

Again, the pesky smile was hovering just beneath the surface.

Leading her towards the kitchen, Klaus told himself that preparing a fish was definitely going to keep his emotions at bay and also block out that perfume which was throwing him off balance.

4:45pm

“Why do I feel like this was a ploy to distract me from my interview?” Caroline asked, dipping the fish into egg wash and then flour as instructed by her cooking mentor for the day..

This was not how she saw her day going. It was surreal to say the least. This guy was supposed to be an ogre but Caroline was realising he was something else entirely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back. “But you filleted that fish like a professional, maybe you’ve missed your true calling?”

“I suppose I had a semi-good teacher,” she admitted wryly.

“Wow, tell me what you really think, Forbes.”

Caroline was trying not to to get too caught up in the moment but Klaus Mikaelson had challenged every judgment she’d ever harboured about the temperamental chef. He’d been unusually kind and patient.

The one thing she’d noticed was that his overall demeanour didn’t match his expression.

He didn’t smile.

Not once.

A few times, Caroline could swear it was close or maybe she was just imagining it?

“So, why do you like food?” It was a question she wasn’t expecting. Especially seeing as she was the interviewer and him her subject.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?” He was silent for a moment, almost like he was contemplating it. “But I get the impression you don’t like that question much?”

“I’d much prefer to hear your story first, call it a warm-up.” Clearly he was nervous and Caroline was happy to oblige if it helped.

“My grandmother,” she smiled knowingly, visions of her nana filling her head. “When I was younger I’d go to her house most weekends and we’d cook together. She could make anything and everything. She died last year and it’s been tough without her but at least I still have those memories.”

Caroline didn’t mean to get personal, especially with the so-called “angry chef” but for some reason she felt nothing but comfort in his presence, even if he didn’t smile.

“What was her specialty?”

“Banana cream cheesecake,” she smiled, the taste of it rushing back in all its delicious glory.

“Hard to beat,” he murmured. “Have you ever eaten a Bananas Foster? My restaurant in New Orleans does a modern version over flame. According to my maitre’d there’ve apparently been a few proposals over dessert.”

“Over your dessert?”

“Someone sounds dubious. Let’s just say it’s fireworks but without the danger. Well, unless the tablecloth is accidentally set on fire but the fire department down there are pretty good first responders I understand.”

“I just didn’t take you for the romantic dessert type.”

“I suppose there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me then.”

“So, why do you like food then?”

“Well, of course I like food, I wouldn’t be a chef otherwise,” he shared, moving swiftly in behind her and taking the fillets from her hand and placing them in the hot pan, Caroline was trying not to react to his touch or that welcoming and heady mixture of sandalwood, spices and soap . “But one interview isn’t going to even begin to answer that question.”

He had a point and Caroline knew it. How could you sum up what food meant to you in one interview?

“So, what exactly are you trying to say? I do have a deadline to meet.”

“How about we schedule a follow-up interview tomorrow morning? Dinner service is imminent and if you stay I’m going to have to ask you to do more than fillet a fish. My pastry chef Lucien is also very needy, requires constant gratification, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

“Not gonna lie I’m intrigued and by that I’m talking about Lucien. Did you insult his choux pastry or something?”

“Not if I want my patrons to eat dessert this century. But, if you insist on staying, there’s a whole pile of onions there with your name on it and we can call it even.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He raised his left eyebrow by way of response. Caroline was trying to ignore just how good he looked, even if there was no smile forthcoming.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Tomorrow morning but that’s it otherwise my editor might fire me.”

“Great, let’s make it 10:30, you can poach an egg, right? And I also expect extra crispy bacon.”

Caroline knew she was possibly in trouble and not because he was tasking her with cooking. Enzo would also parrot that particular concern but she couldn’t help herself.

Today was probably the best day she’d had in a long time and she didn’t want it to end. She told herself that she’d return tomorrow and get her interview, that’s all she wanted from him, right?

4 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 11am

Klaus Mikaelson was in uncharted territory.

That’s what scared him the most.

Caroline Forbes was seated across from him at his best, window table in jeans and a cream sweater, her plate empty and a very full but satisfied look on her face. Klaus decided to add that to his favourite expressions file. It was fast filling up and he’d only known her for 20 hours.

He wasn’t this guy.

At all.

But she’d consumed his thoughts since their first meeting and all night through dinner service and beyond. He’d barely slept, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been looking forward to seeing her as soon as she left.

The only problem? Not smiling because it was that difficult when she was in his presence. He had his reasons of course.

“So, why do you love food? And no arguments given I poached a mean egg and also let you have a reprieve yesterday.”

“The bacon could use some work, just saying.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to cook itself yourself, Mikaelson. Are you always such a critic? Last time I checked that was my job. Also enough with the distractions. So?”

“My mum,” he admitted quietly, even if it took a minute or so to verbalise. For some reason her opening up about her grandmother had filled him with courage. He didn’t do feelings or talk about them for that matter. “She cooked with me practically from birth until she got too sick last year.”

Those last words wobbled, it was unfortunate as it was expected. He’d struggled for a long time and losing his mother had been difficult.

“What was her specialty?” Klaus recognised the question he’d asked himself yesterday, but the fact her hand squeezed his at the same time filled him with the confidence and warmth he needed.

“Rosemary braised lamb shanks, it was her favourite protein. I’ve tried to pay homage on all my menus since.”

‘So, that explains the Saddle of Elysian Fields Farm Lamb with Babaganoush, Romano Beans and Harissa Jus on your menu then?”

“You’ve done your homework clearly?”

“That and the fact it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, and I have to say it’s really nice.”

Klaus didn’t even realise he’d let it slip but suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t want to hide it, not with her.

“She used to tell me to smile all the time because I was too serious, you could say it’s something I’ve battled with ever since she passed.”

“All the more reason to smile, even just to introduce those dimples to the general public. Has anyone ever told you they should come with a warning?”

“No, but more than happy to discuss further.”

“If only, but I have to get going.” Klaus felt almost deflated that she was leaving as quickly as she’d arrived. Maybe he’d shared too much. “Deadlines and all that. But if you could just consult the email I sent confirming the details of our interview that would be great.”

Klaus felt disillusioned, he’d opened himself up to someone and she was running away. She was out the door before he could even move from his seat. Checking his emails was the last thing he felt like doing, but his hand went to work on his cell checking it anyway and dreadfully waiting for its contents.

“As of three minutes ago, I no longer working for Delicious. It wanted a story I wasn’t prepared to write. I like your smile and dimples too much and I also want a Bananas Foster.”

His chest constricted as he read each word and his grin was unmistakable. It didn’t take long for him to reply.

“You make my heart smile.”

Tabloids would report months later that famed food blogger Caroline Forbes married famed chef Klaus Mikaelson in rural England after proposing over a dessert of Bananas Foster in New Orleans.

#you make my heart smile #happy birthday #tnapki #klaroline fanfiction #misssophiachase

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writeblrfantasy · 3 years ago

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excerpt from acogs: asma's memories

wrote this all today. absolutely in love with it. having a blast fleshing out everyone's pasts like this draft has been needing desperately. i hope you love this as much as i do <3

She says, “Did you know my parent was a professional [soccer name] player?”

They blink, not used to her volunteering information like that. “No.”

“They retired when I was twelve, both because of their age and the time they wanted to spend with me and Papa.” She shakes her head as if to throw it back into place. “When they got injured on the field, they taught me how to treat wounds. They were never shot with an arrow, of course, but they taught me that when I asked.” She smiles, lost in memories. “They probably thought I was going to be a healer. I can still see that look on their face the day I told them both I wasn’t going to be a healer, or a painter, or an architect. I was going to pitch my ideas in the square and run for queen.”

Kayani sits still and says nothing, soaking in the precious scraps of information about her that she’s willing to give. Her hands keep working diligently, but even after the wound is dressed, her voice never wavers. She describes her father’s keen fondness for the Actium gods, the stories he would read at her at night, turning the pages of a book with weathered brown carpenter’s hands.

All of their religions blend into each other’s countries, and it’s as common to find a worshipper of Cai or Eli living in Urkon as it is for the Kadar queen’s own father to have chosen Damokles’ mental guidance instead. Or, as the Raqutians call him, Hemocles.

Asma paints a memory as vividly with her words as she does with paint; her parent setting aside special time with her while her father went to his temple in the middle of the week. They would go to a run-down little field where they could kick around a * ball. “They spent as much time with me as they could,” she says, “because when their season was on and they had to go away, Papa and I didn’t see them for weeks or months except to watch their games.”

They would always laugh when her kicks sent the ball a whopping two paces, or when she scuffed her shoe in the grass and stained the toe green. They would patiently guide her through the proper way to do it, counseling patience and restraint, and cheer when she got it right.

At the end of the week, when Asma and her parent would go to the temple for Eli, her father would kiss her forehead and promise her favorite meal upon her return. She looked forward to it—when she was old enough to wear the headscarf, she would wash it deeply the day before they went and bathe with the special temple soap that morning. She would watch her parent brush out their long hair by the mirror, always trying to tame down the ends that curled up.

“One temple morning, I found Sasha outside the temple and I wouldn’t leave until Papa let me take her home. She was dirty and starving and limping, but I brought her to the condition she’s in now. She’s been with me ever since.”

Her cat. Kayani thinks of the dogs and smiles.

When they got back to her house, she says, she was bouncing on her feet, anxious to tell her father about that day’s events, the house would always be clean as the floor of a healer’s ward—he itched if it was not clean to his standards, so he did all the cleaning and washing himself, despite her parent’s protests—and it would smell like the warmest spices.

“Nothing was more home than my parent’s groan when we got home. They dreaded the spice in Papa’s food, they couldn’t and still can’t handle it. I can’t count the number of times Papa father teased them for it. They would say I know, I know, I’m a disgrace”—she imitates their voice and gestures with her hands— “and Papa would smile and kiss them and say it means there’s more for me. I don’t mind.”

She pauses. Kayani knows she started talking to distract them, but at some point, she wandered off into the maze of her own mind. They’re watching her come out.

She closes her eyes. “I miss them.”

They smile, fighting the urge to reach for her. “I know they miss you, too.”

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring @sleepy-night-child @florraisons @faithfire @croctears @inkovert @kait-writes

#my wip #writing

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ciggylungz · 4 years ago

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Summer Bummer

y/n x harry pairing

summary- y/n and Harry are part of a cast of a reality show called ‘summer bummer’ that’s a uk version of the jersey shore and things are chaotic

(hoping if it’s received well it can become a series, tbh I’ve been rewatching jersey shore and I stan snooki and pauly’s friendship)

2.8k words

The first thing that Y/n was hit with when she walked into the large mansion was booze, a giant whiff of it as she entered the doors trying not to react too much since the cameras were already following her around and she didn’t want to risk any horrid screenshots on twitter when the episode aired.

“woah, swear I could get wasted just smelling this place…” she giggled to herself as she made her way to the kitchen where she heard people who she assumed were her new roommates chatting.

“Oi! Hey love! Welcome.” The first person to welcome her was a tall tanned guy with a pretty strong posh-ish accent, big muscles and obvious over grooming, he seemed a bit full of himself just by how he looked. Y/n internally laughed as the guy hugged her calling him a ‘wanker’ in her brain.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

“Tommy, here I’ll take your bags. Take a load off sweetheart, everyone’s cool don’t look so nervous.”

Y/n was in physical pain from how badly she wanted to roll her eyes at this kids cocky and terribly flirty aggression, he wasn’t her type at-fucking-all. He looked like a guy who would cat call her when she’s out buying groceries, a hard pass on that one.

But- she managed to hold back and focus her energy on the other people all mingling in the kitchen. She counted 7, seemed like 4 girls- herself included- and 3 guys which means there was one person left to show up since she was told by producers ahead of time there were 8 cast members in total.

She introduced herself to her fellow cast mates who she learned were named Mandy, Kaitlyn, Selena, Ryan, Casey and of course the dreaded Tommy who was now looming over her again, topping off her basically full cup of vodka and red bull without asking her, and giving her a wink that made her want to vomit from cringing so hard.

Finally, the door opened again revealing the final person, who had all eyes on him as he closed the door behind him and set his luggage down, giving everyone a smile and making his way over.

Y/n let herself slyly size the man up. He looked to be about 22, long hair with a nice body to it with some curls, green eyes, dimples- he was cute. Plus he was at least a foot taller than her which was always a plus, she has always had a thing for tall guys.

The man greeted everyone, introducing himself as ‘Harry’ and Y/n smiled as he ducked down to hug her and politely kiss her on the cheek as he greeted her, asking for her name making polite conversation with everyone while they tried their best to ignore the-what seemed to be- millions of cameras surrounding them. The crew had left the house for the time being but the house was covered in cameras in pretty much every corner, on every wall- even outside.

It was a bit unnerving to the girl, she wasn’t used to being on camera and she was a bit worried about if she looked alright. She was one of the youngest in the house, freshly 19- a year over legal drinking age in England and when she saw the ad for casting of a summer reality show, she thought ‘fuck it, im young and hot and I wanna get wasted. If someone wants to pay me to do it, all the better!’ and she took the risk, auditioning and thankfully getting her spot on the new show.

It was around 8 in the evening when everyone sat down for their first dinner together, opting to make a simple meal of pasta and some nice finger foods as well since they were going out to a club tonight and the last thing she wanted was to get sloppy drunk her first night and puke all over herself in front of her new roommates. She wanted to at least have a chance to make a good impression.

They all seemed to get along great, besides Tommy who was still creeping on Y/n trying to flirt and being a total tool even when she was just trying to enjoy her dinner, making conversation with everyone. She of course gave him nothing in return making it pretty obvious she wasn’t interested and seeing as this kid was such a cocky little bastard he seemed to get butthurt over her cold shoulder. He was used to getting any girl he wanted back home, since ‘apparently there they have no taste or standards’ is what she thought to herself as she finished off her food and helped the rest of the group wash up the dishes leaving the pouting man child to sulk at the table while everyone else ignored him.

“alright guys, I think we should all chill for a while then start getting ready to go to Headliners and we should leave at like 12 since clubs usually busiest from 1-5am and I’m not trying to have a lame night. Sound like a plan?” Selena cupped her hands around her mouth as she spoke to everyone making sure they all could hear her, getting approval from everyone before smiling and making her way to her room.

Y/n was sitting on her bedroom floor using the full-length mirror to do her hair and makeup as she sat in her robe, her dress and heels already picked out and laid on her twin sized bed. All the girls were chatting among themselves as they groomed themselves and glammed themselves up. They were fucking hot and they knew it, making sure to highlight their beauty with the clothes that would probably burst into flames if they were worn in a church and heels as high as they could handle.

The girls went into a frenzy rushing around when they heard Ryan yell up the stairs that they were leaving in 30 minutes, all of them scrambling to get the skin tight dresses onto their bodies making sure they sprayed themselves with some deodorant and perfume since they fully planned to fool around tonight and BO from dancing your ass off in a club isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac.

All of the guys heads turned towards the stairs as the girls rushed down them, their heels loud on the wooden steps making it sound like a heard of elephants was rushing through the house but they didn’t care.

“Christ…look fucking good girls.” Casey smiled at them as he looked each one from head to toe, licking over his lips a bit as he took them in. They looked like sin personified and what’s better than that?

“Right?” Selena laughed and turned towards Y/n and Kait “Kait looks fucking hot and Y/n looks so fucking good I’m questioning if I’m bisexual now” Selena was their hype woman, even on the first day of meeting she was ready with a mouthful of compliment word vomit to spew into their ears.

Everyone laughed at her comment, Y/n smiling and smacking her roomates ass as she walked towards the door , “Sel, if I don’t find a cute guy tonight you can bring me home instead” Y/n giggled a bit as she watched all the guys eyes blow up wide at the comment, getting a few ‘can I watch’ comments from some of them which just got them an eye roll and groan from the girls.

Everyone piled into the cabs that were waiting for them, all excited and already a little buzzed from the pre-gaming they did before and during dinner anxious to get to the club, all of them just wanting to dance and enjoy their first night of summer. And of course, get absolutely trashed,

And so the team of young adults did just that. They made a b-line to the bar as soon as they got let in all taking a round of shots together before moving to the dance floor sipping the cups of liquor they held in their hands as they grinded and danced on whoever was near them.

Y/n was pretty wasted as she stumbled towards her group of roommates again, making a grossed out noise when she saw Kaitlyn kissing Tommy, hearing a laugh from next to her as she turned to see Harry. “poor girl, I guess being drunk does make people seem more attractive.” He commented while eyeing the younger girl getting a slight disgusted shiver from her as she thought about the guy. “he’s such a tool, I almost wanna stop her. He’s a total wanker, wouldn’t leave me alone and then pouted like a child when I wouldn’t flirt back at him. He’s got no chance, doesn’t matter how many of these I’ve had. I promise you that one.” She held her now empty cup in the air as she said it, giggling like crazy at her own words getting a lazy drunk smile from the man who joined her in the laughter.

He went to the bar with her to get both of them another refill on their drinks of choice, Y/n’s being a screwdriver and his being a rum and coke. They were both pretty wasted, but they were having fun and that’s what it was all about, plus she was almost chest to chest with the hottest guy she’s seen in a long time, in the middle of the club as they both are crammed into a corner trying to talk to each other a bit.

“Where you from love?” Harry asked her as he took another swig of his drink, looking down at the girl that he swears he’s torn between scooping her up like a baby and cuddling like a teddy bear and fucking her hard against the wall till she’s begging him to stop. She’s adorable, yet she’s just so goddamn sexy.

“Up in North London, how about you?”

“originally Holmes Chapel but live in Central London now.” He gave a smile to the girl and she returned it

“ahh London, maybe if I decide I like ya’ enough we can meet up after summer since we’re not too far from each other.” She offered with a playful poke to his stomach getting a smirk in return as he leaned down a bit to be a little closer to the girls face

“maybe we can, cmon wanna dance with me?” he held his hand out to the girl who took it, following him into the sea of people all grinding against each other to the blaring music, and Y/n wasted no time in doing the same.

Her back was to his chest as she danced on him, her heels putting her at perfect level for her ass to grind right on his crotch. They were like horny kids dirty dancing on each other, Y/n was having the fun she came here for and well, Harry was too.

When Y/n spun around in his arms she was pushed chest to chest with him by another couple who were dancing, nudging into her a bit seeing as the floor was packed with people. Harry of course took the opportunity to smoothly wrap his arm around her waist leaning down to look into her dilated pupils giving her a smirk that she gave right back to him before he leaned down to talk in her ear

“you got no idea how badly I wanna fuck your brains out right now darlin’, but I’m a gentlemen. Can’t do anything like that with a drunk girl, at least till I talk to the sober version about it first.” Harry talked in a deep voice right into her ear getting a shutter from her as her body tingled at the tone. When he pulled back he was met with a adorable pout on her pretty lips letting out a chuckle himself at her rather dramatic expression.

“that’s not fairrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, you’re so hot! And you wanna fuck me but now you’re being a tease!” she gave him her best puppy dog eyes but he just shook his head with a smile tugging on his lips, he was firm on his rule. He never wanted to hurt a girl, well unless they liked it but right now Y/n was in no state to truly decide that. Her body was swaying from how wasted she was, and he could tell by the slow speech she wouldn’t pass a basic sobriety test let alone be able to fully consent to having sex with him.

“Not tonight, maybe next time sweetheart.”

“Can we at least kiss? Snuggle?” she tugged on the collar of his shirt a little giving him her best pouty face and he couldn’t help but smile down at her giving her a nod.

“I’ll go for snuggles and kisses, but that’s all for tonight little girl.” He pointed his finger in her face jokingly scolding her getting a gentle bite on the tip of that finger before she pulled him down to kiss her.

It was 25 past 4 in the morning when the group of housemates stumbled their way out of the club, all completely wasted and some even having a plus one this cab ride, and Harry didn’t mind one bit as Y/n held onto him like a little lost puppy keeping a hold on his shirt sleeve the entire way home stealing kisses from him every so often.

“I’m taking the extra room tonight guys, me and my girl need some privacy.” Casey managed to slur out as the random girl-who was equally as wasted as him- tugged him towards the extra bedroom with the only full sized bed in it. Everyone besides Harry was completely fine hooking up with randoms while completely wasted, but he didn’t wanna do that to Y/n and he knew it would be wrong of him when she’s a bit drunker than he is. She was a smiley mess as she held onto the wall for support looking back at Harry who kept his hand on her lower back to keep her from falling.

“Both my roommates are getting dick right now and yours is in the guest room, and what am I getting? No penis, not even a little bit! How rude mister Harry!” she put her hands on her hips and he laughed

“ ‘m sorry, can’t offer my services up when you couldn’t even remember how to spell your own name back in the taxi love. I promised snuggles and kisses as a compromise though, did I not?” he tilted his head a bit and looked down at her raising an eyebrow as he reminded her, which didn’t help her libido since first he called her ‘little girl’ and now he’s being all stern, the guy was killing her here!

“yea yea, both my roommates are in there though, who do you share a room with?”

“just Casey, so it’ll just be us in there its only a two bed one, Ryan and Tommy share the other one.”

“Yuck, I feel bad for whatever girl Tommy is about to bang. I can tell by his attitude he has a small dick and he finishes first. I bet he even has cooties!”

She was a babbling mess as he walked her down the hall to his room, sitting her on his twin bed that’s against the farthest wall right under the window.

“He probably does have cooties, here put these on I’m gonna go take a leak and change myself.”

The older man handed Y/n one of his shirts and a pair of his boxer before grabbing his own change of clothes, helping her tug her heels off before he left her to change while he relieved himself and got ready for bed himself.

When he came back she was putting her hair into a messy bun, mumbling to herself about how bad the knots are gonna be tomorrow.

“bed time, ironically the suns about to come up but lets pretend it’s still night time.” His voice was deep and slow from his sleepiness and the booze as he spoke, getting her to scoot over so she’s on the inside of the bed, back against the pillow he had leaning against the wall so she’s more comfortable and he slid in next to her laying on his side to give her the last few kisses of the night, nibbling on her bottom lip a bit before pulling away laying on his back letting her tuck herself into his side.

‘yea’- he thinks- ‘this summers gonna be fun’

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles concep #harry styles smut #older!harry #younger!yn

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