#bc my dad himself never once used my right name after i came out to him. not once
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somethingsomethingcomic · 10 months ago
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deadnamed at my father's funeral
#parental death tw#family death tw#not sure how else to tag this one#yeah december was a very rough month for me :)))#i actually drew this on the way to my hometown a couple days after i got the news that my dad had passed away#fully anticipating that one of the grueling parts of the process would be the incessant deadnaming and misgendering#bc my dad himself never once used my right name after i came out to him. not once#i asked and we even got in fights about it! bc he just REFUSED to do it#didnt want to think of me as a man at all. i was his only daughter and his baby girl and he didnt wanna accept that id changed#in that way#but i do know bc his wife told me that despite not really accepting the truth about my identity#he was very glad that i seemed happy about it#so i think thats whatll be important to me about it#he didnt get it and didnt really accept it for himself but he was happy that i was happy#anyway it was indeed annoying at the service but more people were chill about it than i expected#and i also had to deal with fewer people than i thought i would#was talking to one of his old band friends who i vaguely remembered and joked that 'i was a girl last time u saw me'#and he said 'youre still a girl' and i just went 'no i am not. the sideburns beg to differ.'#then at the end of the service when people were leaving he came and asked for my New name and when i told him#he was like 'ok ill try to remember that'#i like to think he realized instantly the faux pas he made and was like Yikes. This Is Her/His Dads Funeral. Maybe I Should Be Cool.#anyway. the whole affair was exhausting but i got some nice things out of it too#like hanging out w my brothers#then we got home and me and my wife both had covid bc life wasnt done kicking me in the dick i guess!#im good now i think tho. its fine its fine its fine
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ethan-acfan · 9 months ago
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Desmond head canons (with a few non desmond head canons thrown in) (I love desmond and all non-desmonds equally I swear)
Desmond once came out of the animus and tried to greet the others, but he couldn't figure out which language to use, so for about 5 minutes, he cycled through different languages trying to find the right one before just giving up.
Ezio has chronic pain from climbing buildings because he never learned the correct way to climb them, nor the correct stretches to stop the pain
Haytham once convinced Connor to come with him to a tavern, Connor ended up getting drunk and zoning out for 30 minutes before putting his head down and silently crying in the corner
Connor never processed his mom's death because after she died, he had to rebuild the village, then he had to learn to fight, then he had to worry about his villages safety, etc. So he never processed it
Altair and desmond suffer from migraines and not the "my head hurts" migrans I'm talking the ones that cause you to black out for a minute and get sick
Altair once was learning to do a leap of faith, but while it was being explained, he accidently turned on his eagle vision and nearly freaked out (his dad had to take him home right after and explain what Altair was seeing)
After a few days of reliving ezios' memories, desmond started to gravitate towards Shaun because (just like Leo) Shaun smells like books
Altair has the stupidest sense of humor
Ezio collected cats, Altair collected birds, connor collected dogs/ wild animals, and now all animals are just drawn to desmond
Desmond once fist fought a gang leader *and won.* He also got the leaders' respect. (Being a bartender in Manhattan does things to you)
Desmond with adhd
Connor doesn't like walking into new places without being able to scope out the area first
DESMOND WITH ADHD
Altair has severe attachment issues, so bc of this, he distances himself as much as possible, so he doesn't get attached
Desmond got into an argument with Bill and got so frustrated that he started talking in native American without realizing Bill then said something snarky and desmond snapped in a perfect native America accent. "Haytham, you are unbelievable"
Desmond can control his ancestors' ratatouille style
When there is a time jump in the animus (for example, the time jumps in the training montage in monteriggioni), it's super disorienting for desmond bc he gets the memories of his ancestor but if he focuses on them he can't remember them
Desmond once cried for an hour in his room bc he couldn't remember Rebecca's name when he came out of the animus
Desmond nearly attacked Bill on multiple occasions because his bleeds made him appear to be a Templar (Bill is no longer allowed near desmond as he is getting out of the animus)
While they were in the temple, a bear wandered in, and everyone freaked out, but desmond just helped the bear find its way back to his mom (they now get random prey left outside of the temple)
One time, desmond tried to reach for a throwing knife before realizing he dosent have throwing knives, and he nearly died, lol
Desmond called Rebecca Claudia once, and she never forgot it
I have so many more, but I don't feel like typing them out rn
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lorynna · 5 months ago
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a terf once raped me, she kept humping me and licked my pussy, she kept rubbing my clit until i came and when i did, she told me i could never be straigth because i came to her, then she stripped down my clothes, revealing my huge tits she kept licking and sucking them and held my huge pillowy breasts until i became very sensetive, then she opened my legs wide putting her fingers in me violently, i screamed with pain, she took a picture of me like as blackmail that so i would never tell anything about her to anyone, she stripped and got on top of me to forcefully scissored with me and she kept riding me, until we both came, i was 13 and she was 25 btw, she called me her little loli and sat on my face, i was forced to eat her out
then she used her blackmail to lure me into a forest where she tied me up to a tree naked and raped me all day, took a pic of me there and sent it to 4chan so i would get raped by multiple pedophilic men, i was left in that forest for weeks getting all my holes used and abused, my cunt was soaked by 50 year old male cum and absulutaly abused and raped like the fucktoy i was, then right when i was about to die, she came in with 5 differant men and got my used, disgusting cum soaked body in a werehouse somewhere, where they made hours of childporn, i was used in all of my holes, she got naked with me and got fucked by all these old men, i got taugth my place as a female, my only purpose is to serve men just as they want,
she demanded to fuck my 8 year old sister so i called her to have sex with us too, she was an innocent virgin cutie with an unused adorable pink cunny that got raped by multiple men, i made her suck my huge tits as i rubbed her cute flat chest, she had hot incest sex and scissoreed for hours, making the most viewed sex tape in the world, my dad upon seeing that his daugthers are fucking slutty cunts stopped holding himself back and finally raped us, we had more sex and make more child porn using our cute loli bodied to make a revolution to show the world that little girls and female cunts that should be used by men <3 after that it was legal to rape any cute girl outside and little cute lolis were being raped left and rigth <33 cute sounds of little girls moaning made me really horny and i was a cute girl with huge tits always walking naked bc of it!! and i kept raping little kids whenever i saw them
i pimped out my babies to porn studios bc that females purpose to be cute sex toys, all the cum that was used to soak me in cum was reused to fuck more little girls <3
little girls are sexy
lolis and hot
having sex with little girls is normal,
fuck little girls, little girls need to be raped by men
their cute cunnies should get used and their mouths used until they cant scream from the cum in it anymroe<3
it's kind of sad that asks like this don't trigger anything in me anymore. not sadness, not disbelief, not anger. I'm kind of numb against these kind of texts if it makes sense.
The only thing I am is being deeply disgusted with this paragraph and I hope this perverted, mentally sick male who wrote this does not pose a real threat to anyone who is in their lives. the only thing that makes me sad is wondering if this male has any friends or even a partner that does not know about the kind of shit he puts out on the internet. that's the only thing I'm truly concerned about. receiving this does not make a difference in my life, altho I do wonder what the intention was behind writing and pasting this in my inbox.
is this the hate you get from males because you're a woman speaking out in the name of feminism? do you want me to be triggered by this? do you think this is the worst I've seen?
This is deeply evil and you should rot in hell for this, Anon.
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3den-555 · 9 months ago
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🍓 things about simon !!
hi!! no one asked, but this is what you'll get.
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he's skittish js naturally, thanks to his family and line of work, ig he js can't wrap his head around the fact that everything is okay. one time he almost knocked me in my shit bc i crept up on him.
massive hand-holder
he can't fall asleep for shit. none of that ”aww i can sleep only when you're here.” bullshit. even with me there he can't sleep. he's grown accustomed to not sleeping for prolonged periods of time, and will often be awake, just lying and looking up at the ceiling while i sleep beside him.
^^^ sometimes he'll go out and wander through the house, going to eat something, watch tv, do paperwork or whatever he does or just sit. but he won't leave or go out on a walk (he did that once and came back to me freaking out bc i thought something happened. he's learned his lesson.)
he doesn't like talking ab his feelings, really. sometimes he'll like complain ab stuff and you get the general idea of things, but he never like vents to you.
he won't brag about me, per say, but he'll make a point to be like "this is my GIRLFRIEND." when introducing me and like pat my waist.
he leaves little sticky notes with little silly things written on them like "miss you" or "have a good day" but he gets all flustered when i mention it later 💀💀
^^^ like "your note was cute." and he'll say sm like "yeah, sure." and then not look at me
he writes in all caps.
he doesn't give too many pet names, maybe cutting it off at like 'love' bc he's fucking british 🤷‍♀️
this man cannot draw for shit. at all.
he's scared to have kids, like he's afraid he'll be js as shitty as his dad was.
(he's yelled at me once and only once. he wanted to die when i flinched after he yelled, immediately shutting the fuck up and just stared at me for a while with a sorta like broken expression. he apologized later, though.
HE SNORTS WHEN HE LAUGHS SHAHSHSAHA
TW!!! (sorta sexual!!!) it took bro forever to actually sleep with me, not that i was like waiting (i was terrified), but he said he js preferred being casual n wtvr
bro cannot go grocery shopping on his own. he either won't buy the right stuff, or like forgets to buy half of it. i literally asked him for one thing, it was like vanilla yogurt and he came back with everything but that.
he has nightmares a lot. he won't tell me what they're about, but he has them. they used to be more frequent, but i think they've gotten better. or he's js rlly good at hiding them
he was TERRIFIED to meet my family. he said that he didn't want to embarrass himself bc he knew he would. (he did)
...
ummm, so that's sorta it? let me know if you want anymore of these for anyone else or more for simon!!
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thebitchkingofangmar · 7 months ago
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20 Questions for Writers
@elvain my beloved tagged me, so here i am, once again—
my brain is empty in terms of who to tag, so please friends, lovers and co-conspirators, if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged.
answers under the read more <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3? Not many, actually. 11, and none of them from active fandoms. I do have one original piece published there, that I'm extremely proud of, tho.
Before becoming active in the Tolkien fandom again, I posted most of my fic directly in tumblr, like a beast. I also have a lot of unpublished fic.
2. What's your total AO3 word count? I think 30k aprox
3. What fandoms do you write for? Tolkien + dragon age
Used to write a lot of 00Q, The Arcana and Les Misérables.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? My love, like flowers; I'd be home with you; And then I met you (we walk this road); A little closer to the edge; Bury me with the desert flowers
None of them for active fandoms, all of them for fandoms that give me war flashbacks, but no love is ever wasted so: a) if you like The Arcana go nuts, and b) bc my OCs from the last two are getting their own original thing >:)
5. Do you respond to comments? I try to
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? It's not the ending per se, but the first half of my half original, half dragon age fic WIP "The Song of Dirthalath" has some heavy hitters. It technically begins with the ending and it does not get better from there.
For me, one of the heaviest parts to write was "God of Bitter Things" — it deals with substance abuse as a form of self medication, unrequited love, misunderstandings, enemies to lovers only your enemy is a fucking God, parental abuse, falling out of a window and crumbling in front of your best friend's dad because you think you're a hideous, reprehensible person who loves someone who hates them and loves to hurt yourself with it.
Second comes "Resurrection No. 1", also from SOD, where, I quote:
Dirthamen knew it, as he knew what came after. In vain he tried to reach him, instead he demanded him not to touch me. "Why do you always have to do this?" It was not what he meant to say, but it was what he meant to anyway. "Because I hate myself!" The elf wearing Quenath's face yelled. "I died that day! I died. I was standing in the middle of my parents' fucking parlour with nothing but broken ribs— and— and— and that Declaration of Disownment and they let me believe you abandoned. I said not to touch me. "I always knew you hated me. I always knew you would never love me like I loved you, and that was okay by me. I didn't want you to love me, I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm used to it. I'm used to being discarded and berated for having the audacity to exist, breathe and think differently than I should. I hate myself so much I wish I didn't exist sometimes, and I loved you more than anything. All I ever wanted was to be a scholar and you ruined it for me. You humiliated me, just like my parents did. And you abandoned my best friend!" "I can live with you hating me, I can live thinking you knew, O Serene and Mighty God of Secrets and decided to ignore it and hurt me with it regardless, but what I do not understand is what do you want from me, chasing me around as an ill omen of everything I've ruined for myself and everything I left behind that I didn't, and I can live with you abandoning me but why did you abandon Kaleya?" Not a thing moved, not an atom changed. The only thing Dirthamen could hear was the hyperventilated sobbing of a person who now had no right to a name. It was the laws of his Father, it was the rules he himself thought appropriate to Piety — betrayers, traitors and those worthy of being severed from their Kin as a punishment for their own impiety were not worthy of being recorded in history. "Q—" the God of Knowledge, Family and Secrets stopped himself, and for the first time, he begged: "Please, please tell me how to call you."
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? PLEASE READ MY AO3 PUBLISHED ORIGINAL PIECE A WORSHIP SONG OF OLD, JUST PLEASE READ IT
8. Do you get hate on fics? Not directly lmao, but I was in a server with someone who passive aggressively dissed my OC Anatole and in retrospective, it's hilarious as all shit.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do. It's gay and insane because I'm touch starved and my OCs live in kinkland.
10. Do you write crossovers? Nope.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No that I know of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've translated fics, in the days of yore
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I am constantly co-writing, just not for Tolkien
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? All my all-time brain eating ships are OC x OC 😔
But! All the ships I've shipped for the longest all come from Tolkien.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Listen, if I don't finish it, I'll reuse it. Nothing is ever wasted here
16. What are your writing strengths? I think pacing. Not just in events but in the way I write. I'm very comfortable writing dialogue too.
Non-fic exclusive though, it's world-building and social constellations. Society to me is very much a web, and it is integral to my writing to integrate this. Characters are shaped by the societies they live in and I am very conscious to include that to the best of my ability.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Consistency and planning.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Babes, lmao babes, my fics have footnotes. Go ape.
Seriously tho, question 16 all over again. Language shapes you so much. Go ape. It's a great excuse to learn about another language.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Tolkien!! When I was in 5th grade.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Once again: Worship Song Of Old.
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robinofgothamcity · 3 years ago
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♡ scenario: meeting dick's ex girlfriend and it going awkwardly well
♡ characters: jason todd ( red hood ) x fem! reader
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / i'm sorry but have yall seen that comparison of Jason Todd from Titans to the comics that the DC Titans twit made? bc every time i look at it, it takes me out. my twitter groupchat have slaughtering it all night :').
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you in Dick's apartment, fiddling with a few of his weapons as he sternly told you to put it down before you hurt yourself. you, clearly not bothering to listen, continued to fiddle with the batarang as it managed to hit you on the nose. in between Dick's laugh, he wheezed out an 'I told you so'.
"fuck off, when are we going to your dad's place?" you asked, "I want to get back home before we get back to our apartments later than we already are," you mumbled, getting up and grabbing your keys.
Dick ushered you out the door, murmuring that he'd buy you a coffee on the way to Gotham as compensation for helping his family out. you were Dick's ex girlfriend and although the two of you ended on friendly terms, you managed to know his families secret and thus, you decided to help Dick out with his hero work in Bludhaven.
the two of you had realized a while into the relationship that neither of you were really into each other romantically. it felt a bit forced with the kisses and dates and a part of you saw the way Dick felt about his ex still. you weren't mad at the way he felt about Barbara but you could tell that he still had feelings for her and you didn't want him to deny his true feelings for her anymore.
both of you hopped into your car and made your way over to his father's place. you had met Bruce a while back when you were dating Dick and by extension, you had met Dick's younger brother Damian. he was still a bit of a prick to you every time you met him but Dick had told you that Damian was just that way with everyone. you had a few interactions with Duke and Cassie from time to time but it was only when they stopped by. the only two you had yet to meet were Dick's two younger brothers, Tim and Jason.
you had heard stories about them it wasn't anything too crazy. all you knew was that Tim was a bit on the shyer side and Jason was the one with the crazy backstory. they hadn't told you everything about Jason but you did know that Jason was dead at one point and managed to come back. how? you didn't know and frankly, you didn't want to know. knowing that this world was filled with superheroes from out of this world and held supernatural abilities was enough for you.
by the time you arrived to Bruce's place, you had Dick take in your back pack as you sipped away on the Starbucks he had bought for you. Dick entered through the batcave, waving a hello to everyone as you saw Damian and gave the little gremlin a smirk before chasing him for a hug.
"get away from me you peasant," Damian screamed, grabbing his blade and pointing it at you. you laughed, sitting down on his chair, "aww, and to think I thought you'd be happy to see me!" you giggled, taking your laptop out of your bag with a few other things.
you noticed that there was another person in the room that you hadn't familiarized yourself with and got up, "hi, I'm ( your name ), Dick's work partner," you said, stretching your hand out for him, "and the pain in my ass." you rolled your eyes as the man chuckled, "I'm Jason," he replied. his voice alone made the hair on your arms raise in goosebumps as you found his voice extremely attractive, "pleasure," you responded, trying not to sound nervous.
Dick wasn't the smartest of all brothers, clearly but it didn't exactly take an idiot to see the way you immediately acted around Jason. he noticed the way you pulled yourself back a bit as Jason stood up to give you a proper hello. when he first met you, you were instantly the confident person you always were but this time, you were pulling yourself back a bit.
"so, how did you meet Dick?" Jason asked. you laughed, "we're partners at work and I even dated the asshole for a while," Dick whipped his head around as you heard Damian hollering from laughter, "I'm right here!" he exclaimed. you rolled your playfully, "please, I heard the way you talk about me to Barbara," you pressed, making Dick slump down in his seat in shame.
Jason laughed at the way you managed to make Dick fall back. he had never seen someone do that to him before and frankly, he kind of liked the way you poked at Dick a bit. everyone knew he was the easiest target to mess with but it seemed as though you were professional at it, just like Damian was.
"so, who are the ones on patrol tonight?" Bruce asked, getting up. Damian and Dick raised their hands as they all looked to Jason, "you're still hurt from your previous run in so you will be sitting this one out Master Jason," Alfred spoke up. you saw the way Jason wanted to argue but Alfred gave him the 'you better not try it' look.
"you can stay with her," Dick offered, slipping into his suit, "she's helping out with communication tonight since Tim is off doing work with the Titans." you gave Jason a wave of encouragement as he agreed, not as excited as you thought he'd be. you shrugged it off, waving everyone off with a 'be careful' lecture.
the batcave went silent as Alfred had offered to bring the both of you coffee for the long night. you were sitting across from Jason, your legs crossed as you slipped in your headphone into one ear to make sure you could hear what Damian, Dick, and Bruce were saying clearly. you cracked your neck, trying to make it unstiff as you gave the three of them their coordinates of where they were to meet if they all separated....which was the first thing they did.
"so, why did you and Dick break up?" Jason asked suddenly. you lifted your head up, "oh, we just realized we were better off as friends," you replied, "everything felt kind of forced and a bit weird so we figured it was best to just be friends before it got any weirder."
Jason nodded, smiling underneath his stoic face. he knew he wanted to make a move on you but realized it was a slimey thing to do so quick. he hadn't known the real reason to the break up but figured since you were still friends with Dick, it clearly meant that there were no hard feelings, especially when Dick was trying his time again with Barbara.
the two of you remained silent, sipping away on water and coffee. a few yawns crossed your face as you tried to keep yourself awake. this wasn't the first time Dick had you doing this but you hadn't went strictly from work to Dick's place and didn't get the chance to take a nap before leaving. Jason saw the way you were fighting off your sleep and chuckled.
"tired?" he asked. you nodded slowly, "long day and an even longer day tomorrow," you replied. you saw your phone ping up with text messages as you let out a groan of annoyance, "something wrong?" Jason asked, seeing the way messages came in left and right.
you flipped the phone over, "it's dumb. some guy I was seeing hasn't stopped messaging me ever since I gave him my number and even when I told him I wasn't interested, he still kept going," you confessed, wanting nothing more than to chuck your phone against the wall to make it stop.
Jason thought for a moment. he could play this one of two ways. one: trying to give you mature, adult advice or two: being the petty teenager he used to once be. "wanna try to get him back?" he asked, quickly checking the communicators and cameras to make sure everything was still okay. you nodded your head a bit slowly, not knowing what he was hinting at.
Jason grabbed your phone, quickly taking a photo before writing a few thing down and sending it. your eyes widened, seeing what he wrote out.
"might wanna stop texting the girl who has no interest in you."
you gave Jason a look as he laughed, "what?" he asked, going back to the cameras and communicators. after a while, you got a message that they were heading back to the cave as others took their place. you clapped in tired happiness as you shut the computers down and put every thing into your bad so you and Dick could head out as quickly as possible.
"leaving already?" Jason poked playfully. you smiled, "I have work in the morning and I doubt you'd want to spend anymore time with me," you joked back. Jason grabbed your phone again, this time putting his number into your phone before shooting himself a message.
"you couldn't even wait a day?" Dick said as he got out of the batmobile. you shrugged playfully, "what can I say? your brother is hot," you responded, waving your phone with his number in it. Jason choked on his spit as Damian gagged, "gross, keep that shit to yourself," Damian yelled, slamming the door of the batcave as he made his way to his room.
you gave Jason a wink goodbye before getting into Dick's car.
"see ya soon sweetheart."
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fandom-monium · 4 years ago
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Kinky but Not Really
Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”
WC: 1.8k
TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi
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Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.
Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 
Even if you’re weird.
Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.
But somehow you still manage to surprise him.
“You want me to what?” 
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”
Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”
You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 
“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 
“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”
“Oh my god⏤”
“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”
“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”
You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”
“What the-when did you up your demands?”
You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.
How can he say no?
"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”
“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”
Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”
The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.
David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.
Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.
Then there’s Luke.
“You!”
Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”
“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 
“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”
“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”
And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 
She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.
“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”
“... Not a clue.”
Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”
“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.
“You didn't see them today, have you?" 
"No?"
Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”
Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”
(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)
“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”
(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)
“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.
She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”
“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”
“Bring me back from what?”
They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.
“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 
“A what?”
Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”
“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”
“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 
"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"
"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 
"I've never wanted to be this close to you."
"My sweet summer child is no longer."
"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”
Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”
“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.
Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”
Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 
But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”
Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”
“Dude, are you crying?”
“So you couldn't do it, huh?"
Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”
You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”
“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.
Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.
So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 
A final stand, if you will.
You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”
You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.
At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.
Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.
“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”
Your jaw slackens.
The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?
“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 
You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”
...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.
Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.
Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”
“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”
He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.
Especially because you’re weird.
AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops
to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨
pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!
i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳
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dainty-fingertips · 3 years ago
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a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader
wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!
word count: 2233
summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.
trigger warnings: none :)
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          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 
          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.
          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”
          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 
          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 
          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.
          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 
          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.
          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 
          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 
          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.
          “Mhm.”
          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.
          “Oh really?”
           He scoffed. “Yes.”
          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 
          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 
          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.
          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.
          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.
          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?
          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.
          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.
          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.
          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.
          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.
          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.
          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago
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Eunoia - Harry Styles
a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!
pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)
word count: 9.5k
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Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.
Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.
He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.
It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.
As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.
By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.
Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.
As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.
She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.
Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.
An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.
“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.
Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.
“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.
“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.
“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.
“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.
That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.
“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.
“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.
“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.
“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.
“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.
“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.
“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.
“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.
“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”
“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.
“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”
“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.
“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”
“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.
“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.
“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”
Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.
“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.
“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.
Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.
“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”
Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.
“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.
“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.
“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.
“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”
“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.
“That’s not needed at all.”
They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.
“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.
“Of course.”
“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”
“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.
“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”
“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”
“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.
“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”
“Oh, what’s that about?”
“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.
“Any particular reason why you chose it?”
“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”
Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.
Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.
“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.
“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.
“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”
She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.
“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.
He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.
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When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.
“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”
“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.
“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”
Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.
Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.
Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.
As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.
A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.
“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.
“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.
“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”
“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.
“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.
“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.
“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”
Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.
“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.
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Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.
It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.
“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.
“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.
“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”
“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”
“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.
“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”
“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.
“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.
“The Aztecs?”
“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.
“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.
“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”
“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”
“I do not,” he shakes his head.
“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”
“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.
“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.
“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.
“Like what?”
“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”
“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”
“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.
“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”
“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”
Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.
“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.
“I don’t.”
“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”
“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.
“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.
They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.
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Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.
His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.
Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.
“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.
“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.
“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”
She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.
“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.
“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”
“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.
“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.
Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.
He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.
As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.
“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.
“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”
“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.
“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.
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“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.
Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.
“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!
She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.
“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.
“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.
“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.
“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.
“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.
“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.
“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”
“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”
“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.
Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.
“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.
“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.
“I just… love how you said when and not if.”
“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”
“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”
“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”
“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.
“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.
“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.
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Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.
This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.
Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.
He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.
Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.
The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.
Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.
“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.
“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.
“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”
The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.
“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.
“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.
“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”
“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”
“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”
Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.
“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.
“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”
“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”
“You said you have some tests to go through.”
“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”
“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.
“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.
“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.
“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.
“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.
“Yes, Lilian?”
“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.
“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”
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The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.
“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.
“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.
Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.
“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.
“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.
Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.
“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.
“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”
“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.
“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.
“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.
“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.
They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.
When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.
He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.
As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.
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“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.
“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.
The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.
Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.
“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.
“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.
“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”
“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.
“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”
“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”
“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.
“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”
“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.
“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.
“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”
“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”
“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.
“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.
“You like it?”
“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.
“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.
“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”
“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”
“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.
“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.
“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.
“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.
“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.
“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.
“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.
“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?
“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.
“I just asked,” he mutters.
“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.
So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.
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“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.
“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.
-
Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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yourmcu · 4 years ago
Text
Emotional Support Mode
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader
Summary:
in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -
Word count: 2,243
a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns
Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.
read it on ao3!
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You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.
“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.
“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”
Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you.”
It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’
Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.
You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.
“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.
“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.
“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”
“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”
----
“What time is it, Friday?”
“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”
You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,
“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.
“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”
You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”
Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.
Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”
Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.
“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.
“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”
He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.
“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.
“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.
You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”
“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”
You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.
“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”
If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”
“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”
They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?
“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”
“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”
----
“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”
“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”
“No. Happy will drive you.”
Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.
Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”
“Not now, boss.”
Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”
“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”
Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.
“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”
“That would be an invasion of privacy.”
“I’m her father-”
“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.
It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.
You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.
Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.
“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.
“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.
He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”
----
“How do you feel?”
You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”
“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”
“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.
“Alright.”
You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.
What’s the occasion?
“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.
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“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.
“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”
Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”
“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.
He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.
“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”
“I know you’re just saying that to-”
“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”
You blush, “Dad-”
“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”
“I did.”
“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”
You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”
“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”
“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.
“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.
You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”
“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”
“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”
Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”
You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.
----
It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.
“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”
“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”
“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.
Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.
They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.
“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”
“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”
“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.
“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.
Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.
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epicene-humanoid · 4 years ago
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some trans Jeff thoughts:
he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)
he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret
"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition
he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look
he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him
i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.
abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.
abed's predictions:
britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that
shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry
troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more
annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots
peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)
the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it
sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?
YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god
i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)
spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3
i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 
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like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 
either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.
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 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.
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OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.
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THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 
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AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.
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and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.
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another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao
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and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3
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also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 
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okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 
in conclusion:
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they’re trans, your honor <3
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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago
Text
Stark Legacy
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part 01/?? "the only person"
master list
word count 4.3k
an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself
WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).
“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”
“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”
“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”
“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”
Click.
Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.
You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.
So… How have the last six months been for you?
Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.
But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.
You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.
Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.
You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.
When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.
Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.
But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...
And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.
You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.
“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.
“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).
You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.
“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-
You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.
“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.
“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.
“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”
“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”
You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”
You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.
“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.
You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”
Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.
“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.
“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.
“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”
You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit.  You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.
“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”
“Phantom program?” Sam asked.
“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”
“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.
“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”
“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”
“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.
“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.
“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”
Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”
“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”
Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.
“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”
With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.
“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.
“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.
“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.
“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”
Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.
“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.
“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”
“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”
“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”
“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.
You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.
It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.
After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.
Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.
Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.
“You should go inside,” He said quietly.
“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.
“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”
“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”
You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.
“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.
“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”
“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.
“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”
You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.
“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.
“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.
Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.
Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.
If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.
- - - - - - - - - -
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tonysiron · 4 years ago
Note
You got any dinluke fanfiction recs?
BRO, SO MANY!! You have come to the right place since I've literally read every single fic up to when we hit about 90 of them in the tag 😎 Here are all the fics (in no particular order) that are completed and that I have finished reading that I have recced on my ao3!
Separate Ways || 80.9K Words || Explicit
With Moff Gideon defeated and the Darksaber reclaimed, the rumours of newly named Mand'alor Din Djarin spread through the galaxy... along with the stories of the Child he carries with him. Determined to meet him, Luke Skywalker arrives on Mandalore -- but before he can get any closer, he has to prove himself worthy of Mandalorian standards.
This fic is a classic! Its literally The Dinluke fic to read. It's a great starting point, and it was written Pre S2!
Together || 1.49K Words || General Audiences
“You can come with us” the man said.
Din looked up, not quite registering the words yet. In his arms he was holding the child. Grogu. He still hadn’t gotten used to the name.
“This doesn’t have to be goodbye for you and the youngling” the Jedi repeated.
you are a clan of three || 1.49K Words || General Audiences
Din stands quite still, polite-like, with his hands crossed at his waist. So does Luke. After a moment, the baby crosses his hands too.
At last Din appears to relax completely and Luke turns away. ‘I’ll be back for him,’ he tells Din, his voice warm, ‘but first I must attend to my other Padawans.’
‘Oh,’ Din says respectfully. ‘Is that… a Force thing?’
Crystal Tears || 2.95K Words || Not Rated
“This is going to be awkward,” Luke sighs down at the baby in his arms. R2 beeps besides him and Luke nods in agreement. “Nothing to do but go back.”
His X-Wing is almost completely dismantled, sparking where wires hang limply. There is no way he’s getting off of this cruiser until it’s repaired. There aren't even any escape pods on board all of the docking bays empty. He hadn’t anticipated this, and now he was going to have to walk back to the bridge with the baby and explain himself to a heartbroken Mandalorian.
This fic is great, but so its the series its apart of! I really love Din and Luke's dynamic, so if you read this fic I definitely reccomend reading the 3 following ones as well! Altogether its 19.8K Words!
the art of missing Din Djarin || 1.15K Words || Teen
Somehow, Luke had a distinct feeling that the bounty hunter was an easy man to miss.
Or, 4 times Grogu wants to know if Luke misses Din.
I remember reading this and absolutely loving it. Its short and sweet (most of these fics are) but they made me giggle stupidly, so I reccomend it!
Yoda's Academy for Li'l Padawans || 17.6K Words || Teen
Being a new student is hard.
Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse.
But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.
Legitimately I think this might be my favorite fic so far and it barely has any actual dinluke in it. Luke's dynamic with all of Din's friends, plus him complaining to Han and Leia the entire time is just so fun to read that the whole fic flies by so fast. Also Din just desperately avoiding Luke bc the idea of having to talk to 1 (one) pretty boy has completely crippled him.
More Than His Armor || 12.6K Words || Teen
Din visits Grogu at Luke’s academy more than any other parent. Luke isn’t complaining.
His Beacon, His Harbor || 21.4K Words || Mature
The first thing Din noticed was the fire in the hearth. Near the hearth was a small, handmade crib, and from the crib came an excited cry. It spread through Din's chest like a bloodstain, perhaps it had in fact pierced his heart. He knew that little voice.
“Hey, you,” said Din softly. He dropped to his knees as the Kid scrambled out of the crib and scampered to him, crawling into his lap and burbling happily.
“That’s the most excited I’ve seen him in months,” said Skywalker. Din hadn’t even noticed him sitting across the room at a rough-hewn wooden table, nursing a cup of something. He wore the same carefully neutral expression he'd had on Gideon's ship, but his clothes were now desert-colored and hung loose around Skywalker's wiry frame. His hair was in disarray and it made him look much younger than he'd seemed on the ship; there, he'd seemed world-weary and ancient. Now, Din felt an insane need to protect.
Skywalker raised his cup at Din in greeting, a lopsided smile on his face. “He’s missed you," he said.
“Feeling’s mutual,” said Din gruffly.
___
The Mandalorian becomes Din Djarin.
Din Djarin becomes.
(Luke helps.)
Oh man, I read this fic last night and it's literally pure art. Its so fucking sweet, I love it so much. Force sensitive Din is definitely something more people need to write, and I genuinely adore this whole thing from start to finish. Leia is in it very briefly too, and that's always lovely. 💖
They Know This || 1.2K Words || General Audiences
“This is Luke, Gregory. He is going to be having dinner with us. Remember that I told you we’d be having dinner with someone significant?” Dad asks so gently, and his rough hands run through Grogu’s hair. It’s like being scratched.
Grogu nods once more and Dad breaks into an even bigger smile, though by a lot of standards that’s not very large. Dad’s smiles are always like when comets fly past the moon, so sudden and shocking and a reminder of how truly small Grogu feels in this bigger universe he calls home, this feeling that’s so overwhelming.
He loves Dad. A lot.
So hehe this is actually my fic! It's just a fic in grogu's pov about meeting Luke for the first time, and he and Din are on a date :)
Alright, I hope these are good enough for you! I don't really rec fics on here, so I hope I did okay this first time around 😎
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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years ago
Text
Don’t shout.
summary: Harry doesn't know what to do after he lied to Y/N.
word count: 1.7k
based on these requests:
"fuck i didn’t mean to send that haha okay for ‘shy little boy’ can u do something where yn and harry fight over him going to a girls house while on tour (but she’s a friend) when he gets back home yn ignores him bc she found out n stuff (the kid is not home i can’t remember his name srry) hope this makes sense"
and
"How about when Harry and y/n fight and Artemis thinks they are going to break up but he doesn't want Harry to leave him. I love you writing. Artemis is sooo cute uWu."
and
"hey idk if you’re taking requests but i was wondering if you could do one where you and harry get into an argument where he makes you cry and artemis sees and gets mad at harry and won’t talk to him until harry apologizes to you,, ty !!"
and
"where y/n and harry have there first big fight"
and
"For the my shy little boy series, could you do one where y/n and Harry fight about something and Artemis gets upset at one of them as well?"
a/n: had to change the requests a bit but i hoped they worked together!! I enjoy writing angst so i liked doing this one :)
you can find more of my shy little boy here
*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *:・゚✧ ✧゚・: 
Y/N was never one to pick up a fight. She was the type of person who preferred bottle up her feelings, most of the time. Usually she didn't have drama in her life aside from the occasional four-year-old tantrums and stuff, but then again she hasn't dated anyone in what felt like years. And she has never dated a famous person before, so every day she learned something new.
Like how trust is the most fundamental part of a relationship. She couldn't believe every little thing that was put in the internet about him, as eighty percent of it was all fake information. So she always trusted Harry and waited for his side of things before jumping to any conclusions.
However, this time, she couldn't do that. Not when dozens of pictures of him leaving one of his ex-girlfriend's house with the same clothes from the day before where all over the internet. She couldn't care less about that part, to be honest. What she was hurt about was the fact that Harry told her he was at his hotel and wasn't going to go out that night.
She knew Harry had friends, a lot of them were women. And she was no one to tell him who he could and could not hang out with. What she felt betrayed about was that he lied about it.
Now, Y/N considered herself a very mature person. But this time she allowed to feel angry and ignored every call of Harry's, not being in the mood to talk to him after she saw those pictures.
When he was back to London, he already had figured what was the problem. And he couldn't blame Y/N for ignoring him either, so as soon as he landed, Harry went straight to Y/N's home, determined to give her an explanation.
Y/N opened the door, raising an eyebrow at him but let him in anyway. She turned around and walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring him. Harry closed the door behind him and followed her, knowing her silence was anything but a good sign.
"Where's Artemis?" He asked softly, trying to make small conversation.
"His room." She murmured, raising a glass of water up to her mouth to drink from it.
"Are you mad at me?" He already knew the answer, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. All he received was a bitter laugh from her. "I'm sorry..."
"For what? Because you lied to me or because you got caught?"
"Caught? Nothing happened, Y/N."
"Then why did you lied to me?!" She almost slammed the glass on the kitchen island, growing really angry. "Why you didn't tell me you were with her?"
"I didn't want you to be mad." He murmured, like a little kid who was being scolded.
"And how do you think i am right now? Uh?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N stared at him. "I trust you, Harry. Every day, all the time. All i ever ask from you is honesty. What happens when i can't even get that?"
Harry panicked for a second, not knowing if she was going to break up with him over this. "Please, tell me how i can make it better."
"Start with telling me why you lied." She demanded. "And don't say because you didn't want to upset me because i'm not buying that. I called you the night before those pictures were taken. You told me you were at your hotel room, was that even true?"
He nodded furiously. "I was at my room when i called you. I swear."
"You told me you were gonna take a shower then you'd call again to wish Artemis a good night, but you never did. Harry, i called you, three times and you didn't answer. Here i was thinking you were so tired of working you fell asleep when in reality you were at you ex's house doing god knows what!" A single tear rolled down her left eye, breaking Harry's heart.
"She called me. She had broken up with her boyfriend and needed a friend." He said. "We drank a little, that's why i couldn't drive back to the hotel. I slept in her couch. Nothing happened, baby, you have to believe me."
"I'm not worried about you cheating, Harry. I worry about you lying to me. How can i trust you if you don't tell me the truth?" More tears fell from her eyes. "I don't want to be that type of girlfriend, but i thought we could tell each other everything."
"And we can, god, we can. I'm sorry, so sorry, baby."
 "Were you still going to tell me even if those pictures didn't come out?" She asked. Her lip was trembling as she waited for him to answer, however, Harry stayed silent. "That's what i thought."
She tried to walk out of the kitchen, but Harry wrapped his hand around her wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. But Y/N was too hurt right now to react properly, so she snapped. "Don't!"
"Mummy?" A much smaller, scared voice was heard, making both adults swallow hard. "Why are you crying?" Artemis was confused when he saw the tears on his mother' face, but then his eyes landed on Harry. Under any other circumstances, he'd jump on his arms, excited he was back home. But he was quick to put two and two together, and he instantly blamed Harry for his mummy's tears. So he furrowed, stepping in front of Y/N to take a good look at her.
"Hey, baby. Were you there long?" Y/N asked him, running a hand through his soft curls. Artemis shook his head. He didn't heard much, and what he heard he didn't understand. Just that his mum was shouting and Harry was apologizing for something. "Let's go back to your room, okay?"
She took his hand and guided him back to his room, staying with him for a little bit to show him she was okay. She knew Harry wouldn't leave, especially not after a fight, but she wasn’t sure she could keep fighting with him once she came out.
Harry made the decision to make lunch for them, hoping Y/N would be willing to talk to him. He knew Artemis was now mad at him too, and Harry felt so bad for upsetting his two loves. God only knows how protective Artemis is of his mum.
He didn’t even know why he couldn’t answer Y/N’s last question. He didn’t think paparazzi would take pictures of him entering and exiting his ex-girlfriend’s house, or that Y/N would react in that way. But he also understood how bad it looked from her perspective.
“You’re still here.” He heard her voice from behind.
“I’d never leave while we’re like this.” Harry turned to look at her, furrowing when he saw her red eyes. “I never meant to upset you.” She nodded, staying quiet. “I know how the world makes it look every time I’m out with someone from the opposite sex, I’ve been targeted as the biggest player for that.”
“Those things are not true.”
“And you know that. But… in my past relationships, they didn’t believe me. They’d automatically assume the worst, that’s why I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want the opinion you have of me to change. I’m truly sorry.”
Y/N sighed. She looked at him in the eye and could see how vulnerable Harry was allowing himself to be right now, how honest and regretful his eyes looked.
“You’re a good friend, and a good boyfriend. That’s what I think of you. Harry, you don’t have to lie or hide things from me. I know nothing happened, I trust you in that. Just, please, be honest with me. I don’t want to find out of things when there’s already millions of pictures online, I want to hear the truth from you so we can save arguments like these.”
Harry nodded furiously, again. “I promise, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” She stated. Harry walked towards her and pulled her for a tight hug, squeezing her close to his chest and sighing in relief. “But Artemis is kind of upset too.”
“I should go apologize to him too. We shouldn’t have been fighting with him in the house.”
“Go talk to him, I’ll finish this.” She pointed at the almost done meal Harry was cooking.
He obeyed, making his way towards the little boy’s room. The door wasn’t entire closed but he still knocked before entering. “Hey.” He said softly, but Artemis didn’t answer. “I’m sorry you heard that, monkey.”
“You made my mummy cry.” He stated, crossing his little arms across his chest, looking exactly like Y/N while doing it. “You have to apologize.”
“I already did, kiddo. Mummy and I have talked, now I want to say sorry to you, for upsetting you.” Harry knelt in front of him.
“Are you gonna leave?” He said, his mood drastically changed as his eyes filled with tears.
Harry was confused by the question, but was quick to assure him. “Of course not. Everything’s fine, monkey. Adults fight sometimes, but I’m not gonna leave, ever.”
“That’s what my teacher told Susie but her dad doesn’t live with her anymore.” He rubbed his eyes with his little fists, whipping his tears.
“But that’s not us, Artemis. I’m here, do you see? I’m never gonna leave you or your mummy.”
“Promise?” Artemis offered him his right pinky and Harry wrapped his much bigger one around it without hesitation.
“You have my word.”
They hugged, Artemis wrapped his little arms around his neck, applying a little pressure as he was still afraid Harry would leave him. But in response, Harry just squeezed him closer to him. He sat on the floor with Artemis on his lap, letting him calm down as he cooed at him.
“I love you.” Harry barely heard the words, as Artemis spoke above a whisper, still pressed to Harry’s tattooed chest.
But he still heard. And he couldn’t help the dimpled smile from appearing on his face. He loved this boy more than he could ever begin to describe, and the reassurance that the feeling was mutual was always something Harry loved to hear.
He kissed the top of his head, brushing some blonde curls out of his small face so he could look directly at his hazel eyes. “Not as much as I love you.”
☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁
taglist!!
@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs
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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years ago
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UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!
I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting
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Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3
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Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.
He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.
With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.
Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.
“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.
“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.
“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—
“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”
“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.
“Mommy, are you okay?!”
“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.
“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”
“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”
“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.
“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“
“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.
Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.
“K-Kō-chan, I-“
“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.
“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.
“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”
With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.
You thought you were safe.
When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.
When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”
“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.
“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.
“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”
“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.
“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”
“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”
“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”
“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”
With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.
“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”
“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.
“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”
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crybabykiko · 4 years ago
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I'm not sure if u take requests but if u do could u write a NSFW alphabet for Issei?¿ ♡
So lemme tell you something- I got this req and the first thing that came out of my mouth was BIIIIIIIIITTTTCCCCHHHHHH
And I proceeded to scream cry and yell about this for idk how long. I put so much thought into this- I literally wrote it in almost one night completely. I have SO much to say about this man. My Issei brainrot is only fueled by my stupid horny Pisces brain- WHICH HE ALSO HAS god bless him. Anyway enough about me this turned my mind into soup and it all fell out of my ears enjoy ur fucking horse cock
NSFW Alphabet- Matsukawa Issei
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No thoughts head he. 😌
gn!reader focused, obviously nsfw....
𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊
Best Service Dom. Best Dom EVER. Anything you want you get, you have to only say the words. Food? Already ordered so it would be there by the time you finished. Cuddles? His arms are wide open and his body is very warm. Sit in a bubble bath and scroll through your favorite online stores? The bath is nice and warm and his credit card is at your disposal. He takes amazing care of you, and will stop at nothing to make you feel secure/safe/happy at all times..
𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙
Welll…. I… we all know what it is. I’ll explain more later but in addition to that he also has the most amazing arms/abs. He’s very lean, definitely naturally so. Doesn’t need to work out but does so anyway keep toned.
𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒
Likes to cum inside you, but simply so that he can watch it ooze out of your hole. Sometimes he’ll even keep fucking you after he’s finished to see himself push it back in even after it’s out.
𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙
I hate adding this but he has a foot fetish. Not like a hardcore creepy kind of foot fetish- he just likes to suck a toe here and there. But only if they’re freshly pedicured… he’s very picky. He’ll give foot massages all the time tho if you ask him. He just never tells anyone about it because he knows his friends will clown him.
Not ur foot but close enough he would get you one of those little golden name anklets and kiss it every time he lifts your leg over his shoulder. 👀🦋
𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊
Absolutely. He’s done a lot in his life, and is not short on any stories of past encounters. He is kind of a sex encyclopedia, but he’s very casual about it. If you bri bc up something you wanna try, 11/10 times he’s going to not only have done it, but be able to suggest ways for you to make it better- with several anecdotes.
𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Doesn’t just like doggy- it is his lifeblood. It’s easier for him to control your movements while also making sure that he can bury himself all the way inside. He can have a vice grip on your hips one moment, his fists full of your hair the next- and if he starts spanking you well… that’s between you two and god.
He does like plain old missionary too, but only bc he can see himself in your tummy.
𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞
It makes him laugh sometimes when you struggle to take him all at once. He thinks it cute that you try, but it’s hilarious how big your head gets sometimes. He has to fuck you dumb and remind you that you can’t do that.
𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗
Trims, but not super short. He does wax his happy trail tho bc it makes him self-conscious.
𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞
Can actually be very romantic if he wants to. He is a Pisces, after all. He does enjoy foreplay and the sensuality of that to get you prepped, and he takes extra care to make sure you’re fully ready. He is going to be hard on you, but understands that he has to take good care of you, and he does
𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋
Daily. At least once. It keeps the stress away and livens his mood. He does it as soon as he wakes up, and then if he’s having a really hard day or difficulty sleeping, he can do it to ease his nerves.
𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐
Size, obvious because everyone is smaller than him Skdkfkf he’s a giant. He’s 6’2 and his cock is at least 3 feet of that.
Daddy Kink, self explanatory mostly. It’s just so fucking sweet on his ears, his baby cooing for their daddy, trying so hard to work his entire cock into their tiny hole, trying to be so good for him… he loses it every time.
Voyeurism, likes watching you touch yourself. He finds it amusing how you think you can get yourself there without his help. You both know that’s impossible, but it turns him on to see you try.
Praise, again- he loves to make you feel special. And you work so hard fitting all of him inside, he has to tell you how good of a job you’re doing, especially because he’s appreciative of you letting him impale you. He has to let you know.
Mutual Masturbation, Kinda goes with voyeurism. If you’re away from each other, you’re definitely going to have sex via FaceTime- he just wants to see you, and also wants you to see him. To him, it lets you know you’re the only one that can get him there, and that your presence alone- even if he’s not touching you, is more than enough.
Lingerie, Loves nothing more than seeing you all pretty for him. He also just really likes the feeling of lace or silk against his fingertips He can get out of control and rip your sets tho- but don’t worry, death is a very lucrative business- He will buy you several replacements.
𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
LOVES car sex. If the mood strikes, he WILL pull over. But really, he’ll take it wherever he can get it.
𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
He’s very eager to please. A little lazy, yes, but at his core he wants to make sure you’re feeling good.
𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!
He has done literally everything at least once and the one thing he just can’t get into is piss. One bad experience and a 3 month uti later he’s sworn off it for good.
𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑
Not his favorite. He could honestly go with or without it personally, just because there’s so much of him. But he will happily fuck your throat if you want him to, and will go down on you for hours to make sure you’re truly prepped. For someone who’s not a big fan of it, he’s actually AMAZING with his mouth. It’s lazy but in the best way possible.
𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊
Starts off slow so you’re good to go, but will pick up the pace as you stretch out. He does enjoy a few slow deep thrusts in between drilling you into oblivion tho. He never tries to make your guts into a smoothie on purpose, it just kinda happens that way.
𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊
He will never say no to quickie. The amount of fast food bathrooms and abandoned parking lots you’ve seen is astronomical. The amount of times Makki has kicked you out of his apartment for trying something while he goes to the bathroom is even higher.
𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐
He's the classic degen. bf who reaches across the table at the same time as your dad when you go “daddy can you pass the salt?”
So yes, he’s definitely going to tease you under a table at thanksgiving dinner.
He’s really going to have you whenever he wants- even if it comes at the expense of your pride/morals sometimes.
𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆
Can go on forever if you let him. Will overstim you to hell and back before he even thinks about cumming. Doesn’t even know he’s doing it- he’s so used to fucking you brainless that he doesn’t realize it’s too much. But he is SUPER apologetic about it and will make sure to treat you extra carefully.
𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞
He actually has a few for when he’s feeling lazy. He used to run through fleshlights like they were tictacs but he’s since finally found one that he won’t break.
He got most of them for free because he worked in a sex shop during college- he was very popular.
𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗
Yes. He will 100% rile you up with touches that seem innocent enough in nature, but are a tad bit too low, or linger on for a bit too long.
Will also give you “the look” in public and pretend he doesn’t know what you’re talking about- he definitely does.
𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊
Vocal in bed, especially with praise. Will constantly tell you how good you’re doing or how good you feel. Doesn’t moan a lot, but they slip out from time to time. Instead it’s a lot of deep breaths, groans, and curses.
𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉
If mortuary school hadn’t have worked out, he and Makki were going to start their own porn company. They actually have a very solid business plan. They made a pact to sit on it for now, since Issei is working at the funeral home.
𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞
LMFAOOOOO
Literally a foot long. Longer actually. I’m going to honestly say 13. No I won’t take it back. Perfect thickness too. Honestly it’s like… god really took his time and got it fucking right. Everything about his physique is perfect- it would only make sense his cock is that perfect to match. Color is even all around, the head is bubblegum pink. There’s also one very prominent vein on the underside, and a few tinier trails of veins on the top. The statue of David? Don’t know her. Only know the statue of Issei.
𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌
High sex drive, but he can keep it subdued if he has to. Especially because he knows he’s too much for most people. He's not shy about it though. Is CONSTANTLY horny on main. Not that you mind.
𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟
Service Dom through and through. He won’t sleep until you do, and even if he’s dead tired, he won’t sleep at all if you’re staying awake. He’s going to do everything to take care of you and your needs first. When you do sleep he likes to hold your head to his chest and will press his nose down into your hair so he can fall asleep surrounded by your scent.
Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith
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