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atlabeth · 3 years ago

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hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #sokka #sokka atla #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #atla fic #sadie writes #everyone deserves him.... sokka im sorry u have 100 gfs and bfs

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sand-worms · 3 years ago

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HI EM HIIIII WAVES AT YOU!!!!! Can I please have prosciutto Rohan and Josuke 4 for the ask game?? Sorry if that's too much 🥺

Yeas you may <3

Prosciutto

-Do I like them: What do you think 🤨

-5 good qualities:

1. He’s genuinely caring despite his colder exterior

2. He seems to be very decisive and doesn’t hesitate much in his actions

3. He’s good at picking up on other people’s strengths and pointing them out

4. This is really hard to do because my favorite hobby is to be mean about him but uh hm he’s got a really cool stand. Certified birthday boy.

5. He’s got really good fashion going for him and his nonbinary swag is off the charts.

-3 bad qualities

1. Doesn’t have any qualms about resorting to violence when it’s not really necessary. I love you king but why are you hitting Pesci. Drop dead.

2. Seems to trust his instinct and go with things bases on a gut feeling rather than any real logical explanation which is debatably a bad trait

3. I could talk shit about him endlessly but instead I will just say the fact that he’s dead is a bad quality

-Favorite episode: what am I supposed to say. He shows up like 4 times. Uhhhhhh we’ll go with the Grateful Dead part 1 because it’s epic as fuck when he shoots Mista in the head. He should’ve secured one fucking W for la squadra.

-otp: :)

-Brotp: him and Pesci obviously. Not that they’re like best friends but there’s obviously a reason that they work well together and I think they get along really well typically. Also really like the thought of him and Formaggio being weird sort of friends when they can stand to be around each other. Idk.

-ot3: I don’t have one. I think that stupid old man would be lucky to find one person willing to put up with his ass romantically, let alone two people.

-notp: propesci and brupro. I can’t stand either ship. Also obligated to say it because I did see it one time if you ship him with Trish I’m coming after you with a brick in my purse. Die. I have also seen pros/Diavolo which like. Man what.

-best quote: I’m not taking this one seriously I’m sorry I’m too lazy to like go find one but I do think the anime should’ve kept in the part where he calls Bucciarati a motherfucker. I think it’s funny.

-head canon: what do I even say here I think I’ve shared like every headcanon I have about this bastard at this point. I think he has a hard time viewing Grateful Dead as an extension of himself. GD exists mostly as a tool for him, to be used when he needs it and he sees no purpose in using his stand for more mundane things.

Rohan

-Do I like them: actually yeah I like Rohan a lot he’s fucking insane and he has beef with a 16 year old for like no reason it’s funny as hell.

-5 good qualities:

1. He’s eccentric as fuck. Like he’s a weird little guy.

2. Seems to be driven by some sort of pursuit of knowledge with the goal of making his art better and more enjoyable through realism I think that’s cool.

3. Genuinely do we see him wear the same thing more than once. I don’t think so. King.

4. Despite the fact that he’s a fucking dick he does seem to have enough sense/care to do the right thing in situations where it really matters ie tracking down Reimi’s killer for the safety of Morioh

5. Stop making me say nice things about Rohan he licked a spider uhhhhhhhhh he does proper hand and wrist stretches before he draws. There.

-3 bad qualities:

1. He’s eccentric as fuck. This is a positive and a negative he contains multitudes idk what to tell you.

2. He’s got beef with a 16 year old for no real reason. As funny as it is can we like. Calm down man.

3. There’s so many bad things you can say about Rohan he sucks so much. Uh. His pursuit of knowledge leads him to doing very very stupid things like buying a mountain.

-Favorite episode: I think the highway star arc :) because it’s right after Josuke burns his house down and their arguing is funny also I love Highway Star and my boy Yuya is there!!!

-otp: I don’t really ship him with anyone! Lame ass loser man.

-brotp: his dynamic with Koichi is really funny. Not much else to say about it.

-ot3: nahhh

-notp: if you ship josuhan get off my blog. I don’t really get shipping him with Jotaro either.

-best quote: I don’t remember the things he says. The part where he says he doesn’t care if his house burns down because it’s imperative he knows how Josuke is cheating at dice. Idk.

-head canon: mmmmmmmmm not really a “headcanon” ig so much as like an opinion but I think he’s kind of similar to Melone, character wise. They’re both highly eccentric and a little intense, and driven by a desire for knowledge, just for different reasons. Idk they’re just like the same type of character to me I can’t really explain it.

Josuke

-do I like them: YES!!!! Josuke is my favorite Jojo right along with Giorno!

-5 good qualities:

1. He’s genuinely such a sweet boy! Like idk he really is just a teenager going about his life and getting up to trouble he just kinda ends up involved in stuff he shouldn’t have to!

2. I love that overall his way of dealing with enemy stand users around town is more or less just to befriend them? It’s really cool and shows how caring he is

3. He cares about his mom 🥺

4. The way he shows kindness to Okuyasu unconditionally like immediately after Okuyasu had tried to kill him??? He’s so GOOD and KIND!!!

5. I love that he doesn’t want to kill anyone like he’s very opposed to it. He wants to solve things peacefully if he can. This is just a reiteration of point 2 idc I’m tired.

-3 bad qualities

1. His avoidance of killing people kind of sometimes ends up with him condemning people to fates arguably worse than death on a whim, ie Angelo and Terenosuke.

2. Kind of has a temper especially in regards to his hair obviously.

3. He burned a man’s house down once because he was cheating at dice but I don’t really fault him for that.

-favorite episode: the Nijimura brothers arc :) Ik it’s super early on but I love them becoming friends idc

-otp: Josuyasu but they’re teenagers so don’t be weird about it please

-brotp: josuyasu again >:)

-ot3: naur

-notp: I already said josuhan. Also Josuke/Jotaro if you ship that die.

-best quote: obviously the thing he says about feeling refreshed like he just put on clean underwear on new year’s. Whyd he say that.

-head canon: personally very attached to the headcanon that he would become a paramedic when he got older! I think it fits him very well. Also he’s nonbinary :)

#answered #Ellis tag #idk what to tag this sorry I’m tired

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ri-ahhh · 5 years ago

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west coast love (gd)

literally no one asked for this but I’ll expose myself and admit I haven't had dick in a hot minute and mama’s thirsty🤷🏻‍♀️🙊

3.7k

warnings: pure badly written smut

“I love the sunsets here.”

You’re gazing out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Ethan and Grayson’s new home with near-literal heart-eyes, elbow on the arm of the couch and chin on your fist as you cuddle the plush throw blanket in your lap closer to your chest. Neon pinks and oranges and streaks of stubborn baby blue paint the sky behind the rolling hills of Encino beautifully, backlighting the palm trees in the boys’ backyard so they’re dark and vivid against the vibrancy of the clouds. California hasn’t been your home for long — this house for even less — but a part of you falls more and more in love with it every night you get to see the sight before you.

Behind you, Grayson strides in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and a couple cans of ginger ale Zevia, which you had requested as snacks for your movie date night in. He smiles; your appreciation of the simple things in life is one of the things he loves most about you.

“Do we even need a movie?” he asks, settling on the couch next to you. He sits the drinks and popcorn on the coffee table before reaching a big hand out to brush your long hair off a nearly-bare shoulder so he can see your profile better. “You seem pretty preoccupied.”

Your head whips around, slightly caught off-guard because you had indeed been so enthralled by the view, but smile softly in return. The sunbeams cause a halo effect around your face, making you ethereal and sweet and completely stunning in Grayson’s eyes.

He’s just as beautiful to your’s. He’s big and warm and hard all over. The angles of his face are perfectly highlighted and contoured in the sun. His pupils are shrunken from the direct light and allow those green-gold hues to illuminate his expressive orbs, which are showing you love and, suddenly, desire when they drop to where the spaghetti strap of your camisole has fallen down your arm.

That’s all it takes for him, really — the mere idea of your clothes coming off.

Your smile morphs into a smirk as you hook a manicured finger into the skinny strip of fabric and stretch it teasingly back in place with a sharp little snap that draws his attention back to your face. Now that he’s next to you for the night, you’d be lying if you said you suddenly didn’t want more than a few cuddles tonight, too; Ethan is out for the night on a date himself, and you and Gray have had far too few nights spent together lately due to the chaos of your lives. Earlier you thought you might be too tired for more than an innocent movie night, but like many other occasions, his mere presence proves you wrong.

“I was,” you admit, and turn your back completely on the sunset for a sight that’s suddenly more favorable. You can’t resist teasing him a bit, though. “By your own words I am a ‘look at the moon’ person. I could probably sit here and stare out the window until it comes up.”

He shakes his head with a grin and reaches out to drag you closer to him. “Not to man-splain, but these windows face west. You’d have to wait a long time to see the moon over here.”

You let out a little hum and hook your hand around his neck, pulling him with you as you take it upon yourself to lay both of you down on the couch. He stretches out on top of you easily, shifting half of his weight on his side so he doesn’t crush you, one hand resting above you and the other already settling in the dip of your waist. “You gonna keep me occupied until then? I have all night.”

“Oh, for sure,” Grayson chuckles, and ducks down to meet your mouth with his. It’s easy at first, an effortless and gentle reacquainting as you both take a moment to savor the simple intimacy of being near each other this way for the first time in way too long. You sink your fingers into his newly cropped hair, the soft bristles at the back of his head unfamiliar to the touch after becoming so used to the curls that used to be there. You miss the leverage, the control that came from being able to grasp onto those curls and pull him away, tug him closer, make his eyes roll back, elicit those deep little moans…

He still looks good, though, too good really, and you’ll find another way to get those reactions from him. Like by sneaking your hands under the soft fabric of his t-shirt until they meet the smooth skin of his back, and digging your nails into his shoulder blades right as you slip your tongue into his mouth. As you hoped, Grayson moans and opens wider, breathing harshly as you drag your fingers down the hard symmetrical planes of muscle, his tongue wet and soft and confident as it slides against yours.

His pleasant warmth has turned into a burning heat on top of you, suffocating you in the best way. You sink your teeth into his succulent lower lip, tugging until it snaps back against his pearly teeth, and break away from his mouth to catch your breath. Your hands bunch up the sides of his shirt in your fists as you pull it up as far as you can with him laying on top of you.

“Please,” you say breathlessly, and he obliges immediately, sitting up and reaching over his head to whip the garment off by the back of the collar. Your eyes are instantly met with the sight of golden skin covering his broad chest and the steep hills and ridges of his abs. The sun, dipping just behind the hills now, makes him look like he was sculpted by Michelangelo even more than usual.

You don’t get to admire the masterpiece of his body for very long, however, before he's settling back over you with an arm pillowing your head and his tongue licking back into your mouth desperately. You welcome the uptick in pace wholeheartedly, especially as he slips a thick, muscular thigh in-between your own. Your hips grind down on him instantly, and he smirks as he dips his head to suck hot kisses along your jaw.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers into your ear when he reaches it, his hot breath eliciting a shiver so deep it makes you arch up into him with a moan. His free hand swoops up to cup your breast through your thin camisole and squeezes roughly, perfectly. “Want me to fuck you while you watch that sunset you love so much?”

You swallow and nod, moaning again when he latches onto that patch of skin of your neck right below your ear and behind the hinge of your jaw. He pinches your sensitive nipple that’s peaking obviously through the black fabric, sitting back to watch your face contort with pleasure at the simple act.

“Words, baby. Use your words.” He’s grinning down at you, thoroughly enjoying the effect he’s having on you without having to do a whole hell of a lot; he’s so fucking cocky, and you love it. You’re soaking wet, and you’d be willing to bet he can feel the heat of your pussy through the three layers of fabric separating your skin.

But he’s as equally hard as you are wet, and it’s enthralling to think he’s just as affected by you as you are by him, even if he hides it a little better. The dampness in your panties as you grind more roughly up into him is satisfying and sexy and makes you gush even more, and you wrap one arm around the middle of his back and the other around his neck for better leverage.

Your eyes meet his. “Want you to lick my pussy. Then I want you to fuck me,” you say directly, a smile of your own tugging at the corners of your kiss-plumped lips as his lashes flutter and he lets out a little growl. You’ve just hit him with the old one-two; Grayson likes eye contact and he loves when you tell him what you want so blatantly.

You achieved the proverbial knockout — you’re in control at that point, and you both know it. He sits up and shifts so he’s between your legs, finding enough room on the couch to rest back on his knees as he tugs your sleep shorts down your legs without hesitation and exposes the simple and decidedly unsexy cotton underwear you usually wear to bed. You hadn’t exactly been going for the lingerie look at the start of the night, but he could clearly care less as he stares at the obvious wet patch at your center when you spread your legs for him.

He looks back down at you with a dark, promising look in his eyes, and you smile sweetly back up at him, sucking a finger between your lips and raising a foot to press into the firm muscle of his left pec. “Eat me out,” you demand with a grin, wiggling your pedicured toes against his skin teasingly.

Grayson growls and grabs you by the ankle of the foot resting on him while you slip another finger into your mouth with a soft moan. He starts trailing kisses up the inside of your calf as he lowers himself to his stomach, then pulls your panties down quickly. He’s so wide, barely fitting on the cushions and between your thighs, but he makes it work as he pushes your right leg out into the open space of the living room and throws the other one over his broad shoulder.

“I love it when you’re bossy,” he says from that position, his eyes smiling up at you as he nuzzles into the velvety skin of your inner thigh on his shoulder, nipping gently. “Makes me crazy.”

You remove your fingers from between your lips with a smirk and trail them lightly just over your slit. You’re so sensitive and wet that even the barely-there touch makes you jump a little and coats your digits in your own slick arousal. Grayson opens his mouth before you even offer them to him, which in and of itself is so fucking hot you only let him suck them for a couple of seconds before you’re removing them to fist into his hair. You can’t wait anymore. “Get to it, then.”

He listens, and the first broad swipe of his tongue is just as heavenly as you anticipated, his eyes glued to your face as he watches you toss your head back with a whimper. He wastes no time in burrowing his face as deep as he can into your pussy, his tongue lapping and slurping up your juices with little moans that reverberate against you and make you groan.

“Yes, Gray,” you whisper, reaching blindly on the floor for a throw pillow and adjusting it hastily behind your head so you can see him better. He’s always so good at this and for some reason it surprises you every time, even though you’ve lost count of how many times he’s had his head between your legs.

His tongue is wet and soft and pure heaven as it dips inside you and curls deliciously, collecting your arousal in his mouth like it’s nectar from a flower. He pulls back and purses his lips to let it all drizzle with his saliva back over your pussy, growling and watching it with heated eyes as it mixes back with the fresh slickness seeping out of you before diving back in.

“Sweet fucking pussy,” he mumbles, his deep voice vibrating deliciously against you. “Tastes so good, baby. You wanna taste, too?”

You curse as your chest heaves and your thighs tremble like an aspen leaf in the wind, nodding wildly as you throw both your arms behind the pillow and wait for him to come up to kiss you or offer you a slick finger to suck on.

No such luck. Grayson smirks. Despite the frustration you feel, you don’t think anything looks better than his eyes peering up at you all dark and seductive and teasing like they are right now. “Gonna have to wait. Gotta make you cum first,” he says maddeningly, then wraps his lips tightly around your clit and suckles it into his warm, wet mouth.

“Grayson, fuck,” you squeal, your hips thrashing against his face uncontrollably. Everything is so wet and sloppy and perfect. His tongue is working the little nub simultaneously with his lips, and the combination is indescribable. Your head is flying high as he drives you to the edge, and your hands dive down once again for something, anything, to ground you. One finds purchase in his hair, and the other he meets with his own so you can interlace your fingers together.

“I’m gonna cum,” you announce a minute later, your voice all high-pitched and breathy and desperate. He moans and sucks harder, holding you down at your hip with his free hand as they fight to strain against his face. “Please, Gray, don’t stop…don’t stop baby, fuck!”

Bliss washes over you and your thighs close around his head sharply, your nails digging ridges into the back of his hand as you cry out. Your whole body shakes and he brings you down with gentle licks and kisses, his hands pushing against your legs to get them to open around him so he can sit up.

Your eyes open when you feel the cool air suddenly hit your dripping pussy, and gaze up at him adoringly as he towers over you on his knees. His cheeks are pink and his face is shiny from the nose down, somehow eliciting a throb down below even as you’re recovering from your orgasm. He grabs your wrist and drags you up by your arm, your body relaxed and ragdoll-like, but you follow his lead anyways. His big hands come to clasp your flushed face by the cheeks and he leans down, kissing you deeply and giving you that taste of yourself that he had promised. Mouth still glued to yours, he drags the straps of your camisole down your arms and tugs the top of it down just enough to expose your tits. He sits you back a bit and ducks down just long enough to swipe his tongue across each of your pebbled nipples with a harsh suck before he’s pulling back again.

“Turn over,” he commands, his voice strained, tapping your hip as he steps away completely from the couch.

Your camisole is still bunched around your waist, but you don’t think twice about it as you follow his instructions, getting on your hands and knees for him and preemptively arching your back as you wait for him to shuck his sweatpants and assume his position behind you.

Ass in the air, your arms hook over the arm of the couch and your pussy throbs in anticipation when you feel the dip in the cushion made by his knee. He smacks one of your cheeks and his groan at the sight of the resulting jiggle mingles in the air with your surprised yelp at the pleasurable pain.

“Fuck me, please,” you moan out against the damp skin of your arms where your head is resting, turning your cheek so you can see him. He’s got one foot planted on the floor, one bent on the couch, and one of his hands grips your hip while the other steadily strokes his hard, leaking cock.

He trails the blunt head of it up and down your slit and chuckles when you push back eagerly against him with a whine. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smug smile in his deep, rumbly voice. He runs his fingers up your dripping slit, collecting some of the slick moisture and rubbing it over his shaft. He’d be lying if he said he could wait any longer, either, the heat of your pussy practically a siren’s call of his name. “Ready?”

“Yes!” you answer desperately, gasping when you finally feel him start to push into you. The stretch is incredible; the fact that it’s been a few days and that he hasn't so much as slipped a finger inside you tonight has you extra tight and it’s so good, for both you and him. “Oh my god, Gray.”

The fit is so snug that he stops halfway, easing out slowly with a groan before pushing back in and going a little bit further. It takes a couple more passes before he’s finally completely sheathed inside you. He allows himself a few moments to gather his stamina and appreciate the view of your pussy lips stretched tightly around his girth before he slowly starts to build a rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he gasps, his hands clutching tightly at your hips as you start to bounce back to meet his thrusts. “Pussy so fucking tight for me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back and you moan, his long fingers squeezing into the erogenous creases of your hips that are hardwired to your clit. Your pussy throbs and you close your eyes when his pace picks up at the sensation of you tightening around him like that, losing yourself in the sounds of his grunts and harsh breaths and whispered curses. This is your favorite position and he knows it, and he has an equal appreciation for it since he’s allowed the view of your ass bouncing against his hard stomach, the gentle slope of your back.

The reflection of your tits jiggling and your blissed-out face in the window.

He smirks to himself and slides his right hand up your spine until it’s clasped in a handful of your thick hair at the base of your neck. He leans over you and sees in person your rounded lips, your lashes resting against the tops of your cheeks, the beads of sweat dotting your forehead as he continues to pound into you.

“Look, baby,” he breathes roughly into your ear. His breath is wet and hot against your skin, and you force your eyes to flutter open at his demand. “Sunset.”

You had been so zoned out from the pleasure he’s giving you that you hadn’t even noticed the deep purples that now mix with the lingering bits of orange in the sky. It’s still beautiful, and you appreciate it somewhere in a barely-cognizant part of the back of you mind.

Suddenly, he’s sitting both of you up, hand pulling pleasurably in your hair and causing your eyes to roll back. “Hold on,” he whispers, wrapping both of his arms around your waist once your back is flush against his chest.

Before you can even question him, he’s picking you up by the middle and walking you towards the window, still tucked inside you. Your feet instinctively lift up and one arm goes to wrap around the back of his neck while the other clutches around his that are supporting you. “Gray, what —”

He sits you down on your feet right in front of the glass. The room is lighter than it is outside now, so you can see both yourselves and part of the room while also having the full view of the dark hills, depending on what you focus on. Your eyes meet in the reflection and he bends you over at the waist slightly, spreading your feet apart to where he wants them. He collects your long hair and wraps it around his fist while planting his other palm on the window next to your head as he starts thrusting again, like he never stopped at all.

“No moon yet,” he huffs between long, rhythmic thrusts that have you trembling and barely able to stand, “but stars are coming out.”

“Yeah,” you moan, not really sure yourself if you’re answering him or if it’s just a reaction to the angle of his dick this way. It’s hitting your spot, the one you can feel from behind your belly to your nipples to your clit to your toes, and it makes your moans loud and wanton. Your temple rests against the cool glass, your hands bracing yourself against the window as you take him deep. Your eyes open enough to catch how one last, stubborn ray of the sun shining into the house makes the Rolex on his wrist next to your face glint seductively, like it’s winking at you. That’s hot.

“Harder!”

Grayson moans and releases your hair to rub expert circles into your clit as he does, indeed, thrust harder and faster into you. You don’t even have time to warn him that you’re coming, your second orgasm hitting you as quick and sudden as a tidal wave. You scream his name, moaning and whimpering as you fall apart in his arms, your legs shaking and struggling to hold yourself up.

He groans again, louder this time as his hips become sloppy with the unexpected tight spasms and warm gush of your pussy around him. He buries his nose in your hair and has enough of his wits about him to move his hand from your clit to your waist so he can support you against the glass

“Cum for me, Gray,” you whisper, out of breath and exhausted as you reach back and clutch at his hair, twisting so you can kiss him sloppily. You don’t know how you’re able to form sensible words, but your whimper against his lips. “Want it deep in my pussy.”

His jaw drops, a guttural moan catching in his throat as he pumps roughly a few more times before spilling inside you. Your name escapes his open mouth and every harsh breath that leaves with it finds purchase against your swollen lips.

It takes what feels like forever for you both to come down, but eventually he plants a soft, sweet kiss to your cheek and holds his dick as he pulls out with a barely audible groan. His discarded shirt is conveniently just a couple feet away, and he turns you around so your back is against the window before reaching down to grab it. He swipes up his nut that’s leaking steadily out of you and down your thigh, and you smile at him gratefully when he’s done, kissing him chastely to say ‘thank you’ before wiggling out of your useless camisole top.

“Still want to wait to see the moon here?” he asks, gathering you in his arms and hugging you to him with a grin.

You hug him back and shake your head. “It’ll be there tomorrow.”

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #dolan twins fanfic #smut

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the-pen-and-the-stethoscope · 4 years ago

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So while Six of Crows has been on my to read list for a while now when I saw that Shadow and Bone was coming to Netflix and realized they were all part of the same little universe I was like *rolls up sleeves* K guess it’s time to read five books in one month to prepare for this new series drop. (special shout out to @darklesmylove because it’s mostly your blog posts that convinced me I had to read this series...I give you this as a gift...)

And now I present to you (in the order which I read them) the events in the Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows books that made me go ABSOLUTELY FERAL (wow there’s a lot more of these than I thought there were).

- “The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, “is that it makes us weak.” (unfortunately the last time I was seduced by the Darkling - NEVER AGAIN BAD SIR! But this was fucking hot)

- THE. FIGHT. OVER. THE. STAG. (Just...Alina not killing it, the Darkling is here, now he’s going to kill it. NOW ALINA IS IN FRONT OF THE STAG SAVING IT. NOW SHE WANTS MAL TO SACRIFICE HER. NOW THE COLLAR IS AROUND HER NECK AND NOW SHE’S UNDER HIS POWER AHHHHH) Bonus: “Shhhh. Quiet now, or I will let Ivan kill him. Slowly.”

- When Alina figures out the dream and TAKES THE POWER BACK!!! (yaaaaasss queen!)

- When the Darkling finds Alina and Mal in Cofton and that whole fight scene and her getting bit and then I had to WAIT UNTIL THE REST OF THE BOOKS CAME IN THE MAIL

- “From what I know of the Ice Court, whoever stole my DeKappel is exactly who I need for this job.” “Then you’d be better off hiring him. Or her.” “Indeed. But I’ll have to settle for you.” (I’m 50 pages in and in love with Kaz Bekker, someone help me)

- “Not just yet, Inej.” The rasp of stone on stone. Her eyes flew open. Kaz. (ugh my cold cold heart is awake and beats only for them!)

- Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you for two days. (literally like......)

- When Jordie and Kaz get tricked. (I mean all of Kaz’s back story but that was...ugh..........)

- It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

- When Nina runs into the guards and the alarm goes off and I realize that I’m an idiot and OBVIOUSLY THINGS WERE GOING TO GO WRONG.

- WHEN INEJ TOUCHES KAZ’S FACE. His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will for him to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

- He slammed his fist against the window. “Do not speak my name.” Then he smiled, a smile as cold and unforgiving as the northern sea. “Welcome to the Ice Court, Nina Zenik. Now our debt is paid.” (like FUCK MATTHIAS GOT ME TOO. WHAT A GOOD ACT!)

- I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath. It was the vow of the druskelle to Fjerda. And now it was Matthias’ promise to her. (OMGGGGGG)

- “This is going to sting a bit,” said the druskelle holding the whip. His voice was rasping, familiar. His hands were gloved. “But if we live, you’ll thank me later.” His hood slid off, and Kaz Brekker looked back at them.

- The sun was out for once, and Inej had turned her face to it. Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world. (YEAH OKAY. AND THIS IS HIS LAST THOUGHT BEFORE DROWNING.)

- WHEN THEY STEAL THE TANK. THE TANK. AND THEN DRIVE IT THROUGH THE FUCKING TOWN.

- Nina on parem.

- “I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.” (SCREEAAAAMS. BANGS HAND AGAINST BOOK. DIES.)

- “Kaz knew the instant he made his mistake...in that moment of threat, when he should have thought only of the fight, he looked at Inej.” (asdlfkasgkjasglk;sdfjl)

- I’m going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I’m going to get my girl. (YEAH BITCH!)

- When Alina first sees the Darkling while they are traveling the fold (I froze, I read it like four times, I couldn’t believe what was happening)

- When Mal suggests they go to that stupid party and then Alina actually agrees (I literally was like...well something bad is going to happen and I hate it here)

- When the Darkling shows up after Alina and Mal kiss. “Another otkazat’sya, Alina?” the Darkling mocked. (sdflkajd)

- “I can’t decide if you’re an idiot, or an idiot.” (ugh Nikolai, marry me)

- two pages later: “You’re a spectacular actor,” I said drily. “Do you think so?” he asked. Then he leaned in and whispered, “I’m doing ‘humble’ right now.” (FUCK ME)

- “I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.” (Am I the only one who found this cute??? Why did Alina get upset??? Do I have Nikolai-colored goggles on??? Maybe...)

- When the Darkling came to Alina in her sleep and then PRETENDED TO BE MAL SO HE COULD HAVE HIS WAY WITH HER?!?!?!?!?! (ahhhhhhhhhh) “I missed you too, Alina.” That voice. Cool and smooth as glass. (AHHHHH)

- Nikolai stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the parquet floor. “When did you lift the blockades? How long have the roads been open?” (LSDAKLFSDLFDKASLDKLSKLKLL)

- “Not bad looking?” said another voice. “He’s damnably handsome.” Luchenko scowled. “Since when - “ “Brave in battle, smart as a whip.” Now the voice seemed to be coming from above us. Luchenko craned his neck, peering into the trees. “An excellent dancer,” said the voice. “Oh, and an even better shot.” (And then I damn near died.)

- There’s a whole three pages (that I will not re-type here) after they arrive at the Spinning Wheel of Nikolai just being *chef’s kiss* flawless. Some great lines include: “Everyone needs a hobby.” “I thought yours was preening.” “Two hobbies.” “Should I be offended that he doesn’t want to dine with us? I set an excellent table, and I rarely drool.” “What a filthy mind you have. I was referring to puzzles and the perusal of edifying texts.” “Last chance to run.”

- “Alina, I’ll be back to fetch you for dinner, but should you grow restless, do feel free to run screaming from the room or take a dagger to her. Whatever seems most fitting at the time.” (asldjkasl;dkfs;lkd NIKOLAI)

- Okay gunna skip ahead - you can assume any time Nikolai said anything I screamed.

- Nikolia’s second proposal (THE EMERALD!!! JUST HOW HE PUTS IT ON TOP OF THE WALL)

- Nikolai’s third proposal. Nikolai’s skin was warm, his grip gentle. I’d wondered if I would ever feel something so simple again or if the power in me would just keep jumping and crackling. (THIS is why he is perfect for her - no jolt of electricity, just warmth and comfort!!!)

- SERGEI!!!!

- When Nikolai gets fucking taken over by a nichevo’ya (I HATE EVERYONE)

- When Baghra sacrifices herself

- When we finally FINALLY find out what makes Mal so special (I mean....his tracking was OTHERWORLDLY I can’t believe people weren’t more fucking freaked out by him)

- “The Darkling marched on Keramzin.” (Literally screamed: “MY HEART HURTS.” I was crying. I nearly threw the book down. “BUT THE CHILDREN!” I say with my fists in the air. I am become a blade.)

- Nikolai visiting Alina while he is the monster and trying to make himself better (ahhhhh tears!!! THE EMERALD!!!) The words died on my lips. Nikolai turned my palm over and slid the ring onto my finger. (FUUUUCK. PAAAAIN.)

- When Nikolai comes back and FIGHTS FOR THEM IN THE FOLD!!!! HE MAY BE A MONSTER BUT HE IS NOT THE DARKLING’S MONSTER, BITCH!!

- “Please,” I sobbed. “Bring him back to me.” (lkadsflkj this was actually devastating even though I’m not a huge Mal fan)

- “We need more light,” he said. A choked laugh escaped me. I held up my hands, pleading with the light and with any Saint who had ever lived. it was no good. (UGHHHH. MORE PAIN.)

- Tamar sobbed. Toyla swore. And there it was again: the thready, miraculous sound of Mal drawing breath. (and also the first time I breathed for an entire chapter!)

- “Alina,” he said and kissed the scar on my palm, “I remember everything.” (Literally the last like twenty pages of this book I just gave up and was like actually Mal is adorable and I need to protect him at all costs.)

- “Really I just wanted to look at the words.” (ughhhhh)

- Once a man arrived with a fleet of toy boats that the children launched on the creek in a miniature regatta. The teachers noted that the stranger was young and handsome, with golden hair and hazel eyes, but most definitely off. He stayed late to dinner and never once removed his gloves. (NIKOLAI SIGHTING IN THE EPILOGUE MY HEART GOES ON)

- When Van Eck thinks Kaz is coming to get Inej and then he tells Inej and then she is WILLING HIM to not show up and then it is revealed he wasn’t there all along (BOOM BITCH THAT’S HOW KAZ BREKKER FUCKING WORKS.)

- “Those were my mother’s favorite flower.”

- “Why the net, Kaz?” I couldn’t bear to watch you fall. (POETRY OKAY?)

- Jesper and Wylan going to see Wylan’s mother and just fucking everything about that chapter.

- When Inej almost FALLS INTO THE FUCKING SILO AND IT’S THE END OF THE GD CHAPTER

- “Pick up the pace,” Kaz said, eyeing his watch. “If I spill a single drop of this, it will burn straight through the floor onto my father’s dinner guests.” “Take your time.”

- “We’ll fight our way out together,” Inej whispered. Nina glanced from Inej to Kaz and saw they both wore the same expression. Nina new that look. It came after the shipwreck, when the tide moved against you and the sky had gone dar. It was the first sight of land, the hope of shelter and even salvation that might await you on a distant shore. (AHHHHHH)

- Wylan’s first thought was that this boy had the most perfectly shaped lips he’d ever seen. His second was that his father had sent someone new to kill him. (Wylan you are so adorable it’s adorable)

- Inej was moving before she thought of it. She couldn’t just watch him die, she wouldn’t. They had him down now, heavy boots kicking and stomping at his body. her knives were in her hands. She’d kill them all. She’d pile the bodies to the rafters for the stadwatch to find. But in that moment, through the wide slats in the banister landing, she saw his eyes were open. His gaze found hers. He’d known she was there all along. Of course he had. He always kew how to find her. He age the barest shake of his bloodied head. (THESE TWO!!)

- “My leg! My leg!” “I recommend a cane,” Kaz said. (cackling)

- When Sturmhond (aka Nikolai ***swoons***) showed up in Crooked Kingdom. (What actually happened: me reading a description of a “fox-like” man with Genya and Zoya and screaming and saying to myself “OMG WHEN I TURN THE PAGE IT WILL CONFIRM THAT NIKOLAI IS IN THE BUILDING I CAN’T” (did I mention I’m in love with him??? already??? k))

- When Jesper and Wylan FINALLY kiss FOR REAL (this was a big chapter for me) This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. it was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart - or was it Wylan’s? - like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.

- CHAPTER 33 - just everything, everything about the reveals in this chapter. The money being funneled to the Shu, not being able to trace even the RANSOM NOTE back to Kaz. WYLAN SHOWING UP!!!! “ARE YOU SURE THEY WERE PEKKA’S MEN?” !!!!!!!!

- “Do something,” Matthias growled at Kaz. “This is about to turn ugly.” Kaz’s face was as impassive as always. “Do you think so?” (bahahahahaha)

- Nina’s just complete glee over the chaos she creates!!! “She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths, she would never drown.”

- Jesper using his fucking power!!!!!!

- She stared up at him. He was going to miss that look of surprise. (HE’S GOING TO LET HER GO. HE KNOWS HE IS GOING TO LET HER GO.)

- KAZ’S PLAN BECOMING CLEAR IN IT’S BRILLIANCE AS EACH CHAPTER GOES BY.

- Inej frowned. “I thought you and Nina chose four outbreak sites on the Staves.” Kaz straightened his cuffs. “I also had her stop at the Menagerie.” She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

- “A sedative,” said the medik. “Is that safe for a pregnant woman?” “For me.” (This is just FLAWLESS in its depiction of people who don’t do OB care regularly.)

- Matthias saw the anger there, the rage. He knew it well. But he was still surprised when he heard the shot. (NOOOOOOOO!!!)

- “Has she at least done it before?” said Kaz. “For this purpose?” asked Sturmhond. “I’ve seen her do it twice. It worked splendidly. Once.” (NIKOLAI I BEG YOU!)

- When Matthias DIES?!??! (I’M SORRY WHO LET THIS HAPPEN??)

- “You will meet him again in the next life,” said Inej. “But only if you suffer this now.”

- Wylan getting all of his father’s money because KAZ HAS BEEN PLANNING THIS ALL ALONG??!

- Jesper leaned in and said, quietly enough that no one else could hear, “I can read to him.” (alksdflk;jasfl;jkd that was hot)

- “Well hopefully the medik will be here to fix my ribs soon,” he said as he headed back into the parlor. “Yeah?” “Yes,” said Wylan, glancing briefly over his shoulder, his cheeks now red as cherries. “I’d like to make a down payment.” (OMG WYLAN?!?!?! IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!?! IS THIS ALLOWED?!?!)

- At some point, Jesper realized Kaz was gone. “Not one for goodbyes, is he?” he muttered. “He doesn’t say goodbye,” Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. “He just lets go.” (TEARS.)

- She felt his knuckles slide against hers. Then his hand was in her hand, his palm was pressed against her own. A tremor moved through him. Slowly, he let their fingers entwine. (I gasped so loud i literally woke my cat up from a deep sleep.)

- “Wait,” he said. The burn of his voice was rougher than usual. “Is my tie straight?” Inej laughed, her hood falling back from her hair. “That’s the laugh,” he murmured. (THAT’S THE LAUGH. THAT’S THE LAUGH. AHHHHH)

Okay done. Gunna go stare at the ceiling until tomorrow night/whenever I finally get King of Scars and Rule of Wolves in the mail (BECAUSE YOU KNOW MY SORRY ASS IS DYING AT THE THOUGHT OF TWO BOOKS ALL ABOUT NIKOLAI)

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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Sorry to interrupt you but can you explain why do you think taeyong's kibbe type is dramatic?

taeyong’s kibbe analysis: a dramatic type profile

first impression is everything with kibbe, so let’s take a look. what instantly strikes you is how you can draw this guy with a ruler: everything stark, everything sharp.

this looks just way too mature for any other kibbe category already. so many pointy, irregular, long, thin angles. to me, except the extreme height, he has all dramatic characteristics and no tinge of yin in him. not a single curved line to be seen. look at that arm and how taut his cheek profile is. the nose can cut like a razor.

to confirm that. taeyong also looks best in D stylings rather than say gamine. it feels too chaotic or childlike on him, the outfit overshadows the person, it looks like a different world:

or classic — too understated on him, too symmetrical, bland, makes him disappear, doesn’t underline his features well:

whereas the same outfit idea looks much sexier and sassier on an actual (flamboyant) gamine who carries it effortlessly:

and an actual (soft) classic, which is a type that shines in the most conservative of clothes:

for taeyong, it needs a head to toe color kind of futuristic concept. suddenly his face is where you look at and the bigger picture works out.

the more geometric and bold with black and white contrasts, the better. keeping it minimal so we see him the most. he really pops out in kick it because it’s a dramatic styling.

when you wear your kibbe category, the outfit no longer overpowers or is more important than you. you see taeyong, not the fashion choice. you can get a good idea of him and the shapes and size bring out all the sex appeal. i find him the most impressive here:

any element that is contrary to his type has the opposite effect. fluffy hair, small accessories, wild color layering, bulky lines, no geometric shapes, youthful wardrobe: suddenly he’s completely gone, almost unrecognizable and even appears a lot older.

put some grandpa glasses, wild and terribly dyed hair, plus a random jacket on a gamine, it plays into their look entirely. what’s a bad outfit on one type is attractive on another, it’s funny.

so, you can see why pure dramatic brings out his very best. that’s a type that can handle a lot of dressing up. it’s also the reason why he can rock the subcategory. taeyong in soft dramatic, he looks dazzling with all the drapes and ornaments and jewelry overload. oh man, look at him.

a little different and the hair doesn’t fit completely but also very interesting and memorable on him, this soft dramatic jacket is the bomb:

natural stylings, sort of decent, can be too large though, especially sportswear jackets. but you can tell there’s some major yang going on by how he can wear a completely monochrome look and not make it boring. it also feels like he has the height to pull it off even if taeyong is not the tallest when you compare him with others. but in and of itself, the vertical line is there.

regardless, it has to be crisp and fitted. dramatic makeup is the best on taeyong. sharp dark brows and smoky eyes, very harsh lighting, shadows all around him. add metallic jewelry... perfect.

the hair is best when it’s all sleek and pulled back. put him in a funky gamine multicolor crop mane and it looks like a wig he got from 2013 sehun 😂

seriously, these stylists. the fluffed up cotton candy colors need to go back to where they belong which is on the sweet gamines. where it looks surprisingly sexy, if not seductive. when baekhyun said girl i’m your candy, he didn’t lie.

gd (flamboyant gamine poster boy) has done all of these colors times ten and manages to look handsome and pretty edgy, even in the weirdest cuts and colors.

same for hyuna (soft gamine), looks pretty cool right here. no other type can do ice cream galaxy hair.

because: it’s in their gamine geometry and they have some yin (= soft, wishy-washy outlines). button nose, squishy cheeks, pouty lips, moon face. completely different story. you can fluff the hair up to maximum effect and it looks really good.

the same idea looks strange and frizzy on taeyong, he doesn’t look like himself anymore.

you can see how it makes his face look even sharper. compare it to yoongi, hair like that only picks up on the roundness that’s already there. with taeyong, it creates a contrast. that’s your sign.

it needs a much more severe and hypermodern outfit. with large square shapes, hard contrasts and only 2-3 dominant colors. that’s how you know taeyong is pretty much pure yang. most other types need some kind of line blend. meanwhile, taeyong shines in the absence of yin. this one has a bit of natural sprinkled in but looks on point because it’s so geometric:

as the finale — easily my favorite outfit here, lots of dramatic elements: only one color (no gradients either), stiff hair and fabric, a huge lapel, asymmetry with the flower emblem and waist ties, strong eyebrows, eye shadow, sharp shoulders, straight sleeves, V-neck. amazing.

so, i rest my case — we have a dramatic on our hands 👆

#taeyong #kibbe #yoongi #hyuna #yeosang #hoseok #nct #super m #cub mail 🐆#ask #anon

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lesbeet · 4 years ago

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ok so the woman i’ve been doing editing work for who has me working on that paper about heritage language learners (which, btw, she was so happy about my revisions for that she said she wants me to put my name on it too!) sent me the first half of a manuscript for what i guess i would classify as a novella? and um. i thought the paper was bad but WHOO BOY this is something else

the writing style is basically “shitty fanfic writer who relies solely on cliches and adverbs for impact” except with like. possibly 2 or 3 images/descriptions throughout the entire 40 pages she’s sent me so far. and it’s so melodramatic and maudlin and it’s also almost entirely exposition and she’s supposed to submit it by SATURDAY skfljdfkssdj

like ideally i’d be like “hey so the entire structure of this needs reworking” bc basically the format is like half with the protag in her therapist’s office and half writing letters to someone, but there’s like....very little narrative purpose for it other than to be flashy? and it doesn’t really make sense?

also like. the content of the story is EXTREMELY triggering (multiple mentions of r*pe, including a graphic scene of it, multiple su*cide attempts, multiple descriptions of self-harm, etc) and she didn’t even mention it to me when she sent it over like i was completely blind-sided by it so um. thank gd i don’t get easily triggered by things like that in writing i guess?

like. gd it’s bad it’s just so bad i feel bad because she’s so incredibly sweet and she’s been pretty receptive to feedback on the projects i’ve edited for her so far so i’m not worried about her reaction but i always feel so brutal when i get stuff like this because it needs SO much work. it really feels like a first draft and idk i just don’t feel like that needs to be seen by an editor, let alone multiple editors? bc there’s an editor’s note from someone else at the top of the manuscript, which i purposely didn’t read until i was done reading the whole thing bc i wanted to form my own thoughts, and they seemed to have been on the same page (ha) as me about it, although written in a very kind manner ofc

but it’s like. idk the biggest challenge for me as an editor is figuring out where to draw the line between making something more effective and like...erasing the original writer’s voice. i think i’ve talked about this before, and i think i usually do manage to walk the line pretty well, but when it’s something this rough it gets really difficult, especially on such a short timeline like it’s gonna take so long to go in and make comments and then justify them (bc sometimes if i don’t justify my suggestions she doesn’t understand why i’m making them and then doesn’t necessarily follow them lmao...and then once i explain she’s like ‘oh omg no you’re absolutely right’)

idk! this is why i don’t want to actually do this for a living and i just do it as a side gig bc i would lose my mind if my entire career was just trying to guide someone somewhere when it would be so much easier to just do it myself lskdjfksdjfs

anyways end rant //

#rape mention #suicide mention #self-harm mention

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

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Absolute Truths

This idea wormed its way into my head and for the life of me I couldn’t get it out.

This oneshot is a little longer than the stuff I usually write (a whopping 8539 words), but I loved every minute of it. I tried editing it to the best of my ability, but honestly I suck at that. No beta, we die like Glenn. #SorryNotSorry #TooSoon ?

Please note this is non canon. The time frame for this is sometime after the Battle of Gronder post time skip and it is a mash up of the GD and BL routes (ie. Dimitri joins Claude and is no longer crazy; Rodrigue still dies. RIP).

Cross posted to ao3.

Pairing: Sylvain x Felix

Warnings: mentions of child abuse and PTSD

Synopsis:

When Felix and Sylvain get hit with a dark magic spell that reverts them back to children, the Resistance Army gets a deeper look into their bond and learn 5 absolute truths that form the foundation of their relationship.

5 undeniable facts of Sylvain and Felix’s relationship.

Word Count: 8539

“Felix!”

Fuck. Sylvain loses sight of him for only a minute but that is all the enemy needs to overwhelm the already bombarded swordmaster.

Pulling the reigns sharply to the left, the Paladin charges across the battlefield, skewering any unfortunate enemies that dare block his way, the lance of ruin glowing like a beacon of fury despite the thick coating of blood on it. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and dark magic, making it hard to breathe and blurring the red head’s vision. Regardless, Sylvain presses on; determined to get to his best friend in time before the group of mages over the hill finish casting… whatever ominous looking spell they are aiming at Felix.

“Sylvain, get out of here!” Felix shouts angrily, not even pausing his fighting to face the sight of Bella charging her way through the throng with her master astride her.

Shit. Felix cuts down another enemy.

It is never ending. No matter how many falls to his blade, another two enemies take their place. Felix isn’t stupid – he can see the group of mages prepping a dark magic spell in the distance, which makes him even angrier when he spots Sylvain riding to his aid.

Like hell he’ll give his childhood friend another reason to toss himself into harms way. Felix isn’t weak. He doesn’t need protection. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Sylvain to be the one who gets hurt trying to fix his mistakes just because he got a little too cocky and split from the rest of his battalion.

“Fuck.” Felix grunts and pushes his sword hard to disengage the thief that has him in a sword lock. He doesn’t bother to see if he is being pursued and dashes towards Sylvain who is now dismounting a short distance away, Lance of Ruin making quick work of anyone who strays too close for comfort.

Sylvain was undoubtedly within hit range of the spell now. If that idiot insists on being his usual self-sacrificing self, then the least Felix can do is use his own body to shield the older man and take the brunt of the damage.

The tell-tale crackle of magic behind him sets the hair on his nape standing.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

He isn’t going to make it. Damn Sylvain for being so slow – this is exactly why he keeps telling him to take his training more seriously-!

“Fe!”

The last thing he knows before succumbing to the darkness is a hard chest plate knocking the wind out of him and warm, strong arms that remind him of summers spent with a heart lighter than air.

----

1. Sylvain always has, and always will protect Felix until the day he dies.

Leonie is one of two on the first shift of babysitting duty.

Undeniably, the orange haired paladin would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the greatest with kids, however there is only so much the tiny, and thankfully unconscious, Fraldarius boy can do given his current predicament.

No one really knows what happened after the enemy spell envelops Felix and Sylvain, the larger of the two curled protectively around his companion as they fall. No one even knows what the spell is.

But what they do know is that now, instead of a regular sized Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Sylvain Jose Gautier, they have a chubby cheeked blue haired cherub and an unfairly-cute-even-as-a-child ginger.

It is in the middle of bemoaning her poor luck at drawing straws when the mini-Felix begins to stir and she feels panic clawing its way up her throat.

“Ngghh…” small, unscarred hands balled into fist come up to rub at bleary amber eyes before they widen almost comically as they take in his surroundings.

“Uhh… hey.” His gaze snaps towards Leonie and she can feel her terror rising with mini Felix’s hysteria, clearly evident by the shiny glaze beginning to cloud his eyes and the fat crocodile tears gathering at the edges of his almond eyes.

“It’s okay, Felix. It’s just me.” She reaches out a hand tentatively in a placating gesture, but quickly withdraws back as young Felix lets out a squeak and scurries as far back into the corner of the bed as he can get, taking his older self’s wool Fraldarius crest blanket with him, as if it could shield him.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” The poor thing is absolutely terrified and damn it, Leonie wants to comfort him, but she is equally as distressed here and this is exactly why she didn’t want to babysit.

“It’s me, Leonie. You don’t… you don’t recognize me?”

It comes out sounding more like a statement than a question.

It’s so painfully obvious that little Felix has no idea who she is.

Which means he doesn’t have his memories.

Which means they are down two of their best generals.

Which means they are well and truly fucked.

So, Leonie does the only thing she can logically think to do.

“Come on,” She says, rising from her bedside chair and reaching for his arm. “We need to go tell Linheartd that the situation is much worse than we had originally thought.” But as soon as her hand wraps around his forearm, Felix screams.

“Oh shi-! Felix! Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you!”

If anything, this just seems to have the opposite effect and the wails increase to near piercing.

Leonie thinks it may be a trick of her mind, and probably her ears because holy crap does little Felix have a set of lungs on him, but she is pretty sure that Felix is screaming out a name.

Specifically, a name belonging to a certain red head that is, the last time she checked anyways, unconscious two doors down from his room and currently being watched over by Caspar.

“Fe!” The door bursts open and suddenly there is chaos.

Was being watched over by Caspar, Leonie amends in her mind.

“Get back here!” The blue haired warrior lunges and swipes his arm out trying to catch mini Sylvain who is slipperier than a fish in water, using his short height to duck between legs and launch himself onto the bed.

“Leave Fe alone!” Honey brown eyes that are so very familiar yet also so different, are glaring holes into Leonie and Caspar, proudly defiant and blazing with determination. Short arms stuffed into the smallest adult shirt they could find on short notice stretch out protectively, completely shielding Felix from sight.

“S-Sylvain,” comes the little sob from behind him and the older boy spares a second to throw a comforting smile behind him. “Don’t worry, Fe. I’ll protect you.” And Goddess, he sounds so genuine and earnest that it makes Leonie wonder what happened to cause their Sylvain to hide behind fake laughs and charming lilts of the tongue.

“Sorry, Leonie.” Caspar is gasping for air like he has just run a marathon. “I tried to keep him in his room but as soon as he heard Felix screaming, he was out faster than I could blink.”

“Ugh. Just go get Ingrid and the Professor.”

----

2. Sylvain hates himself and his crest, but Felix likes him in spite of it.

A day later finds Ingrid watching over the five year old Felix (“What?! He’s five? But he’s so tiny.” “Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll cry again.”) and seven year old Sylvain.

“Just stay in this area, okay?” She calls out over the din of raucous laughter echoing throughout the courtyard. “I don’t want you two wandering off and getting into trouble.”

The play wrestling pauses for a brief moment and little Sylvain sticks out a tongue at her.

“We don’t get into trouble! You’re just a party pooper!”

“Yeah! Party pooper!”

Shoving down the urge to smack her childhood friends into the next moon, Ingrid settles for watching with pursed lips as Felix dissolves into giggles, Sylvain’s grabby hands finding purchase in his sides and tickling him relentlessly. The look of such carefree happiness on their faces makes her heart clench and eyes sting.

If Ingrid is being completely honest… she misses this.

She remembers what it was like not carrying around a broken heart for a man buried six feet under, his remains not even whole enough to bring home. Back when she could play wrestle with Fe, Sylvie, and Dima in the dirt and then go to Glenn to kiss her knee better when one of them inevitably accidentally activated their crest and used too much strength, resulting in tears and scrapes and bruises.

It doesn’t do her any good to dwell on the past.

The dead should be left to rest, and the living should move on.

For an emotionally constipated guy, Felix is dead on with his philosophy.

Though she has long come to terms with her betrothed’s death, the small sliver of envy she has for her two oldest friends still lingers in the deepest, darkest recesses of her heart.

They’re lucky that they still have each other, even though they spend half the time bickering and denying their feelings.

“Is that the Gautier boy?”

Two monastery staff members stop beneath the path archway and look with undisguised admiration.

“So handsome at such a young age!”

“And I hear he’s incredibly charming too.”

Ingrid knows that Sylvain and hear them. He has always been keen of hearing, especially when it involves others gossiping about himself, for better or for worse.

Felix takes advantage of Sylvain’s distraction to get the upper hand and rolls on top, completely oblivious to the onlookers.

“If I were his mother, I would have secured him a betrothed as soon as he was tested for a crest.”

A hum of agreement. “Yes. His family is blessed with good looks so it would not be hard to secure an advantageous match. The Gautier line will likely continue on stronger than ever with such a prized heir.”

“Sylvain? Why did you stop?”

Felix is all wide eyes and adorable pouty cheeks, staring confusedly down at his best friend underneath him who has gone strangely silent with a strangled expression.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

The two gossipmongers snap to attention at Ingrid’s sharp tone, her expression clearly telling them to get the hell out of here or risk facing her wrath.

With rushed replies of “yes, sorry miss!” and “our apologies”, they scurry off down the pathway and disappear around the corner.

But unfortunately, the damage is already done.

“Sylvain? What’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

Gently, the older boy extricates himself from Felix’s death grip of a grapple and stands up with his eyes cast downwards. “Sorry, Fe. I… I don’t want to play anymore.”

“What? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“I’m tired. I want to go back to our room.”

It only takes one look at Sylvain’s expression before Felix is latching his fists into the fabric of Sylvain’s pants with a scowl on his face.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Fe! I don’t want to play anymore.”

“We’re best friends aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, of course we are.”

“Best friends don’t lie to each other.”

Ingrid has patiently watched the exchange between Felix and Sylvain to this very moment, hoping that they can sort out this argument without her intervening like she always did as a child, but through years of experience, she can sense that one of them is about to snap and she would very much like to avoid that.

“You know the only reason we’re best friends is because our parents are friends and we both have crests.”

There it is.

It’s absolutely heart breaking how Sylvain has already learned to self destruct at the tender age of seven. If Miklan were still alive, Ingrid would skewer him a thousand times over for instilling the mantra of ‘you’re not worthy of love’ into Sylvain’s head.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go-“

“You’re a stupid head if that’s what you think.” Felix’s interruption shocks her. His usually bright amber eyes are fixed in a watery glare leveled at the boy opposite him. Right now, Ingrid may as well be invisible for all Felix cares.

“What?”

“You’re a stupid head!”

Sylvain looks absolutely affronted.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are!” a few tears have managed to slip beyond the barrier and trail down Felix’s cheeks. “I don’t care that our parents know each other. And I don’t care about any stupid crests.”

Felix marches up to Sylvain with all the anger he can muster in his five year old glory and reaches up to smoosh his cheeks together. “I’d still pick you to be my best friend in the whole wide world because you’re funny and nice and I’m always happier with you than Ingrid or Dima.”

Sylvain can only stand there with his lips parted in round ‘o’ from his cheeks being pushed together and a dazed look in his eye. Felix takes this as a sign to continue his little tirade.

“And I know you’re smart so you should stop being such a stupid head because I don’t care what you think. You’re my best friend and I’ll always pick you over any stupid crest.”

“Fe…”

She recognizes that tone. Ingrid looks away then because she fears that if she doesn’t, the part of her heart that belongs to Glenn might just twist its way into her throat and choke her with envy.

Sylvain is giving Felix that look that she has seen many times throughout their lives whenever she watches her two friends from afar. It’s one that everyone, except for Felix, has seen a million times and knows that to Sylvain, the world around him has fallen away except for one person.

“You’re my best friend, Sylvain. So, don’t lie to me.”

For the first time since the gossipers appeared, Sylvain lets a smile slip through.

“Okay. I promise.”

Felix eyes him warily and searches for any hint of a lie in Sylvain’s expression. Once satisfied, he loops his own pinky around the one outstretched to him.

“Good. Now let’s go play Knights and Bandits!”

Perhaps it is because Felix is always looking ahead that he never sees how Sylvain looks at him like he was the one who hung the stars and moon in his dark sky, illuminating his life with happiness and love.

----

3. Felix feels so much and Sylvain is the only one who understands him even without words.

A collective sigh echoes throughout the monastery when they find out that mini Felix and mini Sylvain aren’t too picky with their food.

Granted, even as a child, Felix shows a proclivity towards eating meat; but with a little friendly jostling from his best friend, even the youngest Fraldarius son can be convinced to eat his brussel sprouts.

Which is exactly why Claude is so baffled when Felix starts to protest eating during mealtimes.

“What do you mean he won’t eat?”

He’s well aware that he probably sounds like an idiot, if the exasperated look Lorenz is giving him is anything to go by; but they haven’t had any trouble before so it makes absolutely no sense that Felix would start being picky now.

“It’s exactly as I said,” Lorenz frowns. “We were all simply sitting together enjoying a meal, when Felix stopped eating and refused to finish his dinner. I’ve been told this is now the third occurrence in a row that his has happened.”

“Was he full?” Byleth pauses from looking through some supply requests to chime into their conversation. Although she has not outright said anything, Claude knows his love well enough to tell that she is stressed about their current predicament. Felix throwing a silent protest against food is just one more thing to add to her pile of worries that she doesn’t need.

“Don’t worry, Teach,” Claude winks and flashes his signature grin. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You just worry about securing our supplies for the next moon, yeah?” His chair lets out a deafening screech as it drags across the floor, drowning out any protests their former professor may have and providing Claude the distraction he needs to usher Lorenz out of the room with him.

“Claude, are you sure you know what you are doing?” The doubt rolling off Lorenz would have offended a lesser man, but Claude has spent his life being the underdog and he lets the words bounce harmlessly off him. “Felix is not an enemy to be outsmarted. He is simply a child who only adheres to emotion.”

“I am aware of that, yes.”

“Then why do you look as though you are about to hatch a scheme?”

Because he is.

And although Felix is not an ‘enemy’, per say, doesn’t mean that Claude can’t use his usual tactics of watching and observing his opponent until he has hatched a plot to take them down. Hence, leading to Claude’s current position tucked away in the far corner of the mess hall during the following breakfast.

Even on his off days, Claude is always watching and learning. He knows the favourite foods of all his fellow comrades in arms and he also knows whom everyone’s preferred companion is.

There is very little that escapes his notice, and the Resistance Army leader is confident that he will have a plan by sundown at the very least.

It is a little past 8am when the two children sleepily trudge their way into the dining hall with Bernadetta, their ward for the day, close behind them.

Nothing seems particularly strange or odd when they join the line to retrieve their meal; and nothing remarkable happens either when Bernie leads them to the only empty table left in the middle of the hall.

“Good morning, Bernadetta!” Raphael greets cheerily and shuffles his mountain of food over to join the trio at their table. “Good morning, Felix, Sylvain!”

The little ones mumble back a greeting, but their voices are lost in the din of the morning meal chatter.

So far, so good. Felix is still eating his porridge (albeit with an adorable frown on his face) and talking animatedly about goddess knows what with Sylvain, who occasionally turns to answer a question from the adults.

“Oh, good morning, Bernadetta, Felix, Sylvain!”

Slowly but surely, the table begins to fill as their friends meander into the building in search of food to start their day. Greetings are exchanged and unsurprisingly, Felix and Sylvain garner a lot of attention due to their current forms. Sylvain, ever the chatterbox that he is, fields most of the questions; Whether it is because he is being considerate of his quieter friend or if he simply relishes in the attention is debatable, but Claude cannot help but notice how his eyes constantly dart back towards Felix who grows increasingly frustrated.

“Oh, you’re just too adorable!” Annette’s squeal of delight reaches even Claude’s remote corner and he assumes that the wince he sees from Felix is due to the sheer volume of the orange haired mage. Sylvain, the current object of attention, just flashes her his prize winning smile; his dimples making him look even more endearing than he already is.

The adults gathered around the children don’t even notice that Felix has stopped eating. Nor do they see Sylvain quietly reach below the table to grab Felix’s smaller hand in what looks to be a gesture of comfort.

In fact, it takes another five minutes of cooing and fawning before Raphael, of all people, notices that Felix is now glaring with teary eyes at his bowl of half eaten porridge.

“What’s wrong, little buddy? Not feeling well?”

Immediately the attention shifts to him and the effects are just as disastrous as Claude predicts.

“I’m not hungry.” Some of the porridge finds its way onto the table as Felix pushes his bowl away with such ferocity, Claude is half surprised it doesn’t completely tip over.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry?” Annette frowns. “This is the fourth time you’ve left a meal unfinished. Are you not feeling well? Do you need to go see Mercedes?”

“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Felix? We just want to make sure you’re not getting sick.”

“I’m fine.”

It’s a big fat lie and anyone with half a brain can hear the distress and frustration in the blue haired boy’s voice. One lone tear manages to squeeze its way out of Felix’s water logged eyes and that’s all it takes for the table to burst into a flurry.

Claude almost feels bad for Felix as the adults descend on him like a pack of vultures, all of them crowding him and trying to coax the reason for his distress out of him. The Almyran prince has half a mind to go over and rescue his friend in arms from a situation that is probably in his top ten worst fears, but before he can even get out of his seat, Sylvain is already bounding out of his chair with a teary Felix in tow.

Sylvain shouts something about ‘Knights and Bandits’ and they’re out the southern doors before Bernadetta can even process what has happened.

Felix’s half eaten bowl of porridge sits on the table completely forgotten.

----

At lunch, Claude decides to test a hypothesis.

He asks Mercedes and Hilda to sit with the kids at lunch and pay special attention to Felix.

To everyone else, he gives them strict orders to leave their table alone.

Satisfied with how his experiment is set up, Claude finally seats himself back in his observatory spot with his own lunch sitting in front of him.

He’s not expecting amazing results. In fact, he’s not expecting his first hypothesis to be a success at all, but he wants to try it none the less because there is always the possibility that mini Felix fundamentally operates much differently than the Felix that he is used to.

What he doesn’t expect is for Felix to immediately shut down the minute Hilda tries to engage him in some conversation about the games him and Sylvain play in the courtyard.

Today’s lunch special is Daphnel Stew and Claude has it on good authority that it is a favourite of Felix’s (technically Dimitri is a reliable source, right? They were childhood friends after all).

Sylvain tries his best to jump into the conversation and pull some of the attention to himself, but Hilda is every bit as smooth of a talker as Claude is; deftly maneuvering the conversation back to Felix no matter what Sylvain does.

This time, it is Felix that reaches for Sylvain’s hand under the table.

Except instead of just holding Sylvain’s hand, Felix starts to pull at it every time Mercedes or Hilda asks him a question, as if pleading for his friend to save him.

At least Claude could now say for sure that Felix is not, and never was, a fan of being the center of attention.

When the first afternoon bell tolls signaling the end of lunch, Felix’s stew remains uneaten and untouched. On the way out of the hall, Claude looks the other way and pretends not to notice when Sylvain steals an apple from the pantry.

His experiment doesn’t exactly succeed, but he cannot write it off as a failure either. The information gathered from his two observation sessions is plentiful and a solution is forming within his mind even as he makes his way up to the war room to meet Byleth for their afternoon strategy session.

By the time he pushes open the door to his usual haunt, Claude is absolutely certain of two truths.

One, that Sylvain knows Felix better than anyone could ever hope to compare, and two, Felix Fraldarius is incredibly lucky to have an attentive best friend like Sylvain because stars above, does he suck with using his words.

----

When the hour before dinner time rolls around, Claude makes sure to talk to everyone he passes by and give them the order that no one is to approach Felix and Sylvain’s tables at mealtimes anymore. He tells them to pass the word around and it doesn’t take long before the entire monastery is in the know of their Leader’s command.

“Care for company?” Byleth smiles and sets her tray down beside his own without waiting for a reply.

Claude does a quick survey of the area to make sure no one is looking before leaning in to land a quick peck on Byleth’s cheek. Joy flutters in his stomach at her rising blush and he merely laughs and winks at her stuttered protests.

“Check it out,” Claude quickly changes the subject and nods his head over to where Bernadetta sits exhausted with a now cheerful Felix and Sylvain. The latter nodding enthusiastically to their conversation with the occasional laugh and both of their plates near devoid of food.

A tiny rush of pride swells when he sees the relived expression on Byleth’s face.

“Told ya I’d take care of it.”

Underneath the table, he flips his palm facing upward so that he can intertwine his fingers with her searching ones.

“Yes, you did.” The unspoken thanks lingers in the air between them, louder than the constant buzz of activity in the room.

For the first time in a while, the former professor looks more at ease. And Claude, being the shit stirrer that he is, cannot help but toss a little fuel into the fire.

“So… who do you think will wear white at the wedding? Between the two of them, I think Felix is the better choice.”

“What?!”

----

4. Felix has an unwavering faith and belief in Sylvain that he’s not afraid to stubbornly stand by to the bitter end.

“Annie, are you sure this is a good idea?”

If Mercedes is concerned, then Lysithea is absolutely certain that no, this is most definitely not a good idea.

They are at the part of the training grounds where the various magic users can come to practice and hone their spells. The ground is singed with charred marks from stray thunder and fire spells, the black streaks contrasting starkly with the pale stone underneath. To the side, there is also a sand pit where mages can practice some more destructive flame based spells.

“I’m just a little curious, is all!” Annette whispers back. “I know Sylvain is really good with magic even though he never uses it. He was the one who helped me understand that magic formula that I was stuck on for a week, after all. I was thinking maybe he might show an aptitude for Reason as a child.”

“That’s fine and all; but I’m not really sure how safe it is to teach a child how to conjure a fire spell. That just seems like a recipe for disaster.”

The orange hair mage cannot help but look slightly put out by Lysithea’s comment.

Yes, maybe it wasn’t the safest idea ever… but Annette just really wants to find out the extent of Sylvain’s inherent abilities. Even after she makes him promise to take his training more seriously, she still feels like he is holding back on her when they are paired together.

“What kinda magic are you gonna show us?” Felix is eager and bouncing on his toes. The House Fraldarius specializes in swordplay, not magic, so this is a treat for him and he can barely contain his excitement.

“Oh well, I was thinking we could start off with a basic fire spell!”

“Oooh, fire!”

Annette really hopes that Felix doesn’t have a penchant for pyrotechnics.

As much of a bad idea as this is, Lysithea can’t exactly bring herself to leave them in case something goes terribly wrong. She is the strongest, most advanced Gremory the Resistance Army has; with her around, she’s confident that the worst that could happen would be some singed eyebrows and possibly an impromptu need for a haircut. But even that is an outcome that she is hoping to avoid.

Once the target is set up, Sylvain and Felix eagerly make their way over to the sidelines to watch Annette demonstrate a basic fire spell.

It’s nothing special really. Even the older Felix and Sylvain could probably cast it without much problem, but to their younger versions, the small ball of fire is so grand and spectacular that it warrants oo’s and ah’s and enthusiastic applause.

“Wow! That is so cool! Isn’t that so cool, Sylvain?”

Felix is pulling on Sylvain’s sleeve and the older boy nods emphatically with admiration shining in his eyes.

“Do you think you could do it too?”

Lysithea is startled to hear the question Felix asks Sylvain. Of course, Annette was already planning to ask the Gautier boy to attempt the spell, but that was out of curiosity.

From the shining look on Felix’s face, Lysithea knows that he is asking because in his mind, there is nothing that his smart, talented best friend in the whole wide world cannot do.

“Magic is difficult to learn and takes time. It can take years for some to learn just the basics.” She cuts in before Sylvain can answer.

She doesn’t want Felix to unwittingly trap him with an unrealistic expectation that he cannot meet and she figures it is better to disappoint him now rather than allow the red head to try and then feel guilty when he disappoints his friend.

“Sylvain is smart. I bet Sylvain could do it!”

Felix is pouting in that way that they are all quickly learning means ‘I’m right and you can’t convince me otherwise’.

“I’m sure Sylvain is very smart!” Mercedes agrees and gives the boys her best placating smile. “But I’m not so sure that a person could learn how to cast a Fire spell in one day! Why, it took Annie and I at least a week of practicing before we could do it!”

“Yep, I remember I almost burned my eyebrows off the first time I tried! But I can teach you the basics maybe and then we can bring you here again next time to practice?”

The urge to verbally reprimand the warlock for her relentless pursuit to satisfy her own curiosity rises and Lysithea has to physically clutch her biceps to stop herself from bursting.

Fine. If they were so eager to set themselves down this path, then so be it.

“Yeah!” Felix is literally vibrating with excitement and Sylvain looks nervous but determined to not let his admirer down.

Heaving a sigh, Lysithea moves to settle next to Mercedes who sends her an apologetic smile.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

----

Unsurprisingly, Felix does not do so well with learning the basics.

The diagrams and symbols are a little too much on the side of complex and it becomes apparent rather quickly that there is a reason the Fraldarius men carve through the battlefield with swords instead of magic.

“Aw, it’s okay Fe! You’re still the best with a sword anyways. You don’t need magic!” Sylvain ruffles his hair and smiles. “You’ll always beat me at swordplay.”

The small admission is enough to cheer Felix up and after a bit more nudging from the older boy, he runs off to play around with the wooden practice swords they have on the other side of the training room while Annette and Sylvain continue to work on creating basic magic circles.

It’s only after the third hour and Mercedes has long left to attend to various chores that Lysithea turns to watch Felix go through rather crude sword forms instead.

“You need to spread your feet farther apart.” Using her own foot, she nudges Felix’s left heel to the side to widen his stance. “Try striking again now.”

The wooden sword wobbles a bit in its trajectory, but the swing is undoubtedly much better than before. The sheer delight that lights up in Felix’s eyes almost makes Lysithea laugh out loud because she recognizes it as the same gleam she sees in the older Felix’s eyes when he executes a particularly hard maneuver.

“Why aren’t you watching Sylvain and Annie?”

For a five year old, Felix is incredibly perceptive.

Rather than lie to him, Lysithea opts for honesty because she is sure that’s what older Felix would have wanted.

“I don’t think he’ll succeed.”

Felix frowns. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know how hard it is to learn magic. I’m sure Sylvain is very intelligent, but it takes a lot of hard work to use Reason.”

“Sylvain can do it. I know he can.”

She sighs and turns a baleful eye down at Felix. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you.”

“Glenn said that to me too when he didn’t believe me that I could stay up all night waiting for Sylvain.”

“And did you prove him wrong?”

Felix turns to full face her, expression full of gravity.

“Yup.” The dead seriousness of his tone looses Lysithea’s first laugh of the day and she cannot help but be drawn towards this little boy, the same way she was drawn to his older self.

Deigning not to continue a lost conversation, the cake loving Gremory opts to turn back and watch the progress that the other two have made, leaving Felix muttering to himself about his steadfast belief in his best friend.

----

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

The sun is setting and it is nearly time for dinner by the time Sylvain and Annette break away from Magic and Sorcery: Vol 1. to actually put some practice to the theory they have spent all day studying.

“Now, don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get it.” Annette says while moving out of the way. “You did just learn the basics and it takes a lot of practice!”

Lysithea has not moved from her perch from a nearby bench. She’s still extremely skeptical that Sylvain will manage to do very much at all. Yes, it is true that he had a budding talent for Reason during their academy days, but Sylvain hardly ever applied himself to any of his studies. The professor had to literally force him to attend one on one magic lessons with her before his aptitude for spells finally emerged.

Although, she muses, this younger Sylvain seems to be more enthusiastic to participate in things he was interested in. Even now, the scrunched up look of concentration on his face is indication enough that the Sylvain Lysithea is used to is a much different creature than the one before her currently.

House Ordelia does not really have any established trade routes with the Gautier territory, but the Ordelia heir has heard enough to know that the current Margrave is an arrogant, crest-obsessed prick.

It doesn’t take a prodigy to connect the dots and surmise that Sylvain’s carefree attitude and refusal to apply himself to anything is a product of his father’s suffocating expectations.

Fuck Margrave Gautier.

Maybe Lysithea does want Sylvain to prove her wrong and succeed; then at least he can go back home and light his father’s breeches on fire.

She’s only slightly disappointed when her expectations prove correct and the best Sylvain can conjure is one tiny flicker from a lone flame in his hand. However, it is still much more than she thought Sylvain would be able to do and for that, she is genuinely impressed.

Annette is also very much awestruck with Sylvain’s quick learning and happily informs the boy of this all the way to the dining hall. Sylvain is uncharacteristically quiet as he listens to the older mage praise him, but he is not yet skilled enough in the art of hiding behind a mask and the slight downward tilt of his lips does not go unnoticed.

“You really did an amazing job learning so much in such a short time, Sylvain! Don’t be too disappointed that you couldn’t do it.”

Sylvain gives a weak smile in return, but it is Felix who ultimately responds; one hand clasped tightly in the Gautier’s and the other one balled into a fist.

“Sylvain can do it. Just watch.”

----

Dinner passes without much fanfare and the boys are eventually tucked in for the night. Claude and Byleth have long decided that a full-time night chaperone is no longer necessary; although occasionally, one of their friends will peek into the room in the dead of night before they retire, but very rarely do they find anything wrong that requires their attention. A week has already passed with no incident, so there should be no need to exhaust their soldiers by keeping them up at night.

Except this time, when Petra nudges the door to their room open – being extremely careful not to open it too fast lest the hinges squeak – she does not see any sign of Felix or Sylvain anywhere.

It is the dead of night, but Garreg Mach Monastery blazes alive with a flurry of panic at the toll of the emergency bell.

“You’re absolutely sure no one saw them leave their room?”

Seteth slams his palms on the table and interrogates the night shift guards; his brows furrowed and mind racing a mile a minute.

If the enemy has somehow managed to sneak into Garreg Mach and kidnap the children, then they are well and truly fucked. They may have to abandon their home base or at the very least do an extensive investigation of their current ranks and re-evaluate their current passive defense.

“There were no signs that a struggle was happening.” Petra voices from her place around the war table. “I am having confidence that they left with willingness.”

“Goddess, please keep them safe.” The situation leaves a bad taste in Flayn’s mouth; it is much too reminiscent of when she was kidnapped and although it has been years since the incident, the memories still plague her.

Byleth’s voice leaves no room for discussion, “everyone split up and search the grounds. Most of our facilities are locked up at night so that should help limit the number of places we need to search.”

Everyone dashes out of the room with their orders and branch off at the second floor corridor. Those once belonging to the Black Eagle house comb through the main hall while the former Blue Lion students check all surrounding independent buildings; the Golden Deer fanning out to cover the outdoor grounds of the monastery.

An hour passes. Then another. And another.

Soon it is 3 in the morning and the panic is truly beginning to set in, giving rise to an unsettling fear clawing its way up from the depths of the night.

“Dimitri, Dedue! Have you found anything?” Ingrid pants and skids to a halt just below the stairs to the Sauna; the rest of her Blue Lion classmates run up to join her and debrief their findings.

“Nothing,” Dedue’s tone is flat as usual but his strangled expression is enough to betray his underlying worry. “We have searched all the open buildings and the grounds. There is no sign of them at all.”

Annette is near tears now and Mercedes places a hand on her shoulder, offering her silent support even while she herself is fiddling with her shawl, an attempt to keep her mind occupied before it spirals.

“It’s not like them to run away,” Ashe frowns. “Did anything happen today? Were they acting weird at all?”

“Not really. All we did was practice magic at the training grounds.”

Mercedes frowns. “Perhaps they left something there and went back to retrieve it?”

“The training grounds should be locked at 11PM. No one should be able to get in or out until sunrise.” Dimitri shakes his head.

“Well then we’re clearly running out of ideas here!” Ingrid throws up her hands in frustration and rakes them through her hair which is on the verge of looking like a bird’s nest. “We’ve checked the dining hall and the greenhouse but –“

“Your Majesty.” Dedue’s raised voice cuts Ingrid short and they look over to see the doors to the training grounds swing open slowly with a slight push of the man’s hands. “The doors were not locked as we thought.”

It takes only a heartbeat for them to scramble through the large wooden doors and down the hallway, their rushed footsteps echoing like thunder in the stone corridor.

“Oh Goddess. I smell smoke. Does anyone else smell smoke?” If her heartbeat accelerates any more, Annette is pretty sure she will have a heart attack.

“It’s coming from over there!” Their King leads the charge towards the magical training arena where the smell of smoke is the thickest.

When they burst into the open area, they are prepared for the worst. Weapons are drawn and hands raised with spells on the tips of tongues, but the sight they are greeted with is enough to shock them into stasis.

There in the middle of the sandpit, hunched over and panting hard, albeit with a brilliant grin on his face, is Sylvain. The practice dummy a few feet in front of him is alit with flames, illuminating the room with an orange glow, casting shadows along the stone walls that flicker like a live audience.

And off to the side bundled up in a woolen teal blanket that they all recognize, is a tired, but extremely proud looking Felix Fraldarius staring directly at the newcomers.

“I told you he could do it!”

----

5. Sylvain has given Felix all the pieces of his fragile, fractured heart, even if he isn’t aware he possesses it.

Although once his greatest secret, Ignatz no longer hides his passion for art from his fellow Resistance Army members.

It’s not uncommon these days for people to find him at random places in the monastery with his art supplies sketching away at preserving a moment in time on blank paper forevermore.

Today, he is sitting on a bench next to a large oak tree, just a stone’s throw away from the main grounds. Beneath the shade and tucked between two large roots lie Sylvain and Felix, both completely tuckered out from their earlier attempts at climbing the towering tree. Sylvain is starfished on the ground with his arms stretched wide; to his left, Felix lays curled away from him with his head pillowed on the outstretched limb.

Sylvain and Felix have been the talk of the monastery for the past week and it is pretty obvious why. It’s not every day that you see two high ranking generals revert back to their child forms. Especially the most notorious bother-me-and-I’ll-bite-your-head-off and if-it-breathes-I’ll-flirt-with-it Generals to boot.

Of course, stories of their shenanigans and troublemaking usually fill the daily meal conversations, but there is one topic that floats above all else; the one that makes the maids in the kitchen giggle and even the burliest of knights crack a smile:

It is clear that even from a young age, Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius are absolutely smitten with each other.

The two are inseparable and Ignatz is pretty sure that even a blind man would be able to see the absolute trust and unspoken devotion they have towards each other.

Ignatz has spent the day watching Felix and Sylvain, not just because it’s his turn to babysit, but also because he is fascinated with their bond. He had once thought that the Goddess was the most beautiful thing in the world, but the rawness and purity of their relationship fills him with more piety and awe than any portrait or statue of Sothis ever did.

It is like they are two parts of a well-oiled machine. Where one gives way, the other will step in to fill the gap; whenever Sylvain’s insecurities flare up, Felix is always there to chase the demons away with clumsy words and a physical display of affection, using his own body to ground his best friend and keep him close. Likewise, whenever tears well up in the youngest Fraldarius’ eyes (which is unfortunately quite often), Sylvain is there to wipe away the salty tracks and light up Felix’s heart with a smile warmer and brighter than sunshine.

Ignatz’s original plans were to draw the oak tree and the beautiful meadow of primrose flowers, but it seems that there will be a last minute change in muse.

Taking up his piece of charcoal, he begins the outline of what he thinks will be his fondest work to date.

Ignatz doesn’t know how long he spends sitting on that bench hunched over his sketchbook in silence with only the occasional birdsong floating through the silence. It’s so calm and peaceful that he doesn’t even notice that Sylvain has begun to stir until he looks up to find one of his subjects in a different position.

Leonie had warned him that Sylvain has a tendency towards nightmares. She had discovered that unfortunate fact in the first three days when each time she tip-toed into their room to check up on them, she found Sylvain wide awake with wild terror in his eyes and a sleepy Felix clinging to him comfortingly.

Strangely enough, Sylvain also does not startle awake from his nightmares. Instead, he slowly rouses himself as if from a deep sleep and if it weren’t for the glaze of lingering fear in his eyes, none would be able to tell that he had just woken up from a night terror.

That same glazed look is now flickering rapidly around him as if searching for the shadow of a monster that exists only within his mind.

“Sylvain…?”

Wild brown eyes finally settle on steady molten amber ones.

“Fe.”

“It’s okay, Sylvain. I’m here...”

Felix yawns and shuffles around until he is half wrapped around Sylvain with his left hand settling over Sylvain’s pounding heart.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you…” Small hands curl around the material of Sylvain’s shirt in a death grip. Felix’s loyalty and protectiveness so painfully evident even when the boy himself is half asleep. He manages to cling to the realm of the conscious for a little while longer, until the rapid thump thump thump of Sylvain’s heart slows to a steady lulling rhythm, pulling Felix back down under the veil of sleep.

Ignatz has silently watched this entire exchange and to be honest, he’s not really sure that Sylvain or Felix even remember that he is here with them. He cannot bring himself to make his presence known, so he continues to watch and observe.

He watches as the fear that was once in Sylvain’s eyes slowly recede again, the monsters inside his head vanquished in the company of his best friend. It only takes one more glance at the boy cuddled up to him with a hand protectively hovered over his heart to melt away the chains that bind him to the expectations of the people around him.

Here under this oak tree in a field of blooming young love, there is no crest or Miklan or nobility. There is only Felix and Sylvain.

Sylvain holds onto that truth as he wraps his free arm around the younger boy, tucking him more securely under his chin, letting the cool summer breeze lull him back to a dreamless sleep.

Ignatz pulls out a new page and starts a fresh outline. It takes him a little longer than anticipated to finish his drawing, but he figures it’s not such a bad thing since he likes this new version much better.

Later, as he trails after the now energetic boys back towards the monastery, Ignatz tucks his newest masterpiece securely under his arm, being very careful not to smudge the drawing or crease the paper.

After all, Claude did mention something about a wedding and Ignatz thinks that his drawing will make a fine gift.

----

Bonus: They’re just two idiots in love.

“Go away. Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my meal?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Felix! You know, the younger you was much cuter. Definitely less prickly, too.” Dorothea pokes his cheek and snatches her hand away before Felix can stab it with his steak knife.

It’s been roughly a week since Felix and Sylvain have returned to their normal sizes, the dark magic having run its course and fizzling out without so much as a final spark. To the rest of the Army, this is a joyous occasion as it means that two of their best generals are now back to normal and can command them again. But to the last class of the academy… it is bittersweet.

Of course, they want their friends to return to normal. But that also means that Felix will go back to hissing and spitting with all the fury of a spooked cat and Sylvain will go back to seducing any individual that makes eye contact with him for longer than half a second.

“Better do as he says, Thea. Felix’s looking extra grumpy today and we wouldn’t want you to lose a pretty little finger.” Sylvain winks at her as he sets down his own meal and settles in the seat across from the swordsman.

The opera singer snorts, “right back to the flirting as usual. Save your hollow words for some other girl.”

“Ouch. Give a guy a break! I just recovered from a dark magic spell after all. Doesn’t that warrant some pity?”

“The only pity is that you immediately lost all your innocent and cute appeal when you reverted back to your regular body.”

Felix scowls at them, “if you insist on continuing your flirting, I’ll just eat my meal elsewhere.” He moves to stand but Sylvain is quicker and grabs his wrist, preventing him from moving.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just stay, okay? Please? For me, Fe?”

Sylvain is looking at Felix with that expression which he knows he cannot resist and Dorothea takes this opportunity to slip away while the two engage in a silent conversation with only their eyes.

“Fine.”

Their meal continues with little fanfare and easy conversation. Around them, their old classmates are scattered in their own little groups and if they notice, none of them mentions anything about how everyone seems to avoid sitting at Felix and Sylvain’s table.

Easy conversation flows into dessert, or more specifically: Felix wordlessly giving Sylvain his peach sorbet and Sylvain beaming a rare genuine smile and promising to join him at the training grounds first thing tomorrow morning.

The sun is slowly dipping below the horizon when Sylvain and Felix gather up their dishes. On their way out of the dining hall, Ignatz stops them with a heartfelt congratulations and a bundled up package that looks suspiciously like one of his works.

“Congratulations? For what?” Artfully tousled red hair shifts as Sylvain tilts his head in confusion and reluctantly accepts the gift.

“O-oh, well Claude just said…”

Dread rises up from the pit of Felix’s stomach. “What did that schemer say this time?”

“…He said that you two were getting married.”

“What?!”

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dameferre · 5 years ago

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ok. i would say no one asked for this, but mel @montparnasse blatantly did and enables every step into madness i take but it started getting way too long for a message

and since. y’know. the world is a flaming shitheap i’ve recently found a coping mechanism in tiktok bc i’m lame as hell. & if you, like i was, are a millenial who downloaded the app just to see a bunch of white teenagers and awful str*ight people, i thought i’d provide a starter kit of lgbt creators and creators of colour for people to follow so the tiktok algorythm will get the hint that you don’t wanna see that kinda shit. bc there’s a lot of quality content on tiktok! you just gotta dig a bit

so. here we go. les amis as people i fuckin follow on tiktok bc WHY NOT (under the cut bc it takes up Way too much space on the dash)

combeferre: mistercapehart. a Beautiful black member of the lgbt community and 7th grade teacher with a smile that makes FLOWERS GROW. evidence: a combeferre character study and just like. the best possible teacher/dad vibes need i say more

bahorel: iambeckydee. yes, this was a thirst follow. would you not thirst follow a real-life bahorel? that’s what the fuck i thought. she’s hot, she’s gay, she’s well-spoken, she’s well-dressed, she’s a goddess. evidence: fashion, babey and too hot and body positive for your nonsense

marius: higashipat. curly haired trans icon of my heart. a goddamn gift and a grade-A cutie who deserves the world. just a source of hilarity and joy evidence: marius vibes and more marius vibes and marius being friends with courfeyrac vibes

cosette: killinggf AND fatraco0n for the same damn reasons. they’re both black and some of the most beautiful women ive ever seen in my entire gd life. sources of positivity and light and love but they’re not afraid to call out bullshit. they make life worth living tbh. evidence: killinggf- how bout we just. be nice to people. and actually if i think about cosette and watch this i cry so | fatraco0n- va!lid!da!tion! and the Best energy

eponine: dontacallmeshe. the hot nonbinary lesbian of my dreams. they don’t take shit, always look fucking Amazing, they’re just a fucking icon. evidence: they’re so fuckin valid and marius found dead in miami and did i mention they’re so fuckin valid

feuilly: silly.oldbear. just a stunningly beautiful lgbt girl who’s artistic, and talented, and opinionated, and just all around a delight. idk what more to say evidence: beautiful and taken lmao and the cutest damn shit i’ve ever seen and artful thinkin’

jehan: msalwaysdifferent. somehow embodies every interpretation of jehan i’ve ever had. just an all around beautiful human being evidence: the most soothing voice in the world shows you some plants and fashion, babey!

courfeyrac: emoprettyboy. this one was honestly kinda hard bc i wasnt sensing strong courf vibes from Anyone but hear me out. the self-proclaimed ‘hair of tiktok’. bi, poc (asian), former athlete who lives to piss off bigots and make people smile. also makes like four tiktoks a minute bc loves that sweet attention evidence: vibe until you die, bro and i just like fashion videos this is obvious and some courf vibes

musichetta: rea1le. lbh we get approx. 2 sentences about chetta in the brick so i can make up my own damn interpretations. she’s hot, she’s black, she’s funny, i love her. what more do u want from me evidence: when u sexy and lbh chetta’s a kinsey 5 who happened to find two exceptions to the rule and a literal angel blessing you with common sense

bossuet: okaynkay. just some hot, casually alcoholic, unlucky gay vibes. i dunno what more you could ask for really. evidence: a respectable tactic and Strongest of bossuet vibes

joly: cowgirl.dyke. i had a hard time w/ joly (kaithebug was my first choice but the acct is private) too but she’s gay. she’s adorable. she has the unconventional taste in clothing and weird fucking earrings that are Integral to a joly evidence: draw four, bitch and what a wonderful kind of day

grantaire: jeeshthepeesh. gay white boy with strong meth-head vibes who loves the sound of his own voice and is honestly hilarious evidence: dead inside and grantaire vibes and i watched this video 50 times in abject horror

enjolras wouldn’t have a tiktok lmao and i couldn’t find anyone beautiful and opinionated enough. so.

few more tiktokkers i adore but couldn’t fit and can’t be bothered to link (i’ve done enough): thelonliestwolf / griffinmaxwellbrooks / everydaylaw / alluringskull / gookoosh2020 / keatsdidit / alaskan.boii / sybil.kappert /

#love how i said bahorel was a thirst follow.... they're ALL thirst follows #what am i doing with my life in quarantine we Just don't know #anyway. here we are.#tiktok buries creators of colours and lgbt creators so hype them tf up i say #les amis #t.t #for the love of god elle go to sleep

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honeybearloco · 5 years ago

Text

― “...Every Word.”

title → “...every word.”

pairing → gray x female reader.

synopsis → gray and his idol girlfriend (who is the little sister of THE g-dragon) are in an on-again, off-again relationship.

word count → 1.9k.

a/n → ngl,, i would die for gray. and i guess all the people who follow this blog stan gd and really wanna be his sister or sumn sksksksk i don’t think this was completely the request, im sorry !!

“We broke up.”

“AGAIN?! Y/N! OH MY GOD! LET HIM GO!” Your friend, (Friend’s Name) shouted, throwing a pillow at you.

“OUCH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“That was for dealing with this shit for how many years with this fucker now? Like three years?”

You huffed, covering your head with the pillow letting out a groan, “It’s been four years!”

She rolled her eyes, sitting next to you on your bed, grabbing the pillow to make you look up at her. You could already see the disappointed look in her face. You didn’t blame her for being disappointed.

She’s been your best friend since the two of you were kids. She didn’t want you to be hurt like this, and your “relationship” with Sunghwa was hurting you as well as him.

For 4 years now, you had been in an on-again and off-again relationship with Sunghwa. While girls your age were now either looking for a life partner to settle down with or starting to have kids, you didn’t want that.

You didn’t even want an actual relationship.

Despite your parents’ pleas for you to find someone to settle down with, you continued doing what you love, performing. Performing became your life, as it has always been since you were younger.

Being THE G-Dragon’s little sister always seems to put you in the light for whatever you had done. Even if it was simply going to a restaurant or park or even taking a walk by yourself. All eyes were on you.

Following in your brother’s footsteps, you had begun auditioning in companies at a young age. You took on SM Entertainment as that was the first place your brother auditioned, and you wanted to train alongside him.

You were accepted on your first attempt and became a trainee. Four years into your training period, Jiyong had left to go to YG. You had wanted to follow him, but he refused to let you, making you stay at SM.

Years later in 2006, Jiyong officially debuted as a member of BIGBANG under YG Entertainment. And then in the beginning of 2007, you officially debuted as a soloist under SM Entertainment.

While your concepts were completely different, many continued to draw parallels between the two of you.

During the stage of your first win, you were in tears and Jiyong had gone up to hug you, which sparked the interest of many. Seeing all the weird things people were saying, Jiyong had confirmed that you were his sister and his sister ONLY.

The two of you were known for your close relationship, which was why whenever Jiyong did something on TV, he was always asked about you. Whenever you did something on TV, you were always asked about him. The two of you were inseparable and have always been.

Your career was your lover. Your career was your baby. You didn’t have time for a relationship, and as mentioned earlier you didn’t want one. But you had needs. Netizens were breathing down your neck just to find something on you. Because you’re an unproblematic queen.

A dating scandal isn’t what you needed.

Then you met Sunghwa. On the night of the anniversary of your debut, you had gone to a club with your friend just to relax a bit, as you had been working hard on something for your fans. You really needed a break.

You saw him across the bar. You had seen his face around. You had known who he was. He didn’t? He was an amazing artist. You couldn’t help but introduce yourself. You at least wanted some kind of collab.

The looks of things, he knew you too. The two of you exchanged contact information and went from there.

It was then rumored to the public that the two of you might be working on a song together, and they weren’t too far off. That’s where it started...eventually becoming more than that.

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say Sunghwa was a very attractive man. He was too hot for his own good.

One night, the two of you had gotten a little too drunk in the studio. One thing led to another and the next morning, you found yourself in his bare chest in your naked glory.

It was only supposed to happen one time.

But of course that it didn’t stop. He wanted you, he craved you, as you did him, beginning the on-again-off-again relationship the two of you have. It’s been like this for four years.

You’re together, everything is going well and then someone says something that pisses you off and everything falls apart and you break up. You had lost count of how many times you and Sunghwa OFFICIALLY ended things only to get back together the next week.

Now here you sat, with your best friend by your side, upset over your umpteenth breakup with Sunghwa that happened just yesterday.

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself. It’s like the both of you want to be with each other but then you don’t because you’re scared or something,” She mentioned.

You sighed, pulling the pillow back over your head, “He doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me.”

“Are you blind? Sunghwa has been dedicated to you and you only for 4 years now. Even when you guys broke up several times, he never ever even looked at another girl. If anything, Sunghwa fucking loves you.”

“Who the hell told you that?” You questioned, your voice kind of muffled by the pillow.

“Jay, of course.”

“Since when do you listen to Jay? I thought you hated him. What happened?”

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest, “I do hate him but I still listen to him...even though he’s the most annoying man to walk the planet. And Jay told me that all Sunghwa talks about is you, making you happy, hanging out with you, collabing with you. He’s fucking in love with you and you still don’t see it.”

You uncovered your face once more, looking at her, “That’s a lie. Sunghwa doesn’t want a relationship with anyone just as much as I don’t want one.”

“You’re right, he doesn’t want a relationship with anyone. He wants one with you, and you’re not just anyone, Y/N. Hell the boy wrote several songs about you. And don’t try to say they aren’t about you, because they are. And you’ve wrote several songs about him.”

Before you could speak, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone and bringing it to your face to see Jay’s name appear across the screen with a text, “Speak of the fucking devil.”

‘Baby GD, did something happen between you and Sunghwa?’ His text read.

‘We broke up, why?’ You replied back, waiting for Jay’s response. Worry filled your mind. Jay hadn’t always texted you about Sunghwa, let alone text you asking if something happened out of the blue.

Was he okay?

Did something happen?

Was he hurt?

“Y/N, you okay?” F/N asked. Before you could speak, Jay had responded. You looked down at the message, ‘He locked himself in his studio and he hasn’t been out in hours. We’re kinda worried about him.’

You had known what that meant. Sunghwa didn’t lock himself in his studio unless he was TRULY sad or angry.

‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

You climbed out of bed quickly, throwing on a jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“Sunghwa has locked himself in the studio again. I gotta go see him.”

“There you go again,” She sighed.

Annoyed, you turned to her with a worried expression on his face, “F/N, Sunghwa has locked himself in the studio, and no one knows how long he has been in there. The last time he did that, he didn’t eat for almost two days and almost passed out! I’m not letting him do that to himself again. I can’t, especially when it’s my fault. I need to go check on him.”

You grabbed your phone and bag, heading out of the room, leaving your friend in your apartment.

She shouted behind you, “MAKE SURE TO TELL HIM HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HIM!”

“NO PROMISES!”

You hopped in your car, heading to AOMG in a rush, but of course obeying the traffic laws.

You arrived shortly, AOMG wasn’t too far from where you had lived.

You parked your car and rushed inside, to see Jay waiting for you at the door.

“There you are, Baby G-Dragon. So what happened?”

“I’ll explain later. I just need to see him right now,” You replied, bypassing him, heading straight toward Sunghwa’s studio, slamming your fist on the door repeatedly, “Lee Sunghwa! Open the door!”

“Y/N?” His sweet voice chimed on the other side of the door. “Yes, it’s me. Now open the door!”

A few seconds of silence sounded before the sound of the door unlocking. The door opened to reveal Sunghwa with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, his hair was all over his head. He wore a grey hoodie and sweatpants, not caring what he had looked like in that moment. “Jay texted you, didn’t he?”

“Sunghwa, you look horrible.”

“Thanks for making me feel better,” He groaned, leaning against the door frame.

You pushed him further into the studio, closing the door behind you, noticing how dark it was. You turned on the light, “We’ve called it quits plenty of times before, why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know. I guess...this one just really hurt. I thought it was going to be the end of us. I don’t want it to be the end of us,” He confessed, his eyes twinkling.

“Answer me this,” You started, making his ear perk up, “Lee Sunghwa, tell me how you truly feel about me, about us, about this. I want to hear every word.”

Without hesitation, he answered, “I love you, Y/N. I have for a long time now and I can’t get over it. I know we’ve both said that we don’t want a relationship, but with you it’s different. You’re different. We’re different. I...can’t be without you. Just the thought of you with someone who isn’t me hurts. I know how your company is. I know you need to maintain your good reputation and you wouldn’t risk it for a guy like me, but I―”

You cut him off, taking his soft face into your gentle hands, smashing your lips onto his in a passionate kiss. Without wasting a second, he relaxed against your lips, allowing his hands to snake around your waist gently.

You slowly pulled away, your eyes opening as had his. He stared into yours with admiration and love.

“I love you too, Sunghwa. I...I want things between us to work. I want us to work. I don’t just want to have you, I want to hold you, love you, kiss you, hug you. I want you all to myself,” You confessed, pressing your forehead against his.

You continued, “I want to lay in your chest on raining days and relax. I want to hear your heartbeat as I lay on your chest as you sleep. I want to make sure you are okay, every second of every day. I meant it when I said I love you.”

“I mean it too,” He smiled.

“So.”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” The two of you asked at the same time. The two of you giggled.

“I asked first!”

“Nuh-uh, me!”

“No me!”

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