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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 10 months ago

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By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Feb 15, 2024

How do we argue with those who are incapable of argumentation? This is a question I’ve been grappling with for some time. If your child is demanding sweets before dinner, screaming like a banshee and committing various acts of domestic vandalism, you have few options. You might attempt to initiate a debate, outlining the pros and cons of ingesting unhealthy food in advance of a nutritious meal, but this strategy will invariably fail. In the end, you’ll just have to tell the little brat to shut up and do what he’s told. Or, better still, avoid having children in the first place.

Many of us will have experienced something similar on Twitter (or X, if you insist). Something about the platform has the effect of curdling the sweetest Dr Jekylls into the most repugnant of Mr Hydes. And when someone just bleats insults, or mischaracterises your views, or generally cannot engage in good faith, the best thing to do is to block them. You don’t owe anyone your time and attention, and you’ll only drive yourself insane trying to reason with the unreasonable. Most clever adages end up being attributed to Mark Twain whether he wrote them or not, and this one is no exception: “Never wrestle with a pig; you just get dirty and the pig enjoys it”.

One of the best things about withdrawing from Twitter is that I am no longer bombarded by complaints that my blocking people on the platform proves that my commitment to free speech is inauthentic. The typical tactic is to screenshot the cover of my book Free Speech and Why It Matters as a kind of “gotcha” to illustrate my hypocrisy. And while I am grateful for the publicity, it does get rather tedious having to explain this most common and basic of misapprehensions. The podcaster Stephen Knight put it rather succinctly: “Someone implying that being blocked on Twitter is somehow a violation of their free speech is the fastest way you can tell people you don’t understand free speech.” Instead of smugly posting images of my book, perhaps they ought to read it instead.

In a surreal twist, my blocking habits on Twitter recently made the news. Just after Christmas, an article by Pierra Willix was published in the Metro with the headline: “Confusion as GB News presenter who champions ‘free speech’ blocks critics”. In truth, I have never blocked anyone for polite criticism; I welcome it. And while it goes without saying that nobody expects factual accuracy from the Metro, we should be concerned that an individual who aspires to make a living in journalism does not appear to understand the concept of free speech.

Willix has fallen for what Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay have called “the fallacy of demanding to be heard”. They make the point that just as freedom of religion incorporates freedom from religion, the right to speak and listen also entails the right not to speak and listen. If you’ve ever received an unwelcome phone call and hung up, you have not impeded on the caller’s rights. If you choose not to read my books, I cannot claim to have been censored. If you block someone on social media, all it means is that you’re not interested in what they’ve got to say. I’ve been blocked by hundreds of people online and, although this clearly reflects poorly on their taste and judgement, my freedom of speech remains intact.

Permit me to suggest a workable rule of thumb when it comes to blocking online. Just imagine if someone came up to you on the street and exclaimed: “You’re an evil ugly Nazi and you should be thrown into a live volcano”. (I’m paraphrasing one of my more disgruntled critics.) Now what would you do in that situation? Would you…

Stop for a moment and say: “Goodness, that’s an interesting point of view. Let’s discuss that a little more, shall we? Perhaps over a glass of crème de menthe?”

Walk away.

If you opt for the latter, that’s the equivalent of the block on social media. Blocking is not censorship. It’s the difference between choosing to cover one’s own ears or forcibly stopping someone else’s mouth.

There are many other good reasons to block. I generally block those who throw insults, post threats or libel, assume bad faith, or those who tell me that they know what I am secretly thinking. These amateur telepaths are remarkably common on social media. Total strangers have variously informed me that I am a men’s rights activist, a white nationalist, a Tory voter and a raging homophobe. All of these happen to be the precise opposite of the truth, but since my detractors speak with the certainty of Old Testament prophets, their lies tend to gain traction. I’ve even been told that I’m being funded by “dark money”. This money must be very dark indeed, given that I have never actually seen any of it.

If one wishes to avoid being drawn into endless arguments with these fantasists, many of whom seem to believe that the promotion of liberal values is some kind of “far-right dog-whistle”, blocking is a sensible option. But even if you were to block someone on a whim – for overusing emojis, or being a Sagittarius, or because they can’t spell “parallelogram” – this would be your prerogative. I have started blocking those who claim that blocking is a threat to their free speech. Not that I’m intolerant of the intellectually challenged, it’s just that I prefer to keep them off my timeline. Call it quality control.

Another option is to mute the worst offenders, but of course this does leave you open to malicious campaigns of mass reporting. In addition, there is a certain species of online troll that feels no compunction in posting libellous tweets wherever possible. Although muting them means that you will never have to see it, they are still able to use your tweets as a springboard to defame and smear. Why give them the satisfaction?

In the midst of pile-ons, I have been known to block the most sociopathic offenders and all of their followers. This instantaneously has the effect of curbing the swarm; a clipping of the winged monkeys, if you will. Of course, this does inevitably result in a degree of friendly fire, and I am always happy to unblock those who have been caught up in the melee. It’s an imperfect situation, but once you have reached a certain number of followers, Twitter becomes unsustainable without weeding out the more bizarre and abusive users. (In other words: if I’ve blocked you by accident, don’t take it personally.)

Being in favour of free speech doesn’t mean you want to listen to what every single maniac or numbskull has to say. It means that you don’t want anyone to be censored. Far from being a threat to free speech, the block function on social media is a guarantee of free speech. It means that each individual user gets to decide for themselves what they read. It means we don’t require big tech overlords, or those sinister Silicon Valley “Trust and Safety Councils”, to decide what’s best for us and ban those accounts deemed to be “offensive” or “unsafe”.

That said, we need to wary of the “echo chamber” phenomenon. I’ve never understood those who only wish to hear their own opinions repeated back to them. How can you possibly develop your ideas if you don’t leave yourself open to be challenged? Without humility, we cannot grow, and there is always something we can learn from even our bluntest critics. I have no interest in echo chambers, which is why I go out of my way to engage with those who disagree with me. I read their books and articles, I participate in public debates, I invite them on to my show on GB News. But the idea that Twitter is the best forum for these discussions is absurd.

Somehow, in the quagmire of social media, we have to find a way to restore civility when it comes to our differences. The block function is a useful tool in this regard. We should all be open to persuasion, but that does not mean we should waste our time wrestling with pigs. There is little point in attempting to defend a fictitious version of yourself that your detractors have invented. Instead, reserve your time and energy for those who are still capable of adult discussion. Leave the rest to roar away into the vacuum of cyberspace.

#Andrew Doyle #free speech #social media #freedom of speech #freedom to block #blocking #online trolls #religion is a mental illness

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verai-marcel · 3 years ago

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Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

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"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car.

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car.

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind.

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you.

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up.

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western.

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful.

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner.

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him.

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion.

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep.

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it.

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex.

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck.

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching.

"Hey Mister!" you yelled.

He turned towards you.

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?"

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on.

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said.

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you.

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you.

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger.

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen.

You followed him willingly into his den.

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets.

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name.

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life.

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped.

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly.

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him.

"You think you can take more, darlin'?"

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge.

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before.

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure.

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could.

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side.

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips.

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

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End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #nsft #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #writing #lemon fanfic #fanfic

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kingkatsuki · 3 years ago

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AAHHHH!!! 34k? 34k? Nope,no ma’am..there’s no way. Time flew by while i read it and next thing you know i was done and i got sad but then I remember i can just re-read it( WICH I FUCKING WILL BTW)…..There’s some spoilers ahead so please feel free not to answer this ask(I don’t want to ruin it for others) but i had to come here and say this :3💕

Ok first of i wanted you to know that it was one of the best fics I’ve read in a while and you have no idea how much i enjoyed it. I was reading it between chores and let me tell you I’ve never cleaned my house so fast just so i could continue reading like WHAT??

The interaction between reader and Bakugou feels so natural from the get go and that bit when he gets grumpy when reader mentions him dropping his big ass sword

‘’Oh upper case,I’m so scared’’ — i can just imagine him pouting so clearly in my head because he would think typing with upper case would help him get his message across lmao

And him going on quests when reader is not online and getting items specifically with her in mind is one of the sweetest things things ever.

I felt it in my soul when reader has this image of him on her mind,how she sees him doing all these little mundane things. Because YES same! Like sometimes i think “ i wonder how Bakugou would…..” You know what i mean?? Please don’t answer that,I’m pretty sure you do,my fellow Bakufucker senses tell me you do know what I’m talking about. Anyway love his cocky saying how much cooler than reader he is while swinging his big ass sword this way and that? Please I wanna hit him in the back of the head with it for that LMAO. And when he voice calls us for the first time,omg I am not kidding you when i read :

A soft melody began to chime out from your speakers as he initiated the call..

I swear i got so nervous for absolutely no reason,i locked my phone and found something to do cause i was not ready to “hear his voice’’ . PLEASE I’M HOPELESS. I would do this continuously when things got too good. When he video called? I just sat there for like 10 minutes i kid you not just staring at my phone trying to calm down.

He’s a softy,a big ol’ teddy bear with stuffing that’s gone hard and clumpy but he’s still super soft even if people think otherwise. I love how much he calls us sweetheart heart,how he finally admits he likes spending time with us. I love how subtle the change from ‘gaming buddies’ to friends to something more either of us want to acknowledge until he’s fucking his fist thinking of us after work. I love how it’s him who starts saying ‘’We” and “Us’’,it made me soft he thinks of us as a part of him whether he likes it or not. The part where the squad gangs up on him telling him your ‘cat fishing him’ my poor baby i felt bad for him,but he still defending us no matter what. But then the dumbass lets them get to him and the worst of times he starts thinking about everything that they said and I’m over here clenching my thighs together waiting for him to bless me by cummin again and he doesn’t. I wanted to cry!! And i did not 5 minutes later when he goes a fucks up everything up and calls us a bitch.

I was close to cummin untouched and then I’m in tears..are you sure you’re not GOD? The reconciliation after had me grinning like i was mad for absolutely no reason too. I’m sure I’m bipolar now.THANK YOU FOR THAT.

Him cooking for us is his way of getting down on his knees and begging for forgiveness. (Which reminds me it would be freaking hot having Bakugou guide us through a recipe -via-phone and making it sound so lewd while doing so like your stirring the pot and he’s all like: ‘’Yeah just like that” “Bet it tastes amazing..you gonna let me get a little taste princess?) The smut part was so well detailed or maybe is just my whore self that knows exactly what’s happening lololol…. Him not wanting to get his cock slurped on because he knows he won’t last…he might as well be begging to get inside us at this point. Again i almost came at the thought of us having so much power over him.

In a few short words i just wanted to tell you i loved this as much as I thought i would when i read the tags for it. Thank you for sharing this with us i know it’s kind of scary posting big works like this one but i swear to you it was such a good read I didn’t feel like 34k.💕💕

This has me insanely emo wtf. It’s the fact that you said it’s 34k but didn’t feel like 34k, like that’s so so nice to hear🥺

I’m SO glad you enjoyed it! I just wanted to try and capture Bakugou slowly falling for us and like that moment when it finally developed from “just friends” to boyfriend and girlfriend… and like when he says you’re my girlfriend I wanted it to be like he never saw us as anything else you know?🥺

Thank you so much for taking the time to leave such a long, lovely message😭💕

#jo talks

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

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“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

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You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good. If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

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Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

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“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Why?

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels… it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

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S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

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pollenat · 4 years ago

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BLACKPINK and 5 ways to say I love you

JISOO

Rays of sunshine shining through strands of her hair, looking like a crown. You’re trying to capture her royal smile on the camera, but it’s hard to catch the image when you’re lost on breath. All because of the woman behind your camera lens, a lookalike of a goddess. Her smile turns wide and earnest, the flirtatious smirk now just a memory abandoned few takes ago. “Beautiful.” is what you mumble all of sudden.

Waiting for her call after she walked you home. It’s the evening, and you have all sorts of dark possibilities keeping you wide awake. What if she gets lost? What if someone picks on her? You start typing a message for the fifth type that evening. Before you can even wonder whether to delete or send it, Jisoo finally calls you.

The smell of exclusive shop she has taken you to. Its heavy and exotic, making your insides turn from how alien it is. But even if you’re unsure of how to feel, you can’t leave. You stay on the seat, waiting for Jisoo’s head to pop out from behind a curtain, and be followed by the rest of her body, now dressed in an expensive pair of jeans.

Her hand feeding you sweets when you’re busy with work. Being unable to give Jisoo all of your attention makes you ashamed, but she doesn’t mind. It’s something you have to take care of. The least she can do is keep you well fed.

Falling asleep on her shoulder during a night out with your friends. You don’t remember when the consciousness left you, neither does Jisoo. She’s used to the weight of your head. Some friend points out your state, and Jisoo only smiles. In her eyes it’s the sweetest thing imaginable. When everyone is focused on someone else, she places a small kiss on the surface of your forehead.

JENNIE

The smell of her hair shampoo filling your lungs. The closeness of her body warming you up. The softness of her skin under your fingertips. You want to tell her how much it means to you to have her in your embrace, but you get so lost in the way she feels, you forget your speech. When she notices you’re not letting her go, she giggles.

Acting indifferent when she takes your food without asking. You have every right to be mad, but you can’t even come close to the feeling when it’s Jennie behind it. Instead you just watch her from the corners of your eyes, fondness blooming inside your chest. When she isn’t looking, you push the dish more towards her.

“Wait.” Jennie does as asked, eyes widening at the sight of you kneeling in front of her. She stammers a “what”, looking for more words to ask you, but nothing comes out. When you’re finished tying her shoelaces, you stand up and offer her your hand once again. She takes it. “I could’ve done it myself.” “Yeah. So?” The two of you don’t expand on the conversation.

Struggling to wash stripes of liquid lipsticks off of your forearm. They’re a consequence of your visit at the shop earlier that day. As you’re scrubbing your skin raw, the smell of Jennie’s perfumes reaches your nose. It’s momentary, but still makes you smile.

The coldness of her expression freezing you. As heart-melting as she can be, her angry side is one to be reckoned with. Jennie doesn’t want to talk, and you’re in no position to stop her from walking away. Later when you make up, you ask her why does she leave your side whenever angry. “Because you’re too adorable to stay angry at.” is her answer, followed by a pinch of your cheeks.

ROSÉ

The casual way she places a hand on your thigh in the most random moments. She doesn’t seem affected by her own behavior, comfortable the way she is. You don’t want her gone. It’s just nice to notice her doing that, feel the warmth of her palm, sense the honesty in her gesture. “Nothing.” you say once she gives you a questioning look.

Braiding her hair out of boredom, while she’s too taken by the TV screen. Chaeyoung doesn’t realize what you’re doing. At least not completely even when you pull on a stray lock, causing her small pain. She turns around, thinking you wanted her attention, then looks back at TV. The day after, both of you laugh at the results, half of her hair curled, half straight.

Walking down the street, huddled together under an umbrella. The weather is ugly type of cloudy, and the heavy rain has already soaked your feet. Neither you, nor Chaeyoung speak. All that matters is to get somewhere dry as fast as possible. In the most random of moments, you catch her humming quietly a familiar melody.

Leaning over the kitchen island, eating your homemade casserole straight out of the heat-proof dish. Chaeyoung giggles happily at the taste, excited to announce that she was right to make changes in the recipe found online. You nod in agreement, your mouth too busy chewing to speak.

The thudding beat shaking the ground beneath your feet. The overwhelming smell of sweat. The pain in your ears. Chaeyoung’s body is rubbing against yours as she jumps along to the melody. Others are also pushing at your silhouette, but that’s the magic of concerts. When your date notices your hesitation, she pulls you under her arm, asking whether you’re alright. You say you are, and Chaeyoung kisses you for a short moment, only to then pull you into dancing with her.

LISA

Holding hands under the table as you await your meals. You’re talking about your days, smiling, frowning, laughing as you listen to one another. When the waiter brings you plates, you forget about your interlocked fingers, and just start eating with the other one. “Hm?” you turn to look at laughing Lisa. “Nothing, nothing.” and she follows your lead.

Being scared. Not of her, but of the consequences your disagreement may be the origin of. You spend hours turning over her blunt words, worried that some of the hurtful ones may be right. Even when she apologizes and locks you in the tightest of embraces to show you how much she’s ashamed of ever hurting you, the possibility of her being honest haunts you.

Pieces of clothing you find around your home. Their appearance is a product of pure coincidence, not ulterior motives. Lisa tends to be forgetful when spending her time at your place. But can you really blame her? How can she focus on anything other than you? (Her words, not yours.)

Attempting your best to keep straight face when you’re play-fighting. Lisa knows you’re not really angry at her, but without seeing your smile, she can’t be 100% sure. So she does one thing you can never survive without melting inside - act as cute as possible. Lisa’s pouting, pulling at your hands, talking in pure honey. All until you eventually relent, and give into the gentlest of kisses that follow.

The contests of speaking in pure cringe that you so often busy yourselves with. They consist of lines, all made of pure filth, all almost impossible to choke out without frowning. Chaeyoung often asks you why are you doing this to yourselves, but you can’t figure it out either. “It’s just a couple thing.” you conclude one day, and Lisa only nods is agreement.

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop reactions #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #blackpink fluff #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfic #blackpink reactions #bp fanfic #bp imagines #bp x reader #bp scenarios #bp au #bp fluff #bp reactions

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iamnightduchess · 4 years ago

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Hai Queen, can you make HC of ReiKasa's secret fetishes? (Lmao I'm so embarrassed) or if they uhm BDSM, what will they do?

Hello luv, thank you for the Ask! Happy belated birthday in advance. I am so sorry for the delayed wish 🙏 Here's hoping this will be a good belated gift for you 💖

Reiner x Mikasa (ReiKasa) Extremely Kinky Sexy Times Modern AU (R20+) Headcanon #12

(A/N: ‼️WARNING‼️Graphic/Explicit Description of very dirty smut with potentially provocative images ⛔ Please don't click Keep Reading if you're below 20 🙅‍♀️ Sorry kiddos! To my more adult readers, please absorb this post's content with appropriate discretion & maturity)

Ring the alarm because it's going to get extremely fiery in this zone 😳🔥🔥🔥 If i'm going to horny jail, I'm taking you guys with me haha

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Reiner & Mikasa have a very comfortable (and vanilla) sex life. However, they do have some secret kinks that they share behind closed doors. The kinks are only discovered after they've been together for at least half a year based on the trust they have built through their relationship. Reiner and Mikasa would at least go on between 10-15 dates before they become intimate with each other & exploring the more physical aspects of their relationship. These two don't f**k. They make love; slow, tantric, gazing into each other's eye kind of loving. When their bodies fuse, so do their souls.

BUT, after months of getting comfortable with each other's bodies, that is when they know they are both ready to bring in more colors into their sex life and ready to take it to the next level. It takes some time on Mikasa's end because this woman has some insecurities with the way her body is built. Yet Reiner helps her build her confidence a lot by giving her the space and the time she needs to truly let herself go with him and he is the kind of man that embraces HER body type the way she is. But if Reiner could describe Mikasa's body with one word, it'll be with heaven-sent.

Secret Fetishes

Muscle Kinks (Both)

No, not the literal muscle kink 🤣 Mikasa admires Reiner's body very much - his strong and sturdy shoulders and his large Nordic build reminds her of the statue of Ares she had once saw in Greece. His biceps are her most favorite go-to body parts of his (during sex especially) when she wants to sneak in quick affectionate touches, kisses or squeezes (apart from his butt!). Mikasa expresses her feelings better through touches. Let's just say she can't keep her hands away from his a$$ when they're in private. Reiner has also learned to know that the tighter her grip is on his biceps while he's inside of her, it means he's hitting her sweet spots just right.

Meanwhile for Reiner, he doesn't have a very specific favorite on Mikasa because he loves every part of her! Although he's developed an affinity for her breasts and abs. He'd jokingly say that he'll eat off her body if he could (like those kinky sushi bars haha) 😏 But, to Mikasa, Reiner knows exactly how to suck her soul out of her body through certain sensitive points of hers using his sinful lips.

Fellatio (Reiner)

Like most men, Reiner loves getting blowjobs. He finds himself in bliss yet being extremely defeated every time Mikasa goes down on him. This woman, apart from having a pair of strong grips, rather unexpectedly, has a strong jaw muscle and exceptional gag reflex control. She swallows too ;) He'd almost instantaneously comes when she pulls double jobs on him (mouth & breasts) at the same time. He also loves running his fingers through her hair and seeing the intensity in her gaze when they lock eyes while he's deep inside her mouth. Mikasa devours him like she would with her favorite ice-cream: lots of tongue, sucking and loads of slurping.

Cunnilingus (Mikasa)

Mikasa isn't a very loud lover but only Reiner is able to make her whimper helplessly with his mouth and fingers. Reiner sucks so well (pun intended) that she'll end up being a heaving mess when he's done with her. Mikasa has become an acquired taste for Reiner. He knows exactly the right amount of pressure to apply using his tongue and teeth on that sensitive spot of hers until he drinks her dry. These two love the receiving and giving aspect of their lovemaking. So, yes, they enjoy doing the 34+35 a lot ;)

Mild Kink - Foreplay, hair pulling, loads of biting & scratching (both)

As referenced in this post, Reiner & Mikasa are both biters. He likes pulling her hair if he takes her from behind and she'll grip his back or his arms so hard that her nails would always break his skin if he's taking her in missionary. BUT, the sweetest part of their lovemaking is always their foreplay. Reiner loves running his fingers along her thighs, hips and back and takes pride when he can make her shiver with tiny prickling goosebumps on her skin. That way, he knows he's making her feel really good. Also, when he gets her all wet and gushy. *Bixby, play WAP by Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion 😳

Asphyxiation (both)

We're almost getting into BDSM territory. Depending on their mood for lovemaking, Reiner and Mikasa injects a li'l bit of mild asphyxiation while they're in deep penetration mode; just a little bit & not too much. They have a strong level of trust between them that they've never accidentally gripped too hard on or hurt the other. Their safe word for this: ACE.

Roleplay (Both)

Even after years of being together (even after the children comes into the picture), Reiner and Mikasa enjoys frequent roleplaying. Usually takes place during their wedding anniversaries to keep their marriage fresh and spicy. From pretending to be strangers meeting in a hotel bar, to hot plumber and the sexy housewife and to reliving their highschool tropes, these two have no qualms in putting on some disguises while getting their freak on.

Public Sex (Reiner) / Risk-taker (Mikasa)

Now, Mikasa is an extremely private, introverted person and her definition of public is more of having the risk of being heard of than the location itself. At the beginning of their exploratory phase, the furthest location beyond the bedroom that she's ever been comfortable in would be their house kitchen in broad daylight.

Even then, she'd be the one who'd make the first move because Reiner once shared that it'll be interesting to try sneaking a quickie when/where they're not supposed to.

Reiner wears reading glasses when he works at home and Mikasa always finding herself feeling a little turned on when he does. There's just something inexplicably sexy when she sees her gorgeous man getting all engrossed in serious work mode.

One time, Reiner was in a Zoom call with Magath and his Warrior unit and suddenly his woman just walks out of their bedroom with nothing but his tshirt on, sans underwear. Mikasa intentionally reaches for things in the top shelf and bending over the kitchen counter a little bit more than usual just to tease him. Well, it worked and he had to maintain a straight face when his vidcam is still on with his raging hard-on or while she's sucking him off from underneath their kitchen table. As soon as the Zoom call ends, Mikasa's getting the pounding, I mean, the punishment that she deserves.

There was also that one time when he was in an online gaming party with Armin, Jean and Connie, while an almost naked Mikasa was riding him hard at the same time. The boys still couldn't explain why Reiner was suddenly silent in-game (he said his mic was being weird) and why he was voluntarily sacrificing his character repeatedly while they're in the middle of a boss fight during that session haha

If they're in the kitchen, expect some edibles to add on a little more spice such as ice on his pecs and abs as well as whipping cream all over hers.

BDSM (Both) - including Blindfold, Bondage, Spanking, Dom & Sub subtext

Reiner is a man of strict discipline and Mikasa is a woman with a fixed routine but their sex life reflects both authority and flexibility that balances with their pre-planned kink-exploration techniques. Reiner and Mikasa both take turns to be the giver and receiver. Seriously, the level of trust and carnal attraction between these two are phenomenal.

When she's the one receiving, Mikasa would surrender all of her self control to Reiner's hands and hot damn, when this man is in his dominating mode, Mikasa would end up screaming and biting into the pillow because Reiner can be extremely firm in delaying her gratification. Playing with her like a skilled musician would to his instrument, Reiner knows how Mikasa's body works and responds to his touch. He likes raising her limits higher every time.

This man can be scary manipulative when he's the dom and he will leave her begging for his mercy. He has amazing hands made for comforting massages and well, orgasmic spanking. Their safe word when he's the Dom: DIAMONDS.

Reiner tried addressing himself as 'Daddy' with Mikasa one time before spanking her. Needless to say, she ended up rolling on the bed laughing. That session failed gloriously. She'll made a point, however, to use that specific endearment years down the lane as their secret keyword in front of their kids when Mummy's in the mood for some heavy bonding with Daddy 🙈 In the end, she still calls him 'Daddy' for sex? 🤷‍♀️ orz

When he's the one receiving, he will be the most hard-to-break sub and lucky for him, Mikasa is a persistent dom. He loves it when he can let go and just be fully vulnerable with her. She will make him kneel, she will make him beg and Reiner loves it when she takes control over him.

He pretended to resist against his restraints even more just so she would inflict on him harder. Although, Reiner has some underlying emotional issues and has some repressed self-aggression with innate desires that need to be 'reprimanded' in a sense. He's a physically strong figure in the public eye but he is emotionally and psychologically vulnerable due to some issues that began in his childhood that was only addressed professionally later on in his young adult life. He also has some attrition to pain that needs to be channeled safely and Mikasa is the only woman who he can be open and honest with, who has strong impenetrable limits to receive and hard resolve to inflict on him when he truly needs it. Their safe word when she's the dom: SPADES.

Usually, after a very intense session, these two would soothe each other with a long, warm embrace or just hold each other for far longer in the showers before pulling themselves back into their neutral zone. They'll usually slip into something much more comfortable afterwards with some comfort food, weighted blanket and streaming services. Reiner and Mikasa both are physically and emotionally built perfectly for each other that it's so surreal. Their bond, love and trust just run even deeper with each passing day that he believes when they sleep, their souls would still be looking for each other.

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Sorry it got even longer than I expected but I had super fun thinking & working on this! Thank you so much for the Ask & I hope you've had a memorable celebration this year ❤ xoxo

#ReiKasa #ReiKasa asks #ReiKasa smut #ReiKasa reimagines #ReiKasa headcanons #ReiKasa sexy headcanons #ReiKasa unadulterated #reiner x mikasa #strictly ReiKasa #reiner braun #mikasa ackerman #ReiKasaverse #ReiKasa modern AU #ReiKasa kink!time

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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years ago

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The boys and mc high school/college au go!

Ooooh, college au! It took forever for for me to get this all typed out and decided. Ok… so…

Classic- Classic is the one chilling around in the study/ tutoring circle, kicked back, seeming like he’s asleep and somehow not falling or tipping from the chair that’s only on two legs, getting credit for being there, but not participating... That is, until someone says something so incredibly stupid with such confidence, insisting that they’re right, and anyone who thinks differently is stupid, that he can’t help but cut in, laughing loudly and looking up. “ya really think that’s how it works? you’re gonna make these poor kids fail their tests if they believe ya!” He then proceeds to school them, the other people taking notes so they can pass their classes- no one’s ever been able to explain quantum physics so understandably before!! How he met MC? He met them when he started going to the study/ tutoring circle because it was an easy credit- a credit that he’s already earned by now, and can’t duplicate. One day he’ll be able to play it cool enough without his soul trying to beat out of his ribcage to ask if they want some one on one tutoring, since they’re there for the help, not the credit.

Creampuff- He is the sweetest boy around! Somehow, even on a campus this big, everyone knows who he is. He doesn’t stay inside the normal clique circles, either, being friends with everyone! “FRIEND GROUPS SHOULD INCLUDE EVERYONE YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH, AND I WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE!” He’s Homecoming and Prom King, and takes any duties he has from the roles very seriously, fulfilling them all with the utmost passion. There isn’t a single person around that could hate him, and the teachers all love him as well. His grade point average is about an A- to B+ range. He’s not a genius, but he works hard and never shies away from extra credit and working hard to make it. He doesn’t seem to sleep? He is always doing something, working on some project for some class of club that he’s in, or spending time doing activities with friends... How he met MC? They were working on a project for a club that they were both in, and built a good friendship on their time spent together and the interactions they had there. They have lunch together in the cafeteria most days.

Red- He sits in the back of class, looking like the bad boy that no one wants to approach, but that also the one that people swoon over, giving out winks and smirks, flirting indiscriminately. He never does any work in class, and seems to never really care about it, but somehow- always gets amazing grades on tests...? And his grades in class aren’t anything to sneeze at, either, despite homework counting as a part of the grade...? The teachers like him because he really gets their subjects, and does really well, but he tries not to let anyone know, because, y’know... that bad boy image would be ruined... How he met MC? They had a class together, but MC was having trouble. Red sent every bit of flirting their way, but MC was having none of it. Finally, Red offered to help them with the homework, but MC told him they didn’t need to fail because Red wanted to flirt. “ah, sweetheart, y’re makin’ me feel bad- ya think i’d ever offer ta help if i didn’t know th’ answer? i don’t ever offer ta help anyone- y’re a special case. *wink*” He then taught them how to do the problem, telling them to pull up the answer online and check it while he kicked back. After finding out that MC liked the nerdier, actual “him”, side of him, he made it a habit to show it to them often, sitting next to them and explaining things through class, starting to ignore the rest of the people who usually flirted with him, liking the acceptance that MC gave him and how nice it felt to actually be himself.

Edge- Who knew that you still need gym credits in college?! Edge did, that’s for damn sure. He loves it because it helps him find a better way to deal with his frustration and anger. He also loves to untangle to puzzles that seem impossible. He’s seemingly on track to become a psychologist, a criminal detective, a lawyer, and an agent at some governmental agency that only has letters on their building... He tried to get into the medical field, but he can’t handle the disgusting nature of that science. He can handle things like gunshots, stab wounds, even road rash and compound fractures- but as soon as the body is cut open and he can see inside of it, he’s fighting not to faint. “IT’S NOT THAT I HAVE A WEAK STOMACH! IT’S ALL THAT- VISCERA! THERE’S SO MUCH OF IT AND SUCH WEIRD, UNNATURAL SEEMING COLORS! SHUT UP!” How he met MC? P.E. He has become known as one of the gods of P.E., and is often mistaken as a teacher. They were doing track and field activities, and MC was staring at him. When Edge demanded what they wanted and why they were staring at him, and MC answered by getting flustered and asking if he could show them how to do it that way, since he was so good at it, at it was amazing to see him do it! He gets all flushed and agrees, feeling flattered that they recognized his greatness.

Blue- He is on the Cheer squad, leader of the Pep squad, and leader of the track and field team! He is super athletic, and is very friendly with everyone! He ends the day with little energy from how much he does- people think that cheer and pep are just dancing around, but it’s hard work! There’s lots of flexibility training, and strength training, otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to do all the gymnastic type moves and lifting of whole other people they do! And then he has homework after all of that, and hanging out with his friends... But, luckily, he’s really smart- on most things. For everything else, there’s his brother, who he pesters to do homework with him as a way of learning, and getting him to do his own homework. How he met MC? During a pep rally, they did something with audience participation, Blue was picking the person that he’d be partnered with, and grabbed MC when he saw them. He was instantly enamored and at the end, he asked them for their number. He sits with them and Creampuff at lunch every day he doesn’t have to go to a practice at lunch time.

Stretch- He’s the guy chilling in the library, kicked up and napping behind the desk or reading, and the bookstore, kicked back behind the counter and napping or reading, and the student café, never with any food from the café, but either kicked back and napping or drinking honey. He’s never really seen in any classes except the one he PAs (professor’s assistant) for, and no one can really tell if he’s actually a student...? Except that he’s a PA, so... that means he has to be... right...? He comes into the class, points at the board and tells everyone to write it down, then turns on a prerecorded lecture or an educational video on the subject and chills at the professor’s desk, napping, drinking honey, or reading. How he met MC? MC went to pick up their books for their classes at the bookstore. He wasn’t even paying attention, reading some book, or something. When they brought up the book list, he didn’t even look at it, just told them what section was where. When they brought up their huge stack of books, he started ringing them up, but refused to sell them some of them without even looking at them. “ya don’t need that book. or that one. ya can get that one in the library. this one is garbage. yeah, i know the list has it on there, but ya don’t need it. ... what’s your major? yeah, ya don’t need that one...” MC left with about a fourth of the book list, and then, when they were able to go to the library to get the ones he’d said were there- he was there, too! MC was concerned that he was following them, but, he did work there, apparently... Halfway through the first semester, MC realized that Stretch saved them a bunch of money, and steered them right on all the unused books that had been added to the list.

Black- He’s the head of the ROTC (reserve officers training class). He wears his uniform every day, and, somehow, it’s always perfectly cleaned and pressed. He’s top of the sharp shooting team. Other students think that he’s a hard ass, or a recruitment officer... the few people he spends time with know how clever he is. He gets annoyed that the only people who get his sense of humor are his brother and some of the teachers. “YOU SEE, IT’S A JOKE ABOUT SCENT, BECAUSE MINT IS A SCENT, BUT ALSO, THE CHEMICAL COMPOUND FOR MINT IS THE MIRROR IMAGE OF THE CHEMICAL COMPOUND FOR DECAY, SO... FINE! YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR MY HUMOR, ANYWAY!” How he met MC? Black was ‘policing’ a party (making sure nothing got out of hand, no minors drank, as other students would say; no fun was had). MC was dragged there by a friend. They were doing their best to have fun, saw that everyone was avoiding Black, and walked up to where it looked like he was telling off a couple of people, but when they got closer they realized that he was telling a joke... if you could call that a joke...? Everyone listening just made confused face, MC, too, and when he started trying to explain the joke, everyone else just left. Black assumed that they’d be there to make fun of him, too, but when they asked him to repeat the explanation, and then the joke, even though they had to make sure what the punchline was supposed to be, they laughed. He looked stunned, but he fell in love when MC brushed off everyone else, telling him that they just weren’t smart enough to understand his joke, and too lazy to put in the work to understand it.

Mutt- He’s the one who everyone mistakes for goth. He’s not goth, he wears brown and orange, too, for stars sake... But apparently, wearing dark colors, regardless of the colors, along with having a lot of bone stuff, again, regardless of it being him, a skeleton, wearing a collar, and being a loner, who sits in the back and doesn’t appear to care about school or anything else, has put the label on him. He likes to not be surrounded by people, but... goth kids seem to flock to him...? He has no idea why... But, if he’s constantly getting lucky because some goths want to worship the symbol of death- he isn’t complaining. How he met MC? He’s one of their classes- not that they know. They’re too focused on actually learning and passing class, he’s in the back, snoozing and checking them out. They met him, because they were hanging out with Black. When he explained that they had a class together, MC was a bit confused, but after a minute, realized that they had seen his name on the roster. After that, Mutt sits next to them every day in class, flustering them beyond compare, and a bit confused why they haven’t decided to or accepted his offer to, jump his bones- nyeh heh. “bet i could get away with makin’ ya come in class. nyeh heh heh, aww, that look’s so cute on your face. so, what d’ya say? ready for me ta climb under the desk? naw, no one will find out. how d’i know? done it b’fore. never been caught, yet. nyeh heh heh.”

Axe- He’s the guy that was headed for greatness, somehow going to be top of his class and going to the highest ranking finishing college, for two separate fields- and then he had a burn out, and can’t be bothered to do much of anything. He almost seems like he doesn’t care about anything, anymore, including about if he ever graduates. His amazing double degree is long gone, and now his main hope of graduating is general studies. He works as a student janitor, and is usually hanging around in the halls, doing... something? He mostly sleeps through classes, and is a bit snappy to people who ask him questions, but those who he will actually spend time with know that he’s not so bad, under all the disillusionment. How he met MC? He mopped the floor, and had put a caution sign, not in the middle of the floor, but off to the side. MC was hurrying past and slid across the floor, and straight onto their ass with a yelp of pain. “heh. don’t ya watch where you’re going’? get inta too much of a rush, you’ll be dead before ya know it. heh heh.” When MC pulled themself up and brushed themself off, not even caring that he was chuckling at them, then joked about making an ass of themself, and not being sore about being the butt of the joke, he decided that they may deserve... more than the biting rudeness that he’d given at first, and will often see them walking around, always sparing a bit of conversation for them as he ‘just happens’ to be headed the same way.

Bun- He is in the Culinary classes and clubs, and in the gardening classes and clubs. He wants to be able to make his food from garden to table! He started a preserving club, and is the head of it, Axe is in it, too, but it has only a couple other members. He also took a place in the sewing arts club, and has made quilts and clothes that have won awards in the state and county fairs. He is surrounded by people in his clubs and classes who adore him. He was shy about his towering stature, thick glasses, and braces when he first came to the school, but the way his clubmates flocked to him when they got to know him made him realize that there’s nothing to be nervous about. How he met MC? He was out gardening, with the gardening club, when one of MC’s folders had fallen from their hands onto the ground, thus sending papers flying in the breeze. One flew right to him and hit him in the face. He pulled it down to see MC running up to him, begging him to hold it. He did, standing when they arrived, watching the look on their face get more and more surprised the more he stood. “Here’s Your Paper. I Didn’t Mean To Scare You Or Anything... Oh- I- I Didn’t? A- A Hug- Just Because I’m Taller Than You...? O-OK!”

Dusty- He’s the one that is always called to the dean’s office when anything happens. He’s usually in the counseling office or dean’s office, but he is just as often in the computer lab or hidden in the library. It’s not that he has any reason to be in those places, but he likes to be away from people, and those are the places that people come the least. He was doing amazingly well in his major, but then tragedy struck and his brother died... He blames himself, and can’t get past his guilt. His teachers and counselor want him to get help, but he stubbornly refuses, insisting that he’s ok. He doesn’t even like spending a lot of time with his “cousins”, since a few of them remind him too much of his brother. How he met MC? He was sitting in the back of the library, just so happening to be in front of a book MC needed to get. The fact that MC sat down next to him, not just leaving and avoiding him, while even his own cousins would do that, made him more defensive. But, the way that they just sat there, filling the silence, talking about everything and nothing, refusing to leave him there alone, forced him to think that maybe- maybe there was still some good out there...

MC- MC is a normal student, who ran across all of the skeleton boys. They were good in some things, not so much in others, but their good nature and friendliness drew the skeletons to them- as well as the soul compatibility. Their ability to distance themself from others’ actions and take some teasing and jokes at their expense in stride really made some of the more difficult skeletons take notice. With the boys- They were glad when Classic finally managed to ask if they wanted private tutoring- they did, they needed more help than the adhd scatter of the study group. They love seeing Creampuff every day that he comes to lunch, because he’s such a ray of sunshine! When MC finally realizes that Red has stopped flirting with anyone but them, they actually say yes to going on a date with him, and have a great time. They are so glad to have Edge in their gym class, and hope that they stay in the same gym class all through college; it’s amazing to watch him exorcise, like a statue of the perfect Olympian come to life. They had no idea that Blue was interested in them when they met, and text him every day, though they do have more of an understanding on their interest in each other. MC was very irritated with Stretch in the beginning, but after the experience with books that first semester, they always go to him when a new book list comes out to make sure that they have only the books that they need and none of the extra bullshit. Despite Black having to explain most of his jokes, MC likes hanging out with him, and feels like it makes them smarter while they’re doing it, since he’s always explaining stuff! Mutt is a crazy thing they’ve got to live through at first, but then, when he relaxes back and chills out a bit, is fun to learn how to flirt with, and he’s only too glad to teach them. Axe really appeals to MC’s dark humor side, and they love trading jokes with him on the way to classes. They hope he manages to regain determination soon, and get his plans back together. MC thinks that Bun is the sweetest person around, anywhere! And loves spending time with him whenever they can. When MC found Dusty, they were concerned that if they left him there, he was going to commit suicide, so they just- didn’t leave. If staying there and showing interest, or even just making it so that the quiet didn’t fill his skull with the troubled thought that would lead him that way, it was easy to do.

Ask Masterlist?

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thewidowsghost · 4 years ago

Text

Fox - Chapter 26

Previously on Fox:

"Nat," (Y/n) gently nudges her girlfriend's shoulder, but it doesn't do anything. (Y/n) moves closer to Natasha, wrapping an arm around her, gently running her fingers through the redhead's hair.

After a minute or two, Natasha relaxes, falling back into a comfortable sleep. (Y/n) rests her head back on her pillow, continuing to run her hand through Natasha's soft hair. After about half an hour, (Y/n) falls asleep, her right arm instinctively resting beside Natasha's left hand.

Natasha wakes about an hour after her nightmare, studying (Y/n) for a while. She seems so gentle while she sleeps, Natasha thinks. The green-eyed former assassin takes (Y/n)'s hand shyly and (Y/n) sleepily entwined her fingers with Natasha's, sighing contentedly.

Natasha smiles softly, lying her head gently on (Y/n)'s shoulder. (Y/n) shifts her head slightly, then rests her right cheek against the top of her girlfriend's head. Natasha turns a little, cuddling into (Y/n)'s side.

"You're so cute when you're tired," (Y/n) murmurs and Natasha laughs softly.

"Don't tell anyone, I have to keep my bad girl image," Natasha says, looking up and meeting (Y/n)'s gentle (E/C) eyes with her own green ones, amusement evident in (Y/n)'s gaze. (Y/n) gently wraps her arms around Natasha, the redhead snuggling closer, (Y/n) resting her chin on Natasha's head.

(Y/n) watches Natasha's eyes close, and (Y/n) says softly, "Good night, Nat."

Natasha murmurs something indistinguishable and (Y/n) stifles a laugh.

3rd Person POV

The next morning Natasha wakes up before (Y/n) and snuggles into her girlfriend's arms, the memories of the last few weeks running though her head.

Spending time with (Y/n), the attack from the strange man outside of Odessa; meeting the Bartons.

Natasha sighs softly, but it still wakes up (Y/n) who shifts lightly behind Natasha's head.

"Sorry," Natasha murmurs.

"You're alright," (Y/n) answers, running her fingers through Natasha's soft red hair. Natasha relaxes into (Y/n) as the (E/C) eyed women wraps her arms around Natasha. "What do you have to be so cute for, huh?" (Y/n) asks softly.

"I could say the same about you," Natasha answers shyly.

"Ha, I'm six feet tall," (Y/n) laughs softly. "How could you call someone so tall, cute, huh?"

"Well, you're certainly not ugly," Natasha counters.

(Y/n) laughs softly, nudging Natasha playfully.

Natasha sits up and moves out of the bed, and towards the bathroom. (Y/n) stands up and rifles through her suitcase to find a pair of jeans and a shirt and a leather jacket.

(Y/n) pulls off her pajama pants and slips into her jeans, but as (Y/n) is taking off her pajama shirt, Natasha walks out of the bathroom, turning scarlet when she sees (Y/n). Natasha takes in her rock hard abs and well muscled arms as (Y/n) quickly pulls on a light gray t-shirt, her hair covering her embarrassed face. (Y/n) avoids Natasha's face as she pulls on her heather gray jacket.

Natasha walks over to (Y/n) and wraps her arms around the taller woman's waist. (Y/n) looks down at her girlfriend and gently sets her arms on her shoulders. (Y/n) bends down a little, her lips ghosting over Natasha's, silently asking if this is okay.

Natasha answers by stretching up and meeting (Y/n)'s lips, moving her arms to rest on her shoulders, straining due to (Y/n)'s nine inch height advantage. (Y/n) bends down even more, her lips still against Natasha's.

After a minute, the two break apart, (Y/n) gazing fondly down at the redhead.

"That felt right," (Y/n) says breathlessly and Natasha laughs softly. "You're cute," (Y/n) murmurs, kissing Natasha again softly.

"Why do you wear leather all the time?" Natasha asks, pulling off (Y/n)'s jacket.

Natasha steps back and (Y/n) crosses her arms, her biceps flexing as she does so, Natasha watching her arms. "Don't need my girlfriend getting jealous of people staring at me?" (Y/n) says. "But for you, I can leave it off."

(Y/n) smiles and nudges Natasha gently. "Now go get changed and we can go get breakfast," she tells the redhead. Natasha shakes her head and rummages through her suitcase grabbing a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt. (Y/n) bends down and pulls out a navy blue leather jacket and hands it to Natasha. "Just, if you want."

Natasha smiles, takes the jacket, and makes her way to the bathroom to change.

"Aww, it's so big on you," (Y/n) comments as Natasha walks back into the room with (Y/n)'s jacket on, the sleeves a few inches too long. Natasha rolls her eyes and (Y/n) snaps her fingers and the jacket shrinks to fit Natasha's smaller size.

"That works," Natasha says and (Y/n) smiles, grabbing her phone and wallet and a handbag, placing the two items inside. Natasha comes over to stand by (Y/n) and the taller woman wraps an arm around her shoulder.

"Let's go get food," (Y/n) says and the two walk out of the hotel room.

They separate once they reach the lobby. The two walk to a nearby restaurant and are shown to their seats, sitting side side in a corner booth, holding hands under the table.

"I think I'm feeling something other than pancakes today, surprisingly," (Y/n) says and Natasha looks surprised.

"You always have pancakes though," Natasha says, gazing at (Y/n) who smiles.

"I'm feeling like waffles," (Y/n) says and Natasha stifles a laugh.

"Waffles and pancakes are literally the same thing," Natasha says and (Y/n) nudges her playfully.

"Fine, what about biscuits and gravy?" (Y/n) asks. "Is that different enough for you?" (Y/n) asks playfully.

"That sounds nice," Natasha says, gazing affectionately at (Y/n). "Maybe I'll join you there."

"We need coffee though," (Y/n) says.

"Oh, definitely," Natasha says, agreeing with her (E/C) eyed girlfriend.

A waiter comes over and asks for their drink orders and the two order coffees. The waiter brings back the coffees and (Y/n) nods as he sets them down in front of the two women and walks away.

"So, we check out the one apartment at three, then go and possibly see other after that?" Natasha asks as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"That's right," (Y/n) answers. "Maybe later we could go get ice cream?" (Y/n) offers.

Natasha leans up against (Y/n) and nods in agreement.

"You're being super sweet today," (Y/n) murmurs. "I'm kind of digging it," she adds.

"It seems you bring out some good qualities in me," Natasha says, looking up into (Y/n)'s gentle (E/C) eyes.

"I think you bring some good qualities in yourself," (Y/n) tells Natasha, and the redhead smiles warmly up at her. "Also, I love your smile," she adds.

"Still too much..." Natasha holds out the last word.

"You're mean," (Y/n) whines.

"You ladies ready to order?" the waiter asks and Natasha moves from her place against (Y/n). The waiter shoots (Y/n) a glance as her well muscled arms flex, then his gaze moves to Natasha.

"I thought you were taking our orders?" (Y/n) asks, glaring at the man, who's gaze flashes with fear for a moment before taking the two's orders.

"I thought you said that I would be jealous?" Natasha asks, amusement shining in her emerald gaze as she looks at (Y/n).

(Y/n) shakes her head, sheepishly slouching in her seat in the booth beside Natasha. "You don't have to be embarrassed," Natasha says, leaning closer to (Y/n) to whisper, "I think it's adorable."(Y/n) blushes and, She's cute when she's embarrassed, runs through Natasha's brain, but then she realizes she said it aloud when (Y/n) goes a darker shade of red. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" Natasha asks and (Y/n) nods. "You get embarrassed so easily, don't you?" Natasha asks, leaning back up against (Y/n).

"Of course not," (Y/n) says hastily.

"I think it's sweet," Natasha says after the waiter sets down their breakfast.

"What do you mean?" (Y/n) asks, taking a bite of her biscuits and gravy.

"The fact is," Natasha pauses and (Y/n) keeps her gaze on her redheaded girlfriend, "everyone I've gotten to know here, Fury, Clint, Agents Coulson and Hill, they're all fighters. But then comes you," Natasha pauses again. "You could win any fight, and yet you're the sweetest, most gentle, and most intelligent person I've ever met."

"Aww, Nat, that's so sweet," (Y/n) wraps her arm around Natasha's waist and pulls the redhead a little closer, laughing a little when Natasha lets out a squeak of surprise. "Sorry," (Y/n) apologizes quickly but Natasha leans into (Y/n) shoulder, pulling her plate with her.

"You're alright," Natasha murmurs.

The two finish breakfast and they walk around for a while before walking to the apartment that they had seen online and meeting a realtor named Amanda.

"You must be (Y/n)," she says, gazing up at (Y/n), and Natasha shifts uncomfortably beside her.

"You'd be correct," (Y/n) answers coolly. "Could we go and look at the apartment now?" (Y/n) asks.

"Sure," Amanda opens the door and (Y/n) and Natasha walk in.

"What do you think Nat?" (Y/n) asks as the two look around.

"I think we'd need something bigger," Natasha answers and (Y/n) nods, and turns back to Amanda.

"Is there anything else you have that's bigger than this?" (Y/n) asks.

"We do have one other thing you might like to see," Amanda answers. "It's a townhouse about a ten minute walk from here."

(Y/n) and Natasha exchange a look and Natasha turns to Amanda and nods. "We'd like to see that if that's alright," the redhead says and Amanda motions for the two of us to leave so she can lock the door behind them.

Amanda leads the way out of the apartment building, (Y/n) and Natasha walking a few feet behind, following Amanda for about ten more minutes until they reach a townhouse.

"Holy shit," Natasha says, stepping inside the front door of the townhouse"/> (E/C) eyes.

Natasha rolls her eyes and takes (Y/n)'s hand back.

"This place is fricking amazing," (Y/n) says, gazing around.

"Language," Natasha mocks (Y/n) and the (H/C) haired woman hits her lightly.

"Technically, that's not a curse word," (Y/n) says. "I do like this place though," (Y/n) admits.

"I do too," Natasha agrees, an image of her and (Y/n) spending time together, snuggled together on the couch, watching TV, or just making dinner together - or rather, (Y/n) making dinner and her watching.

"I feel the same," (Y/n) murmurs.

"Did you just read my mind?" Natasha asks.

"You think loudly," (Y/n) admits sheepishly. "And I'd like that," (Y/n) pulls Natasha closer and wraps an arm round her shoulders.

"Let's go tell her we'll take it?" Natasha asks and (Y/n) nods.

"Thank God we work for SHIELD," (Y/n) says. "This place must cost a whole fortune. Thankfully SHIELD is paying for us to move out here."

"Let's go," Natasha says and the two walk back down the stairs letting go of each other's hands before walking to meet Amanda who was standing by the door.

"We'll take it," (Y/n) says when Amanda sends her a questioning look.

"Good, just fill out this paperwork and y'all are good to go. Rent is due next Friday," Amanda says handing (Y/n) a stack of a papers on a clipboard and a pen.

(Y/n) signs a bunch of stuff and hands the clipboard to Natasha who looks at her quizzically. Then she looks down at the top lines of the paper and next to (Y/n)'s signature was a line for a second lease owner.

"You really want..." Natasha trails off and (Y/n) nods. "Okay then," Natasha scribbles her signature and hands the clipboard back to Amanda. The blond smiles at Natasha and (Y/n) before handing (Y/n) a set of keys.

"Good luck, you two," Amanda says, smiling at the two.

(Y/n) and Natasha exchange amused glances before (Y/n) turns to Amanda. "Thanks," she says.

Amanda nods and walks out of the townhouse.

"So," (Y/n) says once the door closes, "new girlfriend, new house, that's pretty cool."

"You're an idiot," Natasha says and (Y/n) bends down and kisses her softly.

"We're going to have to do something about that," (Y/n) grins down at the redhead. "Can't have an intelligent women like yourself dating an idiot, now can we?"

"Haha," Natasha says, gazing up into (Y/n)'s (E/C) gaze. "Now, let's got get your stuff."

Word Count: 2388 words

So, I really LOVE this chapter. You guys finally got your kissing scene! I don't know how well written it is though, I've never been in a relationship before or never kissed anyone before. So...

See y'all!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤😍

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2

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sugar-kisser · 5 years ago

Text

Hot Coffee « Choi San (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3359

You look up from the ground in front of you and smile as you notice the little black corner shop quickly coming into your view with every step you take. Your hand grabs the metal door handle, the palm of you hand instantly freezing due to the lowering temperatures of the fast approaching winter. You’re just waiting for the snow fall to come, so you can enjoy the pretty white scene of what the city becomes, especially overnight.

A small little bell chimes as you open the door and enter, causing a pool of black hair with a strong silver streak to pop up, stoping his spot in the book he’s so engrossed in. The barista brightly smiles at you, his dimples caving deep into his cheeks.

“Y/N! You’re here much earlier than usual,” he slightly giggles as he calls for you barely containing his excitement. Some times you wonder what goes on in his head or if he’s mentally five.

“My last class got canceled last minute today, again,” you lie. Well you’re not entirely lying. Your class did actually get canceled today last minute, but you’ve ditched this class two other times now and you’ve told San that the class has been canceled. Truth be told you’re trying to avoid a couple of girls who have been harassing you for the past two months, and you just need a break.

“Do you want your usual?” San asks, already grabbing one of the large black cups. You nod you head and mumble a please. San smiles your way before moving towards the coffee station and begins to make your favorite drink. It’s not even a drink you can order on the menu, but because you come here so often San would make you new drinks all the time till you decided a favorite. You discovered this place in the beginning of the school year. San worked most days since he’s enrolled in mostly online classes. You like to come to the small coffee shop to work mostly on your graphic design assignments. You tend to find inspiration in little places that you are most comfortable in. The shop has only a handful of tables, but your favorite seat is on the bar attached to San’s entire work space. Most of the walls are windowed from top to bottom with black framing. San had recently even been hanging up plants around the shop to give it another spark of life. The shop isn’t much but it’s comfortable to you, and you can freely work in the environment.

San gently slides the drink across the countertop towards you, a small little trail of steam coming from the hole in the lid. You go to reach for your wallet in your bag, but San stops you.

“You know you don’t have to pay for you drinks,” San tells you.

“San,” you whine, “that’s not fair to everyone else. You need to stop giving me drinks for free.”

“Not everyone is like you,” San winks before walking off to go wipe down the equipment he just used. You feel a little bit of heat rise to your cheeks, and you take your drink and move to the bar on the side of San’s work station. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on San. He’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You both were a little quiet at first but you two quickly grew comfortable with each other due to you coming everyday to the coffee shop. Your conversations grew from just “hey how are you?” to “if you’re going to put that much cinnamon power into my drink I might as well snort it.” And to add a cherry on top, you’ve developed a small, little, tiny winy….. okay maybe it’s not small- BUT you have a crush on the cute, flirty barista who is also one of your friends. For all you know you could be friend zoned, so there is a little dilemma. You don’t really plan on telling San about your feelings, you’d rather deal with them until they go away than risk what you have now- because what you have now is really nice.

You set your drink on the counter and pull yourself into one of the high standing chairs. You then pull out your tablet and pull up your newest project you’ve been working on for a past couple days.

“What are you working on now?” San walks over to his side of the station connected to the bar where you are sitting at and rests his arms on top of the coffee machines.

“We have to create logo’s,” you tell him, “they can be for real companies or just made up.” You turn your tablet to show San the three different logo designs you’ve started. Each different logo representing a different company. One of them happens to be a design for the coffee shop you’re at- the other two are for made up companies.

“Is that one for here?” San asks, lighting up even more pointing to a small floral design, “look how detailed it is. All the flowers. They’re so pretty. Especially the big one in the middle.” You look over at your design and your eyes land on the giant water lily. “Are you about to color it all in?”

“I will when I’m finished with the other two designs. Why do you have suggestions?” You asks looking back at San with a smile and a small laugh at his deep interest in your assignment.

“No, no, no,” San laughs as he stands back up straight, “just curious. I think it’s going to be pretty no matter what you do with it.” You feel the blush quickly return to your cheeks but quickly push away the butterflies.

“I hope it turns out good. Maybe you’ll be able to use it for the shop,” You tell San as you pick up your stylus and begin working on one of the other designs.

“You know I’d love to,” San winks at you, “I’ll have to show my boss. Doubt he’ll say no, you’re talented.”

“Ah, thank you, San,” you laugh shyly, “I’m no professional. I still have a long way before I’m considered good.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Y/N,” San laughs, “you’re really talented. I hope someday you’ll see that.” You smile and look away from San, trying to cover you cheeks from another wave of pink. Why can’t you just seem to maintain your cool today? You look back at your designs and enlarge the image of one of the unfinished designs and begin working away. San begins to clean down his counter but looks over his shoulder your way. He loves the way you engross yourself into your work and the way your eyes light up when you finally get the look you’re wanting for your design. He knows you take pride in what you do and how much you love it. He just doesn’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself all the time. You never seem proud of any work you do. Yeah everyone can beat themselves up because they don’t think they did the best job they could, but you just never seem to be proud of anything you make. But little does San know the reason why you’re so hard on yourself is because of the girls that harass you. They always find a way to point out flaws to your professor when presenting or whisper about how anything you do isn’t as nice as everyone else’s, things like that. It’s created this unhealthy mental mindset in you, and you can’t seem to shake it.

You realize time has passed when San refills your cup for a third time, which means you are most definitely not sleeping tonight unless you manage to get all this energy out of you. The sun has begin to reach it’s spot on the horizon.

“Have you started coloring yet?” San asks as he fills up your cup.

“A little,” you tell him as you zoom out from the first logo, the one San really likes, “I’m just messing around with colors to see what I like.” San leans past your shoulder to get a closer look at your tablet. His face just inches away from yours looking at the design. You watch as his eyes jump around looking at the little elements and the colors you have picked out at the moment. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his little dimples pop onto his cheeks along with a smile. He begins to speak but his words don’t reach your ears. You trying to remember to breathe and to not make a fool of yourse-

“Y/N?” San asks waving his hand in front of your face. His face turned towards yours and a slight look of worry replaced his smile. You blink a couple times and focus on San who breaks out of his worry and back into a smile. “You’re so cute. I’ll be back I think I have customers. I want to see the other designs!” You nod your head and the boy hurries back to get behind the counter. You put your head down and your hands cover your mad red cheeks. Seriously what is up with you today? At this rate San will definitely figure out you like him. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before looking back up at your tablet, and get back to work. You zoom back into your logo and begin coloring in another petal of the water lily.

“I’m going to head into the back to grab more coffee grounds. Yell if anyone walks in,” San tells you hand resting on your shoulder to grab your attention. You nod your head and watch the boy disappear into the back before turning back to your work.

“Well, well, well. Look what we found,” an all too familiar venomous voice breaks your train of thought. Your breath hitches slightly and you look up at the two girls standing in front of you.

“Is there something you need? Or no?” You ask, almost deadpan. This is the last place you want to see them, especially since it’s your one safe happy place.

“No,” she answers then looks around the shop, “figures you would come here. Must be where you get all your ridiculous ideas from. Makes sense; there is no inspiration. But…. you got a cute barista, so I’ll give you some credit.”

“Leave him alone,” you warn her with a flat tone. The last thing you need is for San to be brought into whatever beef you have with these girls.

“What’s with the attitude? We’re trying to be nice,” the other girl growls.

“Nice? You’re joking, right?” You ask, “you come in here, insult a place I like to be at, and my designs in one sentence.”

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” the first girl tells you, voice low and threatening. You can feel your heart beat against your shirt. You know you can’t give up, not this time. You take in a deep slow breath to clam your nerves and the two girls stand there watching you, unsure of what you are going to do or say.

“Apologize,” the first girl demands.

“No,” you immediately answer her.

“No?” She asks almost taken aback with your sudden boldness she or her friend have never seen before. You go to open your mouth again to repeat yourself but your stopped when you feel a burning hot splash against your skin. A sudden high pitches scream escapes your lungs in reaction. You hear something heavy hit the floor and you and the two other girls look behind you at San who’s eyes widen. At his feet most of the coffee grounds have spilt out of bags and spread across the floor. The girls instantly make their way for the exit and you pull your coffee soaked shirt away from your body, but it doesn’t stop the burning sensation that’s already on your skin.

“Y/N,” San hurries up to you and quickly looks over your shirt and parts of your blistering skin that’s already exposed.

“It burns,” you tell him, your voice wavering just above a whisper. You breathing is shaky and a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, come on,” San helps you off your chair and guides you into the backroom and towards the break room. He clears off a section of a desk and has you sit on it while he heads to the other side of the room and he grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet. He opens the small box and looks around at what he has to work with. He takes another look at you and see’s that the skin on your color bones and neck have been to shrivel up.

“You’re going to need to take off your shirt for me to clean up the burns,” San quietly tells you. You’re slightly hesitant but you nod your head since you 1) don’t want to argue about it 2) want to get the burning shirt off of you. As you begin to take the shirt off San turns away and heads to his locker pulling out another shirt.

“Here, you can hold this up,” San holds out the shirt without looking your direction just so you’re not uncomfortable. You take the shirt and wrap it around your chest and even take off your bra after since it’s also soaks but most of the hot liquid was absorbed in the padding and so it just felt warm and you don’t think there are any burns. You whisper you’re good and San turns to face you again. He gives you a comforting smile before pulling out antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit. You make a small hissing noise when he first touches your irritated skin and you even slightly flinch away.

“I know it’s going to hurt,” San tells you, feeling slightly guilty that he’s going to hurt you just to make sure you get better, “squeeze my hand when it really hurts.” San takes your free hand. He begins cleaning your burns once again and you sit through the stinging feeling, but when he reaches your collar bone you squeeze his hand and he stops for a moment. He gives you a minute before he begins to lightly touch your collar bone again. San then tosses out the wipe and pulls out two small packets of an antibiotic lotion and dabs it onto your skin lightly but making sure it was being rubbed into your skin well enough. The lotion feels cool to your skin and you can almost relax. You watch San as he focus’s on making sure every burn is taken care of. You almost forget you’re still holding his hand.

“All done,” San lightly smiles at you as he closes the top of the first aid kit and tosses out the antibiotic packets he used, “you can put that shirt on.” As San goes to put the kit away you quickly pull the shirt over your head and push your arms through the sleeves. San’s unmistakable cologne fills your nose and you look down at the giant sweater. The lilac sweater is already giant on San, so it easily swallows you.

You slide of the desk, and when the sound of your shoes hitting the floor reaches San’s ears he knows it’s safe to turn around. He smiles sweetly seeing you in his sweater, you look like a little puppy in it.

“Had I known you looked this cute in my clothes I would of let you wear them sooner,” San teases as he walks back up to you, His head pushed further out from his body as he leans forward, and his hands are behind his back. When he reaches you, though, he stands up straight and his smile drops as he looks at you. He raises his hand and gently trucks some hair behind your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” San asks, he feels like he’s been stabbed and it’s evident in his voice.

“San,” you start as you look down at your hands, which you pick at your fingers, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“Hey,” San states as he gently grabs your face and lifts it up to face him, “I will always worry about you.” Your heart immediately flutters just at the simple idea that San wonders about you even when you’re not with him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before San moves his hand to the side of your face and begins to lean towards you. You close your eyes and feel his lips meet yours for a moment before he pulls away.

“How lon-“

“I’ve liked you for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” San slightly giggles, “ever since you did that little doodle of me.” You think back a couple months ago when you had come to the coffee shop with no assignments to do so you sat and doodles San as he worked through his shift.

“I didn’t know you saw that drawing,” you whisper looking away and awkward scratching the side of your head. San laughs and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his chest vibrating from the laugh.

“Come on,” San pulls away as he stops laughing, “I’ll walk you back to your apartment. I can close the shop for today once I clean up the coffee I dropped.”

“You don’t have you,” you quickly tell him, shaking your hands out in front of him, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“A bother? Y/N,” San lightly laughs and grabs your hands, “you could never be a bother. Why can’t you see that? You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not anymore. So, please, let me walk you home.”

“Okay,” you whisper and nod your head. San smiles with your response and the two of you head back out into the coffee shop. Most customers had already left and San gave a heads up to those who remained. He flipped the open sign and grabs a broom and begins to sweep up all the coffee grounds on the floor. You sit patiently in one of the other bar chairs with your things all packed up.

Once San had finished, he grabs his bag, and stops you from putting yours on your shoulders. Something along the lines of him not wanting you to irritate the burns any further or getting them infected. You let San take your bag knowing he’ll whine if you don’t and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You invite San inside and he’s surprised with the style of your apartment and how you chose to decorate it. It’s not the last thing he thought it would be, but it definitely wasn’t his first. None-the-less San’s more than impressed with your style and even suggests you be an interior designer. The two of you enjoy the rest of the day watching tv and even cook a simple dinner together. Half-way through one of the movies you guys decided to turn on you fall asleep, your head resting against San’s chest as he has one arm wrapped around you. He only notices you fell asleep when he hears your light snores. He smiles and pulls you a little closer and makes sure the blanket you have is completely on you. San also takes the time to grab your tablet from the coffee table and begins an email to your design professors letting them know about what had happen today. He doesn’t specifically know which class you have with those two girls but he’s just playing safe and contacting all the professors anyway. He isn’t going to let anything or one else hurt you.

#ateez #ateez au #ateez choi san #ateez san #choi san #san #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez fluff #college au #coffee shop au #barista au #kpop imagines #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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Forget Me Not || Morgan & Vic

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @natusvincere & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: The women gather more than just weeds and thorns when Vic comes to visit. Maybe we should have stayed home. :/

CONTAINS: Brief references to homophobia

Morgan set her basket down in the garden and brushed the frost from Deirdre’s pansies as she made herself comfortable in the earth for weeding. She was here to tend her own patch of witch hazel and tending to her lavender saplings, which were sectioned off only by placement, indistinguishable to everyone but her and Deirdre. She tended the yellow buds and tender stalks with swift, decisive care, until she heard her guest come through the gate.

“Over here!” She called. Strangely, she hadn’t been all that surprised when Vic wanted to do something calm, even gentle, on their friend date. She came off as brusque and dismissive online, but the times Morgan had seen her at the local art gallery, her look was so thoughtful and sad. She didn’t strike Morgan as someone with a thirst for violence so much as someone in pain. Of course, this was exactly why Morgan thought keeping sharp on her training skills with Victoria would be a good idea, but she didn’t have enough drive in the idea to push for it. She would rather heal herself than stay on her toes, expecting violence sooner than later. No, this was better.

When her friend came through the gate, Morgan waved and beckoned her over. “If it’s too cold for you, we can always duck inside. I’ll have you know I am a very good cook.”

Morgan Beck was certainly an anomaly in White Crest. In a world full of annoying, nosy fools who always seemed to have a sinister endgame, Morgan offered a calm, gentle contrast that Vic wasn’t sure she’d ever been used to. Though Morgan was still at arm’s length, it wasn’t often that Vic let anyone get so close, not in a genuine way, at least. There was too much risk- of abandonment, of death, of someone lurking in the shadows, ready to whisk the happiness away in a heartbeat. And then there was the problem of Morgan’s obvious lack of a beating heart, stirring questions deep in Vic of the morality of the situation. She refused to become friends with a vampire (ignoring the pull for friendship she often felt for Fran, what a ridiculous, weak thought). Morgan never questioned her request for an evening gardening session, free from the threat of the sun, which was also slightly alarming.

Even as she walked up to the address Morgan provided her, she wasn’t quite sure she’d stay. But then Morgan’s voice was beckoning her over, and Vic rolled her eyes as if closing the distance between them was an inconvenience. “I thought you needed help gardening”, she said, glancing toward the small studio behind Morgan and trying to hide her disappointment at the thought of a change of plans. “I mean, if you’re cold, it’s fine, but I’m okay.” She blinked, pulling gardening gloves out of her pocket, not giving Morgan a chance to protest. “What do you like to cook?”, she asked as she slipped them on.

Morgan grinned sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure what I actually said was, I’d really appreciate it if you would garden with me, since you seem to know so much about it.” She didn’t need help so much as she wanted to get to know Vic better. There was something familiar about the woman, a loneliness that seemed, to Morgan, to ache as much as it bristled. Morgan wanted to slip her hand past all the thorns and brambles Vic planted around her and clear just enough room for her to realize this was no way to be. Whatever she feared or grieved, it could be okay. “But you don’t need to sound so disappointed. There’s plenty of work here to keep us occupied for an hour or two.” She gestured to the weeds and the azaleas in need of watering. “But any longer and we probably will have to duck inside so you--we--don’t catch a chill or anything, huh?” As for her cooking, Morgan opted to claim the pride she held in her accomplishments. “Oh, lots of things. I bake a lot of pie and pastry, so I’m starting to get into the savory variety of those. And some traditional Irish dishes, for my girlfriend. But she says everything I make tastes good, so I’m not sure how successful they really are.”

“We don’t need to argue semantics”, Vic said, sending Morgan a stern glance. She didn’t know how to respond to the compliments or kindness, it was too much to think about. It was more useful to ignore them all together. If Morgan was going to continue to be sickeningly sweet, she better get used to that reaction. She let out a phantom breath at the sight of the weeds, happy to get started clearing them away with expert hands. There was something peaceful about the act- some sort of silent therapy in cleaning up the weeds of the physical world when the ones that wrapped themselves up inside her heart and stomach sat there so stubbornly. She furrowed her eyebrows at Morgan’s small slip-up, wondering what she meant. “If you insist… but I don’t know how long I’ll stay”, she warned. Truth be told, getting cozy inside of Morgan’s studio with a small bite sounded nice, even if she could live without the eating. But the risk that came with it was greater than it was worth.

She had been working rather absent mindedly, only half listening to Morgan’s rambling, when one word stuck out to her like a bell in a storm of silence. “You have a girlfriend”, she asked, her hands pausing among the weeds. “I didn’t realize you were… I didn’t realize you weren’t…” she swallowed, clearing her throat awkwardly. “That’s… nice for you. Do you...enjoy having a girlfriend?”

Morgan looked sidelong at Vic as she froze and sputtered over the mention of the word ‘girlfriend.’ “Is the phrase you’re looking for, ‘not hetero’? Not all lesbians look like Ellen, Vic. Some of us like wearing skirts sometimes. Some of us even wear lipstick.” Laughing, she smacked her pink painted lips to emphasize her point. She stopped pretending to work and shifted so she could sit and look at Vic straight on. She didn’t know what kind of uncomfortable the woman had fallen into, if it was just embarrassment or latent homophobia or something more tragic.

“I’m in love, Vic,” she said after a while. “I spent most of my adolescence convinced that the sheer magnitude of my gay was a literal curse on my family, and then the next ten or so years being closeted and awkward and afraid and pretty much all the time after that being convinced that even with Don’t Ask Don’t Tell repealed, even with Obergefell v. Hodges, I was just not a person made to share a whole life with someone. And I did everything I was supposed to, I made do, I tried as much as I could be brave enough to try, but I was practically forty without a relationship lasting longer than six months. Dating for all people is hard, but for me, and probably for a lot of queer gals...it’s a different kind of hard. And then I fell in love, and in spite of our mountains of trauma, our fears, we fit in such a way that...it’s like being held. She looks at me, she smiles at me, she touches my hair or squeezes my hand or says something and it’s like being held. It’s a kind of safety I didn’t know I could have.” She shrugged and fished out her phone to show Vic the lock screen: Deirdre laying sprawled on a window seat in their home, all three cats sleeping peacefully on her, as she looked up at the camera with an adoring, sleepy look on her face, in that bright instant when she realized she was being photographed and composed her face. Morgan had been going for a candid shot, but she was still beautiful, still warm, still herself, and that alone made the image worth keeping. “If you’d told me that this would be my life even a year ago, I would’ve thought you were being cruel. But not every surprise life throws at you is a bad one.”

Morgan looked good and hard at Vic, trying to guess if anything had changed, if she suddenly had one foot out the door, if she should let her. “At the end of the day, I feel like everyone deserves to be known, and understood, and loved. Even if it’s just for a little while. Life is so fleeting, and there is so much beyond our control, but nothing else, people should be loved, by whoever they want, however they want, however the magic of attraction or understanding works out.” She held her gaze, still searching. “How do you feel about it? Have you ever been in love, Vic?”

“Ellen is insufferable”, Vic muttered. Her hands returned to busying themselves with the weeds, but Vic’s ears were focused on the rambling falling from Morgan’s heart. Love. She was in love, with a woman, so openly and freely without a goddamn care in the world. Still, her naivety sparked something inside of the woman, and despite her best efforts, she let her eyes land on Morgan’s, taking in every word as if they were the sweetest sounds she’d heard in years. Maybe they were. She let the rest of the world believe the was aloof about politics and world events, but she could admit, at least to herself, that she had much of the same reaction when the United States seemed to offer more and more rights to LGBT couples in the last 20 years than they had in her near 500 years on this Earth. It was both exciting and frightening. She hadn’t realized it, but she was nodding at Morgan’s words with a silent expression on her face, one that told Morgan she related more than she was willing to admit. Her features softened even more at the picture she was offered, and it was all she could do not to reach out and snatch the phone from Morgan’s hands. There was so much hope in her voice- so much warmth and love and happiness. And then the way she spoke of her girlfriend, as if nothing more in the world mattered, as if everything made sense in her arms, it sounded so much like-

No. No, no, no, no. She wouldn’t think of her. She would not think of that time in her life. It was frivolous, useless, tragic, awful, devastating, painful...

Seemingly suddenly, she stood up, looking away from Morgan with hard, angry features. Her beat of silence lasted an uncomfortable amount of time. “Love doesn’t exist, Morgan”, she said finally, her voice devoid of emotion. “It’s the harsh truth. Better you realize that now, than to have your heart broken down the road.” She turned away from her willing the moisture in her eyes to disperse without her bringing attention to it. “I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but that’s how it is.”

Morgan saw the pain and the longing in Vic’s face as she finally met her eyes. So, it wasn’t homophobia. Or if so, not the kind she wanted to send people away over. She followed Vic to her feet, waiting for the admission, as if it wasn’t already telegraphed by the tears shining in her eyes. “Vic...” Morgan whispered.

And then she spoke, stiff and hard as the shears she’d been handling a second ago.

“Of course it exists,” she replied, soft and patient. There was no arguing, just as you wouldn’t get worked up over reminding someone that the sun hung in the sky and flowers needed light and water to grow. She walked around to face Vic again. Whatever pain the woman was running from, she wanted to look at it with her, to understand where it had come from and how deeply it was buried. “Love is as real as air, or flowers fooled by a false spring…” she offered Vic a purple bloom from her hand, a gift, and a point. “I think some part of you knows that, too. Or you did once. What I don’t understand right now is who convinced you of such an awful lie, and what made you choose to say that to me just now.” She tilted her head and leaned in, anything to make the woman look at her. “Can you tell me, Vic?”

Vic scoffed out a laugh at Morgan’s insistence, looking to the side with a cynical shake of her head. Love- long, everlasting love, was a fantasy, and Morgan was fooling herself. In a cruel life that lasted forever, everything had an end. And fate, with her twisted, evil intent, liked to make sure the end of happy things like love were especially tragic. She let her eyes fall on the flower offered to her, but her hand didn’t budge to reach for it, no matter how much it ached to. Instead, her eyes finally found Morgan’s, a mix of anger and sorrow gleaming from them. Why was she doing this? Morgan didn’t know anything about her, and somehow she sat here, gently demanding the truth- as if talking things out could make centuries of sorrow disappear. “I convinced myself. Nothing happened, nothing is wrong, this is just something one knows. You’re living in a fantasy, Morgan. And nothing will come out of it but pain.” She blinked, watching Morgan and waiting. Waiting for her to demand that she leave, to tell her they’d never speak again thanks to her outburst. When nothing seemed to happen, she let out an annoyed huff. “I didn’t come here to discuss personal lives. I came here to garden. If we’re not going to do that, I suppose I’ll just leave.”

The anguish in Vic’s expression was only too recognizable to Morgan. She inched closer, as if she could read her trauma in her pores if she squinted hard enough. “People don’t convince themselves of anything that awful for no reason,” she said quietly. She flinched back as Vic flexed her cold stiffness, shutting Morgan out.

“You asked me,” she said. “I said one thing about fucking Irish stew, actually less than that! And then you asked me! Why is that? Is it because you’ve shut yourself so much that hearing about other people’s happiness is the only thing you have left? Because there’s nothing stopping you from being happy, Vic. You could have someone, you could at least have hope, if you weren’t spending all your energy into being like this. But why try to crush my happiness, why try to argue with me that everything I have isn’t real? Does it make you feel better when other people are as sad and hurt as you are, or do you actually think that you’re the only person who understands the world? Oh, stars, or better yet, are you actually so naive as to think that suffering makes you wise? Because I have some big news, teenage drama queen!”

She stared at the woman, searching and accusing. Her mouth throbbed with anger. She didn’t know this woman half as well as she thought she did. She hadn’t imagined that she could be cruel. Not to her, not with this much determination. But there was something in Vic that made them similar too, she reminded herself. She could see it in the water glazing her eyes, in the clench of her jaw. It was so much work, it must get exhausting sometimes, even if it had become muscle memory. She softened and breathed slowly. Her body didn’t need it, but it was a good distraction for her mind. She’d been caught off guard, and so she’d been hurt, but she didn’t know this woman. She didn’t have all the pieces she needed to understand any more than Vic had all the pieces to understand her. She had no idea how insulting she’d been, and so Morgan couldn’t hold that against her.

“You aren’t the only person who has suffered, Vic,” she said, her voice calm and even now. “And my decision to be happy, to love someone, doesn’t mean that I’ve been living some kind of gay Nancy Meyers fairy tale. You don’t know a thing about what I’ve lost or what pits scraped myself out of. I know what it feels like to have nothing, to have only your own suffering for company. I know. But I’m not going to play some cynicism game to prove it to you. I want to be your friend, and I don’t need you to see everything like I do…” Not yet, anyway. “But you don’t have to be so cruel. I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve that, and I don’t think that’s the person you really are anyway.”

Vic stood there, stoic and unblinking as Morgan unleashed onto her. Her jaw was clenched and she swallowed hard, but she refused to let emotion show on her face. This was, despite the swirl of emotions dancing deep in her chest, each of Morgan’s accusations stirring a new wave of recognizable dread. Morgan was speaking as if she knew her, as if they were friends, as if they had some deep connection that Vic had just severed by saying how she felt.

She was speaking the truth, and it was all too much to handle. She scoffed out a bitter laugh, shaking her head at the name calling. Morgan’s grandmother wasn’t even alive when Vic was a teenager.

There was a moment after Morgan’s calm words, a beat that hung in the air between them, but it was directly followed up with the storm that was Vic. “Are you done?” she asked, her voice coming out with more uneasy gravel than she intended. “You’re the one being dramatic if you think me offering words of advice is so offensive.” The words fell out of her mouth like lava, burning and vicious and unstoppable. Later, when she was alone in the dark of the night, she’d bore over them, wondering why, why, why she didn’t ever stop. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Everything you think you know is made up in your head to make things seem nicer. I haven’t suffered, to burst your bubble, I’m just a shitty fucking person. We’re not friends!” The silence that followed was deafening, encompassing, suffocating. They weren’t friends, they never would be, because there was nothing friendly or lovable she could offer. She wiped at her eyes, finding tears there once more. Weak. With a flare of her nostrils, she turned on her heels, running out of Morgan’s garden in double the time it’d taken her to arrive. Going there, thinking something nice would come out of it, was a mistake, and she was sure she’d never be back.

#wr vic #wr chatzy #wr vic chatzy #wickedswriting

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colorsicantsee · 4 years ago

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Seblaine- Present Day (June/Year1)

Para: All's Well That Ends Well To End Up With You

Rating: PG-13..

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Year One: Present Day- June. About a month after- I Don’t Wanna End It When We’re Only Just Beginning; Part ONE and Part TWO.

Location: Brooklyn, New York

Info: Sebastian knows how lonely Blaine can get when he’s gone so he surprises him with a trip to the Animal Shelter. Blaine makes a new friend and starts to think he might not be giving enough of himself to his wonderful person.

Warnings: This particular para includes- Brief mentions of sexual situations and mentions of past abuse. This rp as a whole mentions past abuse(Physical, mental and sexual), possible unwanted sexual situations, anxiety, depression, negative body image, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Title taken from-Taylor Swift- Lover

NOTES: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Under Cut for length. As usual the para’s are mostly unedited.

Sebastian’s POV:

Things had been okay. Sebastian was getting his school work done and hadn’t touched alcohol in months. Blaine was going to work and therapy sessions regularly. The two of them had been comfortable and open with each other and things were just...calm. Calm was a feeling that Seb hadn’t known for a long time. Even when he was a teenager and spent his days hanging off of Blaine’s words and soft touches, his emotions felt so dizzy and intense. Calm was nice, it was welcome and not something he had known he craved for years.

Though Seb felt some sort of small slice of peace, he wondered if B felt the same way. Of course he knew that his boyfriend was happy and satisfied with their relationship and the way things were going. He knew that Blaine was, to be cliché, fighting an uphill battle mentally. The other man had been through a lot in his young life and Sebastian accepted that. He understood that some things took time to fix and it wasn’t his sole responsibility to stitch up B’s sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t help, couldn’t hand the other man the tools.

Sebastian wasn’t sure where the idea had come from. Maybe he had heard Sarah McLachlan croon from an elevator speaker, maybe it was the grey, grumpy cat that hung around the chip aisle at his local bodega. But, it had popped in Seb’s head that maybe Blaine might benefit from a pet. He had personally never had one, but he had always wanted a dog. He didn’t think he could ever take care of anything but he knew that B would be a natural.

Seb picked up the phone and shot the other man a quick text. He had made an appointment at the animal shelter nearest Blaine’s place; This Saturday I have a surprise for you.

The day arrived and Sebastian wouldn’t give in to any of Blaine’s questions or distracting bribery techniques.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

They had arrived at the large brick building and he watched his boyfriend’s face as he figured out where they were.

“Before you say anything, I’m paying all of the fees. I’ll take care of the pet rent, too. I also wanna get everything else you need for you new pet”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine felt good. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d feel this good after having one of his worst, irrational panic attacks he’d have mirthlessly laughed in their face. Yet here he was, feeling the best he’d felt in a long time. It was almost alarming. A big part of him was so scared that it was all going to go to shit at any second now, that he’d fall apart and panic over nothing once more and he’d have to beg Seb to help him calm down with reassurances that he already had to begin with. He hated those thoughts, hated that a big part of him still couldn't grasp that he deserved this happiness and that nothing was going to take it away.

On the other hand there was another part of him that knew he deserved it, knew that things were finally falling into place for him and that he was finally living the kind of life he thought he’d be living when he was a teen. Sure, he still hadn’t ventured out to Sebastian’s apartment in Manhattan yet and a few of his classes were still online, and he was still overworking himself to make up for his guilt over taking Cooper’s money afraid that his big brother might think he was slacking off or didn’t appreciate the loan- even though once he turned twenty-five his parents trust would come through and he’d be okay. Still, he was happy and he wanted to cling to the good feelings and hold them close to his chest in case he ever forgot or to remind him when he had bad days.

He’d been taking his medicine as he should. And even though there was nothing wrong with it he had stopped drinking wine with his meals. He wanted to encourage Sebastian and he’d noticed a difference in how he felt when he woke up in the morning. No more dull headaches or shame over what he might have said while tipsy. He’d been meeting up with his friends more- Sam and David were both surprised when he’d reach out to them to invite them to lunch or even just video games in his apartment. He hadn’t realized how much he was actually neglecting them and it took feeling better to see his errors.

He’d even been trying to call Cooper regularly though his brother was always suspicious when he did so. And of course he’d been spending time with Sebastian. It was like the two of them had just fallen into place with each other, like they just fit and should have always been this way. And as cheesy as it sounded, Blaine was no stranger to cheesy, they just felt meant to be. And that made Blaine feel all the more happy.

His happiness was edged with nerves and excitement as he sat in Sebastian’s passenger seat and his boyfriend drove them to his surprise. Seb rarely drove, but he had picked him up and had been mum about what they might be doing. Blaine had even pressed a playful kiss to Seb’s favorite spot in his neck to try and get an answer, but all that did was get a wicked grin and a promise for maybe later. Blaine settled for holding Seb’s hand and trying not to let his brain overwork itself with what it might be. As they pulled up to a big red bricked building with the worlds Animal Rescue in big white letters across the side, Blaine’s heart did a flip as well as his stomach. He turned to look at Seb who had prepared an argument.

“Seb, that’s too much money! I can’t take that!” But once Seb had his mind made up there really was no changing it. He took a deep breath and let his boyfriend lead him into the building, the sounds of dogs barking echoing off the walls and into his ears. Blaine had always wanted a pet growing up, he’d had a puppy when he was very young, but his father proved to be allergic and he was such a busy kid he found it hard to be there for his canine friend. He still remembered his sniffles as his mom and him dove away after dropping him off at his new home. Sure, Blaine was still just as busy, but he had his own space now, and the thought of having something to come home to instead of an empty, lonely apartment sounded wonderful. Sebastian couldn’t just live there.

He was nervous as the person whose name tag read Matthew showed them around and explained how adoption worked. And when they asked Blaine if he’d like to see the dogs or cats first Blaine surprised himself by asking for the cats.

“I’d like to see the cats, if that’s alright?” Matthew smiled and led the two of them into a room where about a dozen cats were free to roam. It was a playroom of sorts, set up to look like trees and leaves. He’d never really seen a place like this before, most of the cats were sad looking and locked up in cages. He found out soon enough that all of the cats in here were kittens and it was better to let them roam and play together. Blaine sat down in one of the chairs so as not to scare them away but was a little overwhelmed by all the darting fluff and every time he’d settle on one, they’d run away in a blur of white or grey or orange and flip themselves onto one of their playmates. He was just about to ask to see the adult cats when he felt tiny paws on cheek. He looked up and was met with a pair of too large orange eyes in the tiniest black furred body. The little thing was batting at his cheek as if saying- hey, hey I’m here, look at me! It was so small and tucked into one of the little fake leaves that stuck out from the wall, that Blaine had completely missed it at first glance.

“Hey there little one.” Blaine said softly, and reached out to gently pull it into his arms. The kitten instantly stuck his face into Blaine’s and nuzzled against him before batting at one of his curls. Matthew spoke up- “That’s Soot, she’s about six months old, yes, I know she looks so much younger. But, she was born here. She’s been adopted twice and both times she was brought back. It’s a shame. The first person said it was because her child had accidentally stepped on her because she was too small, and the second one said that his girlfriend didn’t want a black cat because they were “bad luck” and feared if she got out she’d be sacrificed or something. She’s naturally tiny and no one seems to want her. If you ask me they just weren't the right fit for her, and their loss because Soot is the sweetest kitten here. And I think she likes you.”

No one wants her? Blaine’s heart squeezed at the thought of someone hurting this sweet little thing and he had to blink back a swell of emotion as she lifted her head and stuck her nose against his lips as if to kiss him! Her head bobbing like she was drunk. She was probably just smelling him but it almost broke his heart in two and he knew that he wouldn't be leaving without her. She had already snuggled into the crook of his arm and was purring so softly, the vibrations tickling Blaine’s arm. The sensation instantly calmed him. He was half in love already. And even though he was worried about taking Seb’s money he looked up at his boyfriend pleadingly, the words getting stuck in his throat, his eyes bright. His voice was shaky and his emotional display would have embarrassed him if he were really thinking about it, but all he could think about was her cold little paws pressed against his arm, her tiny claws kneading him slightly.

“I-I do. I mean, I want her. Please, Seb?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Seb had had a feeling that Blaine was going to visit the room where the cats and kittens were kept. From what he understood, cats were pretty low maintenance and despite what people might say, could form loyal bonds with their owners. Plus, B wouldn’t have to take a cat down the many flights of stairs to go outside at random hours of the day. A cat could watch itself while he worked and went to school and even if he ever spent the night at Sebastian’s.

Blaine’s eyes lit up when they walked into the room covered in acrobatic leaves and man made branches for the cats to climb and lounge on. Sebastian crouched on the floor next to where his boyfriend sat and observed the tiny creatures wrestle and bathe themselves. The older cats that were awake in the cages meowed and pressed their wet noses against the bars trying to get Matthew’s attention. They were probably looking for some new food, he thought to himself.

He hadn’t even caught the moment that the little black ball of fur ended up in his boyfriend’s arms. It seemed as if the two of them had known each other for years, the little thing was emitting little trills of pleasure as it worked its claws into his sleeve. B’s eyes were glossy when the attendant mentioned that Soot had been returned a few times. Sebastian bit his lip and knew that this was the one.

“Of course. This is the whole reason we came.” He smiled at his boyfriend and reached over so the kitten could sniff his fingers. Sebastian looked up at Matthew, “Where do we fill out the papers and pay the fees? She’s ours.”

Soot was loaded into a cardboard box with little holes poked in the side. She didn’t like it and kept poking her black nose through and basically screaming at them to let her out. Blaine filled out all of the paper work with giddy energy and Sebastian handed over his card for them to swipe. He hadn’t been worried about how much it would be but she was surprisingly cheap since she had been brought back a couple times.

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Blaine as he clutched the noisy box in his arms. He sat in the passenger seat smiling as he gently held onto his new pet’s carrier. They drove around for a few minutes before they found a pet store.

“Don’t be shy in here. There’s no limit.”

Blaine blushed and began to protest.

“You need litter, a cat box. Food, she obviously needs some toys, too. Don’t forget about a water dish.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s heart fluttered against his ribcage, a feeling he couldn’t quite place fell over him when he heard Sebastian say ‘She’s ours’. She was theirs now. They had done something big together. He let out a little laugh and fought the urge to pull Seb into a thank you kiss right in front of Matthew. He nodded, barely believing that he was actually going to get to take a living creature home with him and as he signed the paperwork and Sebastian paid he felt even happier than he had when the day started and that was saying something considering he didn’t think he could feel any happier. Instead of something terrible throwing a wrench into his joy he’d been gifted the most adorable thing.

Blaine settled back against Sebastian’s comforting arm as his boyfriend drove away so they could shop for her. She sat on his lap in her little cardboard crate, screaming for attention and slipping her tiny little paw out through the holes before shoving her nose through it. She did this over and over again. Blaine pet her nose and her paws to calm her, but didn’t let her out for fear that she’d get lost in the car. He was so excited, he couldn’t wait to share his apartment with her. Wondered if she’d like his music, or if she would sit in the window and stalk birds, wondered if she’d cuddle up on his pillow as he slept. He realized then that the thought of Sebastian having to go home and leave him alone for the night later on wasn’t as hard to stomach as it had been the day before. Of course he hated that part. When Seb couldn’t stay because of early classes or whatnot. He wanted his boyfriend there all the time, he felt safer and more whole, had gotten used to letting Seb’s arms be around him, letting his hands touch him without tensing up and he loved it, but maybe, just maybe, with Soot in the picture he wouldn’t stay up too late wishing he wasn’t alone. Maybe she’d help take the edge off his nighttime loneliness away.

The store welcomed animals so he was able to put her little crate into the cart Seb had gotten for him and he was thankful, couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her out in the car. He was still nervous about the cost, animals were not cheap and he was on his own now, Cooper’s year of “free” rent was pretty much up and almost all of his extra money went into his apartment and food. He knew he was lucky, most college kids had to stay in dorms or be extremely well off to make it like this. But when Cooper had helped get him out of his horrible situation with Kurt, a dorm wasn’t an option. They both knew Blaine couldn’t handle all of those people around him, couldn’t handle a stranger in his room. His severe anxiety wouldn’t let him. Maybe luck wasn’t the right word actually considering, but either way, Blaine got to live alone and that money added up. He hadn't gotten a pet in the first place despite desperately wanting company that couldn’t hurt him over the last year and a half because he couldn’t afford it. It was like Seb had read his mind, finding thoughts that Blaine himself didn’t really think of often.

“Seb, this is all going to add up. Are you sure?” Seb was sure and Blaine had to really look at him before he let himself put anything in the cart. He meant what he said. He’d help. And Blaine would find a way to come up with vet money so he could get her fixed, he’d find a way. Even though he had a feeling Sebastian would try and help with that too. Over the next half hour he and Seb had managed to get her about twelve new toys ranging from mice to a wand with a fish on the end to a scratching post with a fuzzy heart hanging off of it. She had a giant bag of food meant for kittens under a year old, a food bowl, water dish, litter box, and a little red collar with a bell so small Blaine was sure he’d never hear it. The total was too much, and Blaine instantly felt like a bad cat dad because he wouldn’t have been able to afford that if he were doing this on his own. But when he voiced it Seb shook his head and reminded him that this was a present.

On the way back to his apartment Blaine made the appropriate call to inform his landlord that he’d gotten a cat and that he’d bring in the money first thing. He tried not to cringe when he was told the deposit price. It’s a gift, Blaine. Let him do this for you. He made it through the call without much resistance, the landlord seemed hesitant at first, but since they didn’t have a no pet policy she had no choice but to let him do it. The two of them set up the little apartment before letting the little lady out of her crate and Blaine made sure the bathroom door was shut so she couldn’t go hide there. He wished he had a door to his bedroom, but it was so small there weren’t many places she could go. She let him put her new collar on without struggle, pressed her forehead against his cheek and squirmed to be let down. She sniffed around the room, and made her way across the small apartment, poking her nose in everything before settling on her food, took a bite, then a drink and then promptly darted across the living room floor and dived right into the scratching post and busied herself playing with the fuzzy heart hanging off of it. He couldn’t help but laugh from his spot on the couch. They were quiet for a moment as they watched her play.

“I think I’ll keep the name. I mean look at her, she looks like a soot spot against the wood floor. It’s pretty perfect.” He paused, his eyes glued to her little body. She was playing so hard, it was like she hardly noticed she had been taken to a completely new place. She seemed at home, and when Blaine clicked his tongue against his teeth and said her name softly in a high voice, she actually came over to him and rubbed her scent all over his hand and leg, she went and did the same to Sebastian before once again darting and diving. This time at once of the little mice. She flipped onto her back and she rabbit kicked it before doing it all again, her micro bell tinkling as she moved. Guess he could hear it after all.

Blaine was fucking obsessed.

“God, I can’t believe no one wanted her. “ He finally turned his gaze to Seb and reached out to take his hand, linking their fingers together. He scooted so he was close to him, his hand sliding up to his chin to bring his face down to his before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He did it again, his own lips slipping into a small, bright smile.

“Thank you. You have no idea how happy this has made me. I-I didn’t think… well, I didn’t know I needed this. I still feel like it’s too much money… But, I’m gonna accept it, she’s perfect.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian helped Blaine unpack all of Soot’s new toys. He helped set up the cat box and insisted on pouring the litter even though he had never done it before. I mean, how hard could it be? A giant puff of grey dust surprised him and made him cough and flail a little bit. The scene had made Blaine laugh, though and that had made the mess worth it.

Soot seemed to fall into an easy playful mode immediately. She looked like she had always belonged in the apartment. The two of them watched her, laughing at her ridiculous belly flops and wobbly jumps.

“I think the name is perfect. She’s like a little smudge.” Sebastian pressed in closer to Blaine’s side. He could not only see his boyfriend’s happiness but he could feel it radiate off of him. Sebastian felt pleased. B now had a little companion to warm the lonely nights he had to be away, to hold on to when he felt upset.

Blaine never had to come home to an empty apartment again. Seb thought that that sounded great, his own empty apartment felt cold and haunted at times. Not literally, of course (he’d fucking move.) but by the past. The stench of vodka would sweep by him when he felt bored. Sometimes his sheets didn’t feel clean enough, seemed matted with bad nights and past lovers. He was thankful that Blaine didn’t have to experience that, that he could walk into the tinkle of a little jingle bell and the flash of orange eyes looking for their food bowl to be filled.

Sebastian shook his thoughts away and focused on the kitten again. “I’m glad. You guys are a perfect match.” He pressed into the kiss, he could feel Blaine’s smile against his lips. Sebastian loved that feeling.

“You’re welcome.” He wanted to insist that the money didn’t matter but didn’t want to come across as braggy. Sebastian found that his careless feelings about spending offended some people. He used to not care, would swipe his card with a smirk and casually mention his big purchases. Seb had grown so fucking annoyed by himself after he started getting cleaned up. He had become better and knew that B spent a lot of time worrying about money. Sebastian found it better to just let that part of the conversation go. “Always glad to help. I wanted to do this.”

“Do you think she’ll tucker herself out soon?”

Blaine’s POV:

“You wanted to make me the happiest man ever? God, you’re so good to me, I really don’ t know that I deserve it.” He smiled up at Seb after their shared kisses, relishing in the simplicity of the moment. He wondered if Sebastian ever thought of getting a pet himself, he wondered how big his apartment was. Sure, it was New York, but as he knew, Seb had money and his parents never taught him to shy away from it. Did his home ever get lonely too? Blaine had never even been there before. Had a hard time imagining himself there, letting himself be touched or kissed there, or undressed and bare. Because it wasn’t a space of comfort that he’d built himself. And spending too much time in Manhattan was difficult for Blaine to think about, sure, he knew how to avoid Kurt, knew his spots, knew Rachel’s spots. He’d known how to avoid Seb for three years before this too. But there were so many memories attached to the place, bad ones. Spots where Kurt would drag him and then humiliate him. So many places to avoid. It was also the place where you and Seb reconnected, he reminded himself. You managed to go to that Warbler party, you could totally go to his apartment.

God, everything with them really had happened just so fast. Both times they’d been together and Blaine knew, without a shadow of doubt that Sebastian was the only person he’d ever want to touch him again. He still tensed up sometimes, still loved that Seb showed his hands before reaching for him even though they’d done so much together, it helped him. He still got nervous before intimate moments. They’d had sex a couple more times since he’d panicked and he loved every minute together. He trusted Sebastian and only Sebastian with his body and even more, his mind. He knew that he always had trusted him and maybe that meant that he could trust himself to be intimate in a new place. Sebastian’s space. The man had just given Blaine an incredible gift that he otherwise couldn’t afford and had uprooted himself to spend all of his free time over here, in a shitty small Brooklyn apartment in a shitty neighborhood. Blaine felt he needed to give him more. Why was the thought so hard?

He looked over at the kitten, Soot was still hopping around, her little paws making the daintiest sounds on his scuffed wood floors as she jumped and landed on her feet. Little Soot showed no sign of stopping, but then again, from what he knew about cats and the countless animal videos he’d watched over the years to cheer himself up the creatures seemed to play hard and then promptly pass out like a loaf of bread.

“I don’t know, she’s going pretty hard though.” He reached out and grabbed the stick with the fish on the end and she instantly started to chase it. She grew bored when Blaine wasn’t fast enough on wiggling the string and pounced over to a new mouse, and as the two of them laughed at her, she visibly started to slow and then she sat down on her tummy, hiding the mouse under her little body and then she tucked her paws under her chest like they were cold, then her eyes started to close and she was purring loudly as she fell asleep, her head pressed into the scratching post mat.

“Well, I guess there’s your answer… I mean, could you imagine falling asleep that fast? And we’ll never be that fucking comfortable.” Blaine chuckled, looking back up at Seb in amazement, his smile so big his cheeks kind of hurt from the happiness.

And there it was- the tiniest bit of clean litter dust clinging to Sebastian’s cheek and it reminded Blaine of the snowflake that had clung to Seb’s cheek that nerve wracking, miserably bittersweet New Year’s Eve night on a Manhattan rooftop, six short months ago. The night that had set this whole relationship back into motion. The night that un-paused their story and dusted off their beautiful and imperfectly perfect book cover and set them back on their path. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if he didn’t accept, how bad off would he be now? He took a deep breath and reached out to brush his thumb over the spot. His skin tingling as he brushed it away. It wasn’t as pretty as a snowflake, but the way it had gotten there had made him laugh and he wanted to hold onto this moment just as close as the snowflake moment. That night could have ended them in further disaster, but Blaine had taken a chance because Seb had done the same and had reached out.

They had come so far since that night and yet it felt like they’d always been here. The four years they spent apart were the worst ones of Blaine’s life, and while it wasn’t just because they were apart, there were many factors, but not being together was a big one. A mistake that had cost them greatly. As he leaned against his boyfriend now, in this moment, he knew that he’d made the right choice in accepting Seb’s invitation after that night. He bit his bottom lip, his smile taking him out of his what- could- have- happened memories and putting him back in the now because Seb was here and there present day choice had gotten them this far. The ‘what ifs’ didn’t matter anymore.

“You had cat litter stuck to your cheek.” He tried to laugh but his voice came out a bit breathy. “I know you can’t stay tonight, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have great company and it’ll feel a little better here. But, you don’ t have to leave just yet do you?” He felt selfish even asking, he knew Seb had a lot of studying to do and that he studied better in his own place without distraction. “I mean, just for a few more hours? We don’t have to do anything big. We could just hang out? I can make us dinner and we could watch one of your trashy shows you love so much. Just for two hours even, maybe by then she’ll be awake and I'll have some entertainment.” He tried to keep his tone teasing, but Seb had done so much for him today and he didn’t want him to go yet. So he laughed and then swallowed, working himself up for his next question.

“And maybe soon, um, like in the next month or so I could, well, maybe spend the weekend at your place? I could make you your first home cooked meal in your actual house. You could show me your favorite spots around your part of town, I mean, we’re always here. Your place is just as important as mine.” He gave a smile showing he meant it, his thumb tracing over Seb’s long fingers in a comforting rhythm to the sounds of his cat's sweet purrs. It may have seemed a simple request, but it was a big deal for him and Seb knew that because Blaine had never asked to go before, and Seb had never asked him there either. They both knew it would be a task creating a new comfort space for Blaine to be in and for Seb to share his life. But their relationship was more than this apartment and this part of New York, it was everywhere and Blaine wanted to show that.

It was out there now and he found he didn’t want to take it back.

Sebastian’s POV:

“I wish I could just imagine what it felt like to fall asleep that fast.” Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and watched the peaceful scene. “Your floor is a mess. I guess you better get used to it. There’s probably no need in picking it up, right? It’s really taking a lot for me to just...not start picking all of those mice up.” He laughed, “maybe we should get a tote or something for all of this crap.”

Sebastian could sense the change in Blaine’s honied eyes. He thumb brushed against his cheek, reminiscent of a snowy New Year’s Eve. He would have felt mortified for having fucking cat litter on his face if it weren’t for the look on the other man’s face. Blaine looked hopeful and was looking at Seb like he was the most perfect thing his eyes had ever fallen upon. Normally he’d say something sarcastic or witty but no words fell from his usually silver tongue. God, Blaine could make him feel so much better with just a glance of those damn eyes, the color of dead leaves, chrysanthemums, and sun tea. Seb swallowed the lump in his throat and tried for a sly smile, but instead his just for B grin spread across his face. “Of course. We can do whatever you want.” He cleared his throat, “Umm. I can make a pot of coffee when I get back and dig into my schoolwork.”

He was a little taken off guard when Blaine mentioned visiting his place. Sebastian could swear that Blaine could see his thoughts painted across his forehead or something. Maybe it just came with knowing somebody for so long or maybe Sebastian didn’t have as good of a poker face as he thought.

“We can do that. There’s no rush.” Sebastian laced his fingers with his boyfriend’s. “But, what will we ever do without Ms. Katy Perry watching over us like our very own gay Goddess?” He laughed and pointed at the candy colored poster on Blaine’s wall. “I don’t own anything quite that colorful. Just imagine like...an updated version of the apartment in American Psycho. God, that’s a terrible description isn’t it? But, my father did hand pick it after all so I suppose it’s on brand.” He took a breath,” all jokes aside, I’d love that. Now, what were you planning on making for dinner? I’d ask if you need my help but we both Know I would start a fire or cut my finger off or something.”

Blaine’s POV:

“It’s alright, Seb.” He shook his head and gently squeezed his boyfriend's hand. “I promise at bedtime I’ll pick all the toys up. I think I have a small container up in my closet that I can use until I can get something better. And the next time you’re here they won't be spread out like that, I just wanted to give her options for her first day here.” Of course Seb was worried about the little tornado of toys around his miniature apartment. Adorable.

Blaine noted the way Sebastian cleared his throat, his voice a little wobbly and emotional as he told him they could do whatever he wanted and he wondered if it was because he was thinking about the night they reconnected too. Seb was looking at him adoringly with his big grin, the one that only Blaine really got to see, and big green blue eyes that told him he’d done something right. He looked up at his boyfriend, and gave him a relieved smile as Seb relented and said he’d stay. He wanted nothing more than for Seb to always look at him that way. It wasn’t something he was used to, maybe years ago, but now, he had the chance again and he wasn’t going to let it drift away. And maybe wanting him to stay was selfish, but Blaine was never selfish and today he wanted to be.

“You’re right, what will we do?” He teased as he thought over what he had to cook in his small refrigerator. He laughed over the American Psycho quip because of course Seb’s house was sophisticated and plain. “I guess I’ll just have to decorate your house up with various pop stars, won’t I? I’ll make sure there’s an extra pop of fluorescent pink just for you. I’ll make sure your fairy lights are a delightful shade of purple. You can pay me back by keeping your axes in your car for the night.” He paused, giggling at their jokes before pressing another kiss to Seb’s lips. “I’d really love to be there, too. Let me go see what I can put together.”

Blaine didn’t have much, but he had ground turkey, pasta and cheese, red pepper flakes and some bread from the deli so he put together a simple spaghetti and meat sauce with a little bit of a kick and made his own garlic bread. Over the next three hours they sipped on coffee and iced water and watched one of Seb’s terrible reality shows while Soot snoozed away, exhausted from her busy day. And after the dishes were cleared and they were settled back on the couch they kissed and giggled and messed around a little bit. They didn’t get too serious, but their lips were swollen by the end of the night and Seb let Blaine put his hands all over him- teasing and touching until Blaine was sure Seb went home for the night completely satisfied.

After he’d gone, Blaine sent Sebastian a photo of all Soot’s toys cleaned up and tucked under the little coffee table so she could get them out when she wanted; See, all clean! To which Seb sent a photo back of his homework spread out in front of him, yet another cup of coffee just visible in the frame; Yes, looks so much better! And a bit later, in bed, right before falling asleep, Blaine sent Seb a photo of Soot curled up next to him against the wall by his head. Blaine angled it to show the empty space where Seb was absent; The only thing missing is you. <3. A bit later, Seb sent one of himself back, lying in bed, his chest exposed, with a little grin on his face. The spot next to him empty; Ditto. Your spot is waiting.

And then they fell asleep with declarations of I love you’s and wishes of goodnight’s from both of them.

/fin.

#Para: All's Well That Ends Well #Seblaine #twoblueheartslocked #colorsicantsee #para #seblaine canon divergence

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moody-bloosh · 5 years ago

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Idol Group: La Squadra di Esecuzione

have some headcanons of what la squadra as an idol group would be like. i really really like kpop so this au is really very close to my heart. i had so much fun conceptualizing what kind of boy group la squadra would be, researching. this is a little self - indulgent but i hope you all please enjoy uwu. i also listened to the official soundtrack of part 5 to get a feel for what their ‘music’ would sound like and wow. i initially just gave it a cursory listening but i found myself replaying it over and over again. i recommend that everyone give the soundtrack a listen too bc its really good!!!

They’re one of the biggest boy groups out there, their fame is dampened only because Diavolo refuses to actually pay them any proper attention. Although their comebacks are few and far between, they supplement this with their insanely active social media presence.

Their YouTube channel mostly has vlogs of them, and they’re always promising their fans that they’ll release a new album soon. In line with this fans have trended, “Passione Let La Squadra Out of the Basement” to get Diavolo to let them have a comeback.

Their concept is usually the edgy bad boy type. Though, they’ve been trying to branch out to other genres since they don’t want to be type cast. Their recent, boyfriend concept was really popular!

They have super powerful and physically taxing dance moves. Each of their choreos must include at least an ab flash or hip thrust. It’s a crowd pleaser.

They debuted with the song, ‘assassination,’ which had a hard hip hop vibe to it. It was a relative success and their first album sold a lot of copies too!

The threat of disbanding was always on their heads since privately, you were aware that Diavolo didn’t particularly like them. Thankfully, the boys’ strong fanbase and insistent public demand always kept them far away from Diavolo’s threats. After all, he would be crazy to disband them, right? RIGHT?!

Well after a nasty court battle regarding their poor pay, the La Squadra managed to get out of their contract with Passione Entertainment. They established their own company where they still promote and do their thing. (They managed to keep their names!)

Recently they signed the popular idol duo they were close friends with in Passione Sorbet & Gelato. They regularly collaborate.

Because of the dating scandal Sorbet & Gelato were involved in, they were kicked out of Passione Ent. and for a while they did most of their promotions by themselves.

Risotto is the leader and is everyone’s bias. You scouted him yourself personally and convinced him to become an idol. He has a bit of a crush on you, but it’s not like he’ll ever confess.

As he continued to practice and train with the group, he found himself really getting into the idea of becoming an idol, as long as it was with the guys. He’s very protective and caring of his group, when they first started off and they’d get hate comments, he would report or delete them all so that his fellow members wouldn’t see it.

Everyone fawned over his mysterious image but then as the group started doing more vlogs, everyone started to find out that deep down he’s a sweetheart and he got more fans because of it.

Prosciutto proudly writes and produces most of the songs, sometimes, he lets Risotto or Melone help him. He’s the son of a big music producer so music has always been in his DNA or so he says.

He wrote the group’s debut song which was originally called, “call me daddy,” you vetoed his suggestion. You only chuckled as you watched him all blushy as he tried to explain himself to you.

You reassured him that it was a good song just that it didn’t sound like their song. You told him not to get too caught up in copying and following the trend, but rather to make their own unique sound. He took your advice to heart and after giving it a lot of careful thought, he came out with the debut song in about a week.

Pesci was the center for the soft boyfriend concept and his popularity really started to pick up from there! Since Passione Ent. practically locked them into the edgy concept, they weren’t allowed to experiment much.

You scouted him yourself and convinced him to become an idol. He joined the company when he was young, and mainly because he wanted to help provide for his family. Prosciutto basically raised hiim, taking him under his wing.

He used to be very insecure, he wasn’t super talented at dancing and singing but he worked his hardest everyday and you could see that. He started gaining a personal passion for music after their debut and he saw all the smiles and cheers their group got from the people. Especially when his family gave him a call and told him how proud they were of him.

He’s very sweet to his fans, his solo stans are very protective of him. He is their sweet baby boy and any antis that try to hate on him get ELIMINATED IMMEDIATELY.

He gets homesick very easy and sometimes he thinks that he doesn’t belong in the group but you are always there to console him and you remind him that you scouted him for a reason.

They don’t get to go to much variety shows but whenever they do go, Formaggio is king. He’s naturally charismatic and likable so variety shows are always begging him to guest. He usually likes to take some of the members with him if they’re available.

He’s also the king of fan interaction, there are always videos of him during fansigns holding hands with fans, male and female alike, looking at them intently and calling them sweet nicknames. He’s also the one in charge of hyping up the crowd during live performances.

The self-designated mood maker of the group. Whenever everyone is tired from a particularly harsh session of practice, he’s always there to cheer everyone up and to keep everyone from getting too stressed. Though with that on his shoulders, you’re always there to give him a headpat, “take care of yourself too, okay, Formaggio?”

Illuso livestreams himself doing dance practice videos and he interacts with the fans whenever he does so. If he’s feeling particularly cheeky, he’ll give fans a flash of his abs. As the lead dancer, he takes up the job of teaching new choreographies to the other members. He’s a little mean of a teacher but he knows when to joke around and when to be serious.

“Please show us your abs Illuso,” he reads aloud before chuckling. “As if~”

Illuso works himself extremely hard, sometimes you’ll catch him in the dance studio still dancing and practicing. When he catches you, he just gives you a smug smirk, “like what you see, manager?” To which you smile and nod as you hand him a towel and a water bottle, “of course, you always dance so well Illuso, just make sure not to work yourself too hard, okay?”

Melone has the sweetest dulcet tones; he does a lot of solo covers on the group’s YouTube channel, when he can he makes sure to try and rope some of the other guys in it.

Whenever the group is on tour, he’s in charge of posting a e s t h e t i c travel pictures, he also personally edits all of the group’s vlogs. He’s also super active on Twitter. His diligence in interacting with fans online has helped to get La Squadra as popular as it is.

Melone is the most fashion forward of the group. He was the first of them all to get a clothing brand deal and it shows. His ootds always trend amongst the fans and whatever outfit or piece of clothing he wears always sells out.

The final member that you had scouted yourself was Ghiaccio. He used to work at a frozen yogurt shop and when he served you your order, you took one good look at him and thought, “oh, I need to get this guy in an idol group, stat.”

He trained for the longest in Passione Ent. and he was starting to get antsy about whether or not he was going to debut or not. Of them all, he also has the most professional experience as he used to be a backup dancer for some of the senior groups like Unita Speciale.

He’s a little awkward with fan interaction, not really knowing what to do when he has tons of people telling him they love him. The fans find this side of him very endearing.

#la squadra #la squadra x reader #idol au #vento aureo #golden wind

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chiefgiverstrawberry · 3 years ago

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I can’t sleep. Once again. Woke up at 3:30 thinking about this man who played kind games with me. I was so excited in fact so enthusiastic too enthusiastic in fact to have finally talked to him on the phone and I got a very short and salty feedback that he was tired from his trip and needed to rest and by the way his phone was almost dying and would call me the next day. That was the same guy that sent me those flowers and in the past month sent me literally sweet nothings that had actually made me believe there was something good between us. I told myself heck yeah warned myself to never EVER believe men like these. But he was a little off from the start when I first talked to him. However I let time show his true face and yet again my gut feel was right all this time. He wasn’t his true self and I don’t know exactly why he would say “I would do anything for you” and “I adore you”. Why say those sweetest words when you don’t really mean them? I don’t understand why some people like him can be really mean and play with other people’s feelings? I met so many like him in a span of two freaking years. One would lie about his pictures to me, making excuses about not having a strong enough WiFi to have a video call somewhere in Nigeria! He posted a hunk of a man as himself and I image search the man on the photos and googled his name and voila! I found him on Instagram as a gay man in San Francisco! That man I was talking to was a fake! That was in January 2020. February 2020 I met the biggest con man of all- a master manipulator whose identity I am still trying to figure out as he cannot be found on the internet. An Italian British claiming to have a business as a renovation contractor, this man borrowed money from for up to $25,000 in a span of more than a year during a horrible pandemic. He took advantage of my loneliness and went ahead to say something that he was deeply in love with me . Yeah right- he should be because I sent him those monies that should have been used for myself. I filed for bankruptcy due to my failed second marriage (that’s the second part of my autobiography later to be written for everyone to be forewarned). But despite this financial problem, I still was able to help this man financially as he promised to pay me back. I haven’t met him and of course there were so many warning signs about online scammers out there and he was one of them! I felt flat on my face once again. I subscribed to a dating app called Match. It was a waste of my time and money because of that pesky subscription. I practically met the worse men - I expected them to be mature and committed to looking for a serious long term relationship. However, all they wanted was sex and that was it! Maybe momentary entertainment. I did sleep with three out of how many men I online. And they just turned out to be just a blob an amoeba so to speak that just occupied my precious space and time but they did not matter because they just did not care, they just wanted to sleep with me and go to the next woman they meet. They’re like man-whores! And finally this man I am talking about at that beginning of this blog was I thought a little special. He wasn’t. Little red flags here and there and I should know better now not believe what I read and hear and see. I wish I could find that man who would genuinely adore me and keep me in his arms everyday who would never want to let go because he literally wants to be with me for the rest of his sweet life! Alas! I don’t know if I can find that man. Now I have to stop looking. I’m exhausted and more jaded than ever before! I booked a flight to LA just to get a away from Chicago. I need time to regroup, to refresh and to re-energize my wounded body. I should say my prayers that once I stop looking, may God give me an oasis with an almost perfect partner in the horizon. Thank you in advance. But if I don’t find anyone out there that it’s okay to be just me and my furry friend and stay happy and grounded! As always.

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thejosh1980 · 4 years ago

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“My Daughter”

I'm really tired.

Even though I sleep well most nights, I'm still tired. Sometimes the whole day.

I'm still trying to find my routine. For sure, at 08:00 each morning I'm driving Mum to school and picking her up again at 15:00...

Other than that, it's all about whatever I can do to keep myself occupied... Look for work, think about my career, visit a friend, take Alex for a drive, clean the pool, swim in the pool, check the surf or think.

Today's been a thinking day..... I miss my dog.

It's a very long story, one that I wouldn't want to bore you with the finer details of, but in the end, I was once a proud father, but now my 5 year old baby is with her mum in Dresden and I am here in Ocean Shores.

I miss her every single day.

Some days are worse than others. I can't go a day without thinking about her. She was my life. There's usually 2 questions that roll around in my head... “what is she doing/feeling now, without me?” and “what would we do together if she was here?”.

I well up thinking about these questions, and usually distract myself immediately so as not to cry.

My ex and I agreed early on we wouldn't post pictures of her or discuss/post about her online. We wanted something private just for ourselves. That decision was made back when I was touring a lot and we had plenty of fans around.

I don't know if that rule applies to me now, and while I do want to respect my ex's wishes (our wishes), I also feel that I should write something down, document my feelings and try to process this... Writing has helped me with a few things so far, why not with my grief?

I guess in the end, I have to get used to the idea that she's no longer my dog.

I mean, I never had any official paperwork with my name on it saying I owned the “property” that was our dog (how could I? It was all in German anyhow!!!). Officially, I have no say in where she lives and who she lives with.

In fact, I didn't want a dog at first. I've always been scared of them... Terribly afraid because when I was very young, our own dog (in Melbourne in 1984-85) scared the living shit out of me too many times... So I have always had reservations about dog ownership...

That was until the little brown ball of fur came into my life... I loved that little puppy like my life depended on it.

Although I may not be registered as her father, I love her like one.

I am her Daddy. I always will be.

I trained her, I took care of her, I loved her. And I was very proud to do so. She is amazing...

I trained her to skateboard, paddle board and hang with me in the studio (yes, I even have videos of her singing along with me). She could travel all over Europe with me, visit any number of famous locations and take it all in her stride. She's walked Venice, urban swam in Bern, had tourist photos at Checkpoint Charlie and been photographed by more Japanese tourists than I can care to remember...

I taught her how to give hugs on command. She'd pull me in and wrap her little paws around me, it was the sweetest hug anyone could ever get... I miss them...

She is a real beautiful talented little girl...

But maybe the most important thing was, what she did for me.

When “my daughter” came into my life, I had just stopped drinking (6 months earlier). I was still trying to find the new “me” in a world where all my friends and band members drank regularly around me. I was fine with everyone drinking.... However, if anyone who has stopped drinking (or doing drugs) knows, when that crutch is no longer in your life, when you have nothing to hid behind anymore, you learn more about yourself than ever before...

She gave me love, strength and courage to do things I was scared or worried to do... She gave me reason to live...

If this was an AA meeting, I'd say she was my sponsor.

I received unconditional love no matter how bad I felt in a social situation that made me uncomfortable. She looked up to me for guidance, and in doing so, guided me to feeling more comfortable in my uncomfortable skin.

I wasn't afraid to go places when she was with me. I wasn't worried about what people would think, or how I would feel or think... I was happy because she was by my side, and she surely was happy having me take her places and give her treats.

We were a great team...

Now that I no longer have that team, that partnership, that unconditional love, I hurt.

I worry if I can do anything without anxiety anymore. Can I step out of my comfort zone without her??

Well surely I have come along way in the past 5 years. Still ain't drinking, still learning all the time how to deal with my inner struggles. But without her, it feels harder... I struggle without her constant love and companionship.

I never thought in all my years, that a dog would be so important to me... She still is...

The last time I saw her was in late June. I decided to take control of how and when I let her go free. I arranged my dearest and trusted friend to meet with us, and I could pass “my daughter” over... And my friend could walk her to my ex's place.

The idea of passing her over directly, that would have been too much... I couldn't do it. It was hard enough just to pass her to my friend. It took a long time, a hell of a lot of tears (in public no less). The idea of giving this beautiful thing away hurt me to my core.

It still does.

She knew something was up. She was quiet and attentive. She could read me like a book... I tried to say “goodbye”, but the words could barely come out. I know I said “I love you” as often as my tears would allow.

When I made the decision to leave Europe, I knew I'd miss a lot of people and places. I knew I had to give up a lot of things... At that moment, that day in June, it all came to a head.

If, at the time, I was still on the fence about moving, I'd have stayed... I wouldn't have been able to let her go (I still haven’t)... But as all the plans had been made, and I knew my Mum was waiting for me, I had to do it. I had to keep moving forward... No matter how much it hurt...

My last image of my girl is her walking away with someone we both trusted. (she has the sweetest little butt). I ran after them down the street (crying like a fool), but she didn't look back.

She didn't know that was the last time she'd see me... How could she, she's a dog! She doesn't understand... But I do... And it hurts to think about how she feels without me in her life.

I have not had a photo or an update since... It's been 4 long months...

I wake up everyday wondering if my ex would see things my way and send her to me... Maybe she'd have a change of heart, or maybe her circumstances have changed... My ex knows I'm waiting...

Hope is the last to die...

Originally I wanted to write an update on how our new life down here was going, but I can't get “my daughter” out of my mind, so I figured I'd write about her... Maybe in a few days I can express more about our life here, but for now, my beautiful four legged girl is all I can or want to think about.

I cried while writing this, and I'll cry again if I have to proof read it again (so I’ll get Alex to do that!).

The sense of loss and sadness is overwhelming.

I just want to process this pain and replace it with love and happiness for our past... I really want to smile when I think about her, and laugh about her silly ways, but I’m not ready... I realised now, I still have more grieving to do...

I hope writing things down helps...

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#adogspurpose #my daughter #coparenting #missing someone #new life

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