#i need to use this nose mask for him again bc wow
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bnt0 · 2 years ago
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list 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore 💜💜💜
Thank you for asking 💕 I picked Kurt to pair with Bao :3
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kurt quincey, 22, he/him
adopted from turks and caicos as a baby
mixed. bio mother is a turks and caicos islander, bio father is a white american
wealthy. his adopted father is a bigshot industrial contractor in cali (lol i'm sure that's a thing)
licensed private pilot. he has been flying with his parents as a hobby since before he was even legally allowed
parties hard. he's messy sometimes ;-;
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sanguineterrain · 6 months ago
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i'm sure you have plenty of requests, but do you write part 2's/continuations of blurbs?? bc i'm FULLY invested in the bodyguard!jason au and i need to know what else transpires in their time together. does he read to the reader?? does reader take him clubbing with him subsequently losing them in the crowd?? is he their unofficial date to the countless galas and social gatherings they're invited to?? what is their sleeping arrangement? the people demand politely request answers!
the people shall get their answers!
bodyguard!jason todd x gn!reader. pt 2 to this. tw reader punches a rich asshole, pining, tension, etc. jason is a sweetheart as always! all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary
****
Galas suck.
You swish champagne in your glass and watch it fizz. Then you do it again. And again.
A man's loud laughter carries over the delicate string quartet. You glower in his direction for a second. Then you rest your head on the wall behind you.
"I'm bored to tears, Red," you say.
Hood is playing wallflower with you, except he actually has an excuse.
"To tears, huh?" he says. "Maybe you should try being social. I believe that's what these shindigs are for."
Your head lolls in his direction, brows rising. "That's pretty rich coming from you. You're the least social person I know."
"Well, I do shoot people for a living. Tends to put others off. Go figure."
You stop a passing waiter and pluck a vegetable croquette from tray, then pop it into your mouth. "You haven't shot anybody in months."
Hood sighs. "Yeah. Sad stuff."
"You could shoot somebody here."
"Not without good reason," he says.
"How 'bout for being an entitled, elitist prick?"
"I'm afraid I need a little more reason than that. For legal purposes. But I do love shooting entitled, elitist pricks."
"Fine. Give me the gun."
Hood hums. "I think I'm a bad influence on you, trouble."
"You're the best influence on me," you say. "Give me your gun. I can be trusted."
"That's a negative."
You finish the croquette and edge closer to him, your shoulders touching. You tap him on the shoulder. He leans in, ear near your mouth.
"Ye-es?" he asks, eyes flicking to you. Wow. You've never gotten used to Hood's laser focus on you.
"What if I said you're the wind in the trees and the music of the birds and all of my dreams come to life?" you ask, only exaggerating a little.
"I'd probably check for a concussion," says Hood. You can tell he's smiling behind his mask.
"What if I said you're too sexy for your shirt?"
"Hm. Can't disagree there. Still no gun, though."
"Bastard."
Hood bumps your shoulder and straightens. "Sorry, trouble. Looks like we'll have to soldier through without sending anyone to Emergency."
You suck your teeth. "Man. Will you dance with me, at least?"
Hood snorts.
"I'm not joking," you say. "I headcanon you to have secret waltz and tango skills."
"You headcanon me?"
"Yes. I write headcanons about you on my blog." You gulp down the rest of your champagne. "So, what do you say?"
"Dancing isn't in my job description, trouble. 'Sides, there's plenty virile, eligible bachelors here for you to rumba the night away with."
You wrinkle your nose. "Who describes people as virile? They're not lab mice."
"Sorry." Hood clears his throat, then cocks his hip. "They're hot and totally into you!" he says in a peppy voice. "Better?"
You shiver. "Don't do that again. Gave me the heebie jeebies."
"'Gives the heebie jeebies' is actually on my resume," Hood says. "Right after 'scares the shit out of people.'"
The music slows to a finish. The dancers clap. You groan, leaning against the wall.
"Maybe I can pull the fire alarm," you say.
"Excuse me!"
An old, small man in an expensive suit with white, thin hair struts over. You squint at him as he comes to a stop in front of you.
"Isn't your father that ambassador?" he asks, eyes roving over you. You know that gaze. It's the gaze that's deciding whether or not you're worth speaking to.
"Yes, he is," you say. "May I help you?"
He sniffs. "Terrible business, that. He very nearly cost that young woman her life at that banquet."
Hood brushes past you, stepping forward. "Sir, I need you to back up. Safety measures and all that."
Your jaw tightens. This is literally the last conversation you want to have, talking about your tightass, selfish father. You've done enough of that in therapy.
You hide a smile behind his back.
The man peers at Hood, mouth curling. "What business have you, bringing threatening men like him in here? This is a private event."
You step around Hood. "He's my bodyguard. He's not a threat."
"He certainly looks like one. He's dressed like a hoodlum."
"Hence the name," Hood says cheerfully.
The man sneers. "Those scars of yours are hideous, young man. I can't believe you accompany your charge in public looking like you do."
"What the hell did you say?" you ask, stepping to him. "Huh?"
"Trouble," Hood says quietly, touching your shoulder. "It's fine—"
"No, because what the fuck? Where the fuck do you get off?" you say, invading his personal space. How fucking dare he?
The asshole's bulldog eyebrows rise. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. Red's being perfectly professional. Won't even eat the hors d'oeuvres. And you're commenting on his body? Are you insane? Did all that corruption eat your brain?"
His face is now a nice shade of beetroot. Hood clears his throat behind you.
"C'mon, ease up," Hood says. "Don't do this f'me."
"Yes, listen to your mutt," the man says, sneering. "Seems he's got a modicum of sense, unlike you. It looks like all of his house training has a promising future."
Your fist connects with cartilage.
It's a blur after that. Someone pulls you away—Hood—and your now-sworn enemy screams bloody murder, red dripping down his suit. Your hand kind of hurts, and your head really hurts.
Hood herds you through a set of French doors, into a garden. Cool, night air fans your face.
"Well, 'm glad I didn't give you a gun," Hood says, walking you to a bench by the fountain in the center of the garden.
Sweet scents of lilac and rose waft through the air. You look away as Hood carefully inspects your hand.
"Hm. Just a little bruised. No injury."
"I tucked my thumb like you taught me," you say.
"I see. Think you broke his nose."
Is that pride you hear in his voice?
Hood sighs, releasing your hand. "But you shouldn't have done that."
You start to shake, anger shooting through you all over. You curl into yourself.
"I'm not apologizing to that shithead. He's a gutless, no-good, gutter snipe. Nothing under that hideous toupee but air."
Hood laughs. "Easy, Sundance. Y'know guys like him are full of hot air. Surprised you let him get to you. You don't care what those rich assholes say."
You turn around to look at Hood. "Someone had to take him down a peg. What he said was horrible."
"You've heard so much worse, trouble. You take it all with a grin and then get back at 'em later. 'S how you always do it."
"Yeah, well... well, I was sick of what he was saying. He can say all he wants about me, I don't give a shit. But when I'm in the room, no one talks about my bodyguard."
Hood is quiet for a long moment. There's only the sound of the babbling fountain and crickets. You rub your sore hand and stare at a rose bush.
"Y'don't need t'defend me," he says. "People have said far worse, and I definitely don't want you puttin' your reputation on the line for me, trouble."
"Fuck my reputation!" you say, scooting closer to him. "You're important to me, Red. Everyone should know not to say a damn thing about you when I'm around."
He shakes his head. "I'm just your bodyguard."
"No, you're my friend. Right?"
Hood looks up at you. "I—yeah, of course, but—"
"Well, friends defend each other."
"So some rich guy doesn't wanna look at my ugly mug," Hood says. "Big deal."
"You aren't ugly," you say, brow furrowing. "Don't say that."
"Trouble. Sweetness. Look at me. Tyra Banks would call me a lost cause."
"Don't be a dummy, Red. You're hot and mysterious, and you have pretty eyes. You're a fantasy protagonist's wet dream."
Hood leans in. Your heart picks up. Oh, you're nervous. You're getting nervous again. A tornado siren wails in your head. Danger! Danger!
"So you're sayin' I'm too sexy for my shirt?" he asks.
"So sexy it hurts," you say, voice slightly uneven.
"Mm." He looks you over. His lashes are so long. Damn. "Y'haven't even seen my whole face."
"I don't need to," you say instantly. "I'm an excellent judge of good looks."
He laughs. You smile.
"Think you can sneak us out?" you ask. "For my safety, of course."
"Mm, of course." Hood looks over the garden. "Yeah, I think I can manage that."
"I'll get us burgers," you say. "I'm starved."
"Taking me out, huh?"
It's a joke, but God, what if? What if you could go on a date with Hood, without masks or politics? What if you could see his smile? Feel his smile?
"If I did, I'd take you someplace nice," you say. "Not just a burger joint."
Hood is quiet as you go to the edge of the garden and he prepares to get you both over the balcony. He holds out a hand and puts his other on your waist so you can climb. Your faces are close. You smile, a little nervous.
"For the record," he says, not letting go until you're safely on the grass below. "I'd be content eating anywhere with you, trouble."
Hood easily vaults over the balcony, landing on his feet. He gestures with his arm.
"You lead," he says, eyes dancing.
God, you're in so much trouble.
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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago
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i totally lost the ask bc i forgot to put it in my drafts, BUT i remembered which prompts were requested.
this one was kind of a challenge, so i LOVED it.
MINORS DNI
kiss list #5: kissing as an interruption
smut #8: mirror sex
fluff #5: “you smell really nice”
CW: fucking in front of a mirror (duh.), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, hate sex?, it’s kinda enemies to lovers. *let me know if i missed anything*
it had been yet another new years celebration at rossi’s mansion. another new years where spencer’s pining over what seems to be so untouchable, unattainable. you.
for what spencer would recall as ages, but was actually 3 years, he has been in love with you. he’s in love with the occasional nose scrunches. he’s in love with the way you gently bite your lip when you’re in concentration. he’s in love with your voice, the gentle, soft sounds it produces. he’s so in love with you he can’t say a thing.
in fact, he’s never said a thing to you.
ever.
over time, you had developed a theory that spencer reid simply didn’t like you. at all. he would stare at you until you would look at him, making him break his eye contact. he would never even say a word to you unless it was a random statistic or for a case.
but that was just because spencer was nervous. how was he supposed to approach a girl like you? just walk up to you and say hi? no.
while he’s dressed in a suit and mask, thanks to rossi’s masquerade themed party, he notices a woman waltz in with a beautiful gown, her eyes and the top of her face covered my a matching mask. spencer knew all eyes were on this mysterious person, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to them.
still, he couldn’t approach her.
or could he?
he was wearing a mask. why wouldn’t he be able to?
she wouldn’t be able to recognize him.
and maybe he needed this girl to help him get over you - that train has clearly left long ago.
using all the courage he could muster up, he approached this woman with a feigned confidence.
once he had gotten closer to her, he had realized she must’ve been there for a while, the faint smell of alcohol wafting from her breath when she greets him.
“hi!” she says with a smile wider than he’d seen in a long time.
“he-hello,” he stutters already, suddenly wondering how he’d manage to maintain confidence long enough to even talk to you.
“my name is - shit,” she stumbled over her dress, effectively falling forward and latching onto spencer’s arms to secure herself.
“what a lovely name,” he chuckled as a blush grew on his cheeks.
“no! shit isn’t my name,” she giggled as she let her head rest on his chest. “wow, you smell really nice,” she says as she let herself be overwhelmed by his scent.
“oh… thank you,” he whispered. “you smell nice, too,” vanilla, he thought.
“you’re cute,” she pulled back enough to poke his cheekbone with a smile. “like a model.”
“you-i’m not very cute when standing next to you,” he tried to be smooth. “that wasn’t very good,” he laughed at himself. “i-what i meant was that you look… you’re very beautiful.”
“you can’t even see my face!” she argued, the smile remaining on her lips. “but thank you.”
“it’s no problem, truly,” he whispered softly.
“wait,” she suddenly seemed all-so-sober as the next couple of words left her mouth. “are you spencer?”
“wha-yes?” he nodded his head slowly.
“what the hell?!” she whisper-yelled before pulling him into the nearest room, which happened to be a bathroom. “what the fuck, reid?!”
“what? what did i do?!” he argued, not sure where anything went wrong as he took off his own mask.
until she took off her mask.
shit.
“y/n?” he mumbled, already knowing the answer.
“yes, y/n! fuck, reid!” she sighed exasperated.
“what’s the problem here?” he stepped back while she tried to compose herself.
“what’s the problem? what’s the problem?!” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “the problem is that you fucking hate me and decide to flirt with me at a party! what? you have to wait until i look presentable to want to even talk to me? i actually respected-no, i looked up to you before i came into the bau. i had read your manuscripts and theories and your inserts in newspapers. i was wanting to meet you once i finally realized my hard work had paid off, and i had made it into the bau. but no! the first day i met you, you wouldn’t even say fucking hello! it’s such an easy word! hel-lo! there! i just did it!” you chuckled once more, about to explode again. “god, i didn’t think adults could be as petty as you’ve been. you refuse to even talk to me unless it’s absolutely necessary. you only fucking stare at me until i look your way. why don’t y-“
and his lips were on yours.
in a moment of weakness, or maybe strength, spencer was able to face his fears of actually kissing the girl of his dreams.
and you let him.
at first, you were surprised. the shock was evident in the way she tensed up. spencer was about to pull away, accepting his defeat, before you finally kissed him back. your hands cupped his wrists that were firmly planted on your face as you inches your body closer to his own.
“i don’t hate you,” he breathed into your mouth as you both heaved for air that had been lost amongst the heat. “in fact,” he placed his leg between yours, noticing how a whine had left your lips, “it’s quite the opposite.”
“reid, please,” you tried to grind yourself down on his leg.
“ah-ah,” he chuckled. “if we’re doing this, you’re calling me by my first name.”
“spencer, come on,” you argued with the man, he finally obliged and rose his knee to meet your center. “fuck.”
“you like that? i can make you feel much more than just this,” he growled in your ear.
“please, anything,” you sighed, placing a kiss below his ear.
“come here,” he removed his leg, and in an instant it was replaced my his hand trailing up your leg, underneath your dress. “someone’s excited,” he announced once he felt how wet you were.
“shut up,” you sighed, gently biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.
“what was that, princess? did you tell me to shut up?” he teased, feeling you nod against his shoulder.
“‘m sorry,” you cried as his fingers entered your heat, quickly thrusting in and out. “oh my god, yes.”
“yea? maybe this’ll teach you to not tell me to shut up, huh, princess?” he chuckled against your ear as your body began relying on spencer to keep you upright.
“wha- oh my god, i’m so close,” your nails began digging into his clothes back as he drew you closer to your finish.
and right before you were over the precipice, he took his fingers out of your heat. a whine left your lips as your body chased his touch, bucking towards him for some type of relief.
“don’t tell me to shut up,” he warned once more.
“please. please,” you whined. “i’ll do anything, please, just…” you began kissing on his neck, gently sucking marks where your lips had been.
“what do you want, princess?” he asked, his hands trailing over your waist.
“you. please, i want you so bad,” you huffed. “please, inside me.”
“you want me inside you?” you nodded eagerly, pulling at his shirt before he pressed his lips back to yours.
he twisted the two of you so you were pressed against the counter, his front to your back.
“so, so bad,” you wiggled your ass so you could feel the bulge that had been forming in his pants.
“lucky for you,” he began unbuckling his belt, “i want this just as bad,” he let his hard cock rub along your folds before entering you.
“oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath, holding onto the counter for stability.
“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned in your ear before pulling almost all the way out, his tip only inside before slamming back into you.
“spen-spencer,” you gasped out as he set a ruthless pace of slamming into you.
“what is it, sweet girl? you need more?” he saw the pathetic excuse of a nod from your head and reached his hand forward to grasp your hair rather than rub your clit. “too fucking bad. if you’re cumming on my dick, you’re coming from that alone.”
when he yanked your hair back, a pornographic moan was ripped from your throat. you were able to look yourself in the eyes as the man who you thought hated you was fucking you into oblivion. you were more than grateful that the alcohol had worn off so you could remember this moment forever, although not as good as his own eidetic memory.
“you like watching me fuck you, princess?” he lent down in your ear to whisper. “you look so fucking good like this, don’t you think?”
“ye-yes,” you sighed before he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, allowing his hips to plow into you at a relentless pace as his other hand snakes between your legs to pull them further apart.
“there we go,” he chuckled at the deeper angle he was able to reach, places that were untouched inside of you. “you gonna come?”
“please, oh my god, please!” you broke eye contact with him in the mirror to take a breath before he yanked your hair back.
“then fucking do it,” he growled in your ear. “come all over my dick, baby.”
“oh my-fuck!!” he felt your pussy fluttering around his member as he fucked you through your orgasm, helping him near his own.
“shit, so fucking good,” he moaned in your ear. “where do you want it?”
“inside. inside, please inside of me,” you begged him once more.
“want me to fill you up?” he looked up to see you looking at him with pure lust… and maybe something more before he came inside of you.
as he fucked his cum back into you, the both of you could hear fireworks going off in the background.
“happy new year, spencer,” you chuckled before he pulled out and fixed your underwear.
“happy new year, y/n,” he smiled before gently grasping your face and pulling you in for yet another kiss.
here’s to a happy new year and many more with what you’ve come to find is the love of your life.
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago
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Eunoia - Harry Styles
a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!
pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)
word count: 9.5k
masterlist
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Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.
Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.
He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.
It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.
As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.
By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.
Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.
As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.
She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.
Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.
An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.
“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.
Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.
“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.
“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.
“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.
“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.
That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.
“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.
“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.
“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.
“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.
“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.
“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.
“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.
“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.
“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”
“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.
“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”
“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.
“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”
“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.
“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.
“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”
Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.
“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.
“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.
Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.
“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”
Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.
“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.
“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.
“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.
“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”
“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.
“That’s not needed at all.”
They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.
“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.
“Of course.”
“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”
“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.
“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”
“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”
“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.
“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”
“Oh, what’s that about?”
“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.
“Any particular reason why you chose it?”
“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”
Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.
Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.
“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.
“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.
“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”
She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.
“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.
He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.
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When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.
“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”
“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.
“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”
Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.
Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.
Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.
As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.
A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.
“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.
“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.
“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”
“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.
“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.
“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.
“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”
Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.
“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.
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Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.
It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.
“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.
“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.
“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”
“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”
“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.
“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”
“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.
“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.
“The Aztecs?”
“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.
“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.
“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”
“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”
“I do not,” he shakes his head.
“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”
“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.
“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.
“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.
“Like what?”
“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”
“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”
“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.
“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”
“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”
Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.
“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.
“I don’t.”
“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”
“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.
“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.
They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.
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Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.
His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.
Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.
“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.
“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.
“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”
She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.
“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.
“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”
“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.
“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.
Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.
He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.
As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.
“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.
“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”
“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.
“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.
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“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.
Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.
“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!
She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.
“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.
“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.
“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.
“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.
“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.
“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.
“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”
“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”
“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.
Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.
“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.
“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.
“I just… love how you said when and not if.”
“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”
“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”
“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”
“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.
“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.
“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.
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Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.
This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.
Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.
He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.
Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.
The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.
Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.
“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.
“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.
“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”
The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.
“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.
“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.
“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”
“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”
“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”
Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.
“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.
“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”
“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”
“You said you have some tests to go through.”
“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”
“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.
“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.
“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.
“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.
“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.
“Yes, Lilian?”
“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.
“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”
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The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.
“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.
“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.
Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.
“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.
“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.
Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.
“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.
“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”
“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.
“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.
“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.
“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.
They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.
When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.
He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.
As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.
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“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.
“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.
The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.
Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.
“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.
“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.
“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”
“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.
“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”
“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”
“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.
“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”
“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.
“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.
“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”
“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”
“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.
“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.
“You like it?”
“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.
“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.
“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”
“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”
“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.
“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.
“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.
“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.
“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.
“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.
“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.
“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?
“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.
“I just asked,” he mutters.
“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.
So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.
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“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.
“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.
-
Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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ushiwakaout · 4 years ago
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Things I believe Bokuto Koutaru (timeskip: pro MSBY volleyball athlete ) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).
university art teacher! reader
warning: mild swearing? bad spelling :)
request are open: here
“MMm five more minutes.” (5:40 am)
“But baby~*whine* I’m tired”
“Stop trying to uncuddle me please.”
“Nooooooooo~ get back here.”
“Baby *pout* now I’m cold”
“Baby if you don’t come back here and cuddle me, I will die.”
“I will die on our bed, right here, right now.”
“Is that what you want? Alright. Fine!”
“Ugh- Y/n... I don’t feel so good... I think I actually might be dying. Gran, gran? Is that you? I’m coming gran gran!”
*fake dies w/ tongue out*
“Wow okay, so you wouldn’t cuddle me even if it meant you’d save me, alright, I see how it is.”
“Nope, no. I don’t want your kisses anymore, shoo~ go shower stinky.”
“Baby wait, come back, you didn’t give a good morning kiss.”
“Mmm, you’re kisses are the best... Now shoo~ you’re presence is bother me.”
“DON’T USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER, I’M ALWAYS FREEZING!”
“You know what- Stop screaming in the shower, it’s too early.”
“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen you nakey before.”
“Move you’re sweet ass over.”
“You’re s’tiny”
*Small fem section so if you don’t identify, you can ignore*
“You’re boobies looks so small compared to my hands.”
“Wait, look, look *begins to coddle your chest* see, they look so cute.”
“Ow! What are you hitting me for.”
“Let me just.... hold them.”
*End-Continue*
“How about I wash your hair and then you can wash mine, yeah?”
“What do you mean you’ll be late for work.”
“Five more minutes.”
“No, no, no. Not those jeans, those are the ones that make your ass look good.” (6:00 am)
“Now I won’t be able to pinch you’re cheeks all day.”
“Wear the other top, it matches with your skin tone.”
“Here while you where getting pretty I made you a [favorite flavor] protein shake.”
“I’ll walk with you to the station.”
“Give me your hand, I wanna hold your hand.”
“So small”
“What do you mean I have big hands, you’re just small.”
“Wait for me at the school, I have practice today so I can walk with you.”
“It’s no big deal, the gym is like 10 minutes away, just wait for me okay?”
“But I’ll let you know if I run late, most likely- I will run late.”
“Mmm give me a kiss before you go.”
“Another one.”
“Just one more.”
“If I kiss you some more you’ll miss your train.”
“Have a good day at work baby, just one more kiss.”
*you can’t tell me this mother fucker wouldn’t slap your ass the way he slaps a volleyball right before he leaves and just whistles as if HE DID NOTHING WRONG*
“Honey! I’ve brought lunch!” (1:00 pm)
“Oh- you’re with a student... I’ll be quiet now.”
“Finished? Good. I brought you a bento box made with love.”
“Well yeah bought with love, same thing.”
“Did you miss me, of course you did, right?”
“You only get your bento if you kiss me.”
“Mmm one more and i’ll think about it.”
*this man will full on start a makeout session with you but youre stomatch starts to growl and he just laughs at you*
“I also bought you [favorite drink], i’m the best boyfriend huh.”
“How’s work been? Good? That’s great baby.”
“Any new art pieces you’re working on.”
*you cannot tell me that this man would not some how get paint all over his hand and slap your ass after you walked by him while you show him the small exhibition of art you have*
“sorry, your ass just looked good.”
*he’s not sorry*
*you’d be showing him art and this man would touch you everywhere*
“Do have time for a quicky?”
“What do you mean not here? It’s not like we haven’t before”
“But baby~ you just look so good.”
“I can’t keep my hand off you.”
“Give me one more kiss before I leave.”
*one kiss my fucking ass. THIS MAN WILL PICK YOU UP, SIT YOUR ASS ON YOUR DESK AND KISS YOU SO HUNGRILY. It’s those types of makeout sessions where when you part a string of spit just connect the two of you*
*he will also grind on you, trying to get some sort of friction going on- but then the bell rings. You’re very quick to push him off.”
“I’ll see you later baby.” *softest forehead and nose kiss he’ll ever give you... he’s flustered you enough.*
*will not stop thinking about your little makeout session in the art room while he’s at practice and end up just abuse the shit out of a poor volleyball*
“Baby i’m back~” (6:40 pm)
*he had texted you that he would be late to picking you up but luckly you brought your headphones and started to work on a secret art piece of bokuto*
“Baby~”
“Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you- ARE YOU PAINTING NAUGHTY PICTURES OF ME?!”
“Do you need more reference? Yeah?”
“Does that mean we can have sex tonight?”
“OW! I’m kidding... Well, no I’m not.”
“Stop being so shy, let’s go get food.”
“I’m hungry again.”
*you arrive to the restaurant and he leaves you outside for like 5 minutes just to make sure they have the table you guys like sitting at and he comes back to a guy trying to hit on you*
“Hey, hey, hey man, back off- They aren’t interested.” (7:00 pm)
“You okay?”
“Baby I know you’re a tough cookie, i just wanna know if you’re okay?”
“Let’s go inside, our favorite table is open.”
“What do you mean I eat too much meat, that’s mean y/n”
“Here, try this, its nice and juicy.”
“Don’t be a pervert and open wide.”
*Bokuto is very serious about his meat*
“I want dessert now, lets go to the market that has those cakes you like.”
“Baby! Baby! We need to go now! I just stole this cake from a kids hand!”
“I DID IT FOR YOU! DON’T YELL AT ME!”
“They’re gonna know I avoided my taxes that one year! I’m gonna go to jail!”
“I won’t be able to play volleyball!
“Or eat meat!”
“Oh right, I wouldn’t be able to kiss you either.”
“No~ come here and give me a kiss. I committed a crime for you.”
“Let’s go home, I wanna eat this cake.”
“Home sweet home, time to eat cake :)” (8:10 pm)
“Sit on my lap and eat this cake with me.”
“You fell so good on my lap.”
“My lap is your throne now.”
“No take backsies.”
“Oh hold on, I think Akaashi is calling me.”
“No, no, no, where do you think you’re going.”
*this man will make you coddle him like a koala so he can get up and get his phone just to sit back down with you on his lap*
*this is when Bokuto is most quiet is when he’s listening to Akaashi complain about something because he knows he need’s to let it out somehow.*
*He will start grazing his fingertips against your skin, kiss your fingertips, kiss your shoulder, neck, cheek. If you nuzzle into his neck he’ll start playing with your hair or the back of your neck.*
“Baby did you fall asleep?” (9:10 pm)
“I didn’t mean to wake you, you can go back to sleep now.”
*he will take off your jeans and put you in one os his shirts before tucking you in. will leave your socks on bc you have cold feet*
*he will also shower because believe it or not, this man does not smell when he sweats, you’d think he’d smell like ham or something but no... he legit has no smell- it’s weirder that way*
*when he come out of the shower he ends up waking you up again*
“Baby, can you cuddle me tonight.”
“You’re so warm baby.”
“I’m so lucky to have you.”
“Sleep well baby.”
extras:
“I do not fart in my sleep! Stop lying!”
“Why am I so beefy? Because I eat beef.”
“Atsumu get away from my baby. Sakusa! Attack!”
“The boys are coming over?! WHY DIDN”T YOU TELL ME?! Did i leave my undies in the shower?!”
“Big boobs? Chile anyways.”
“PUT YA MASK ON! PUT YA- Oop I don’t even have mine on right... anywho.”
“Look I took a video of y/n while they where sleeping, they started drooling.”
“Yes it was gross but i couldn’t move, look how cute she looks.”
“LOOK BABY! I painted an owl! Good ain’t it!”
“What do you mean I can’t have meat?! That should be illegal.”
“sawarasenai kimi wa shojo na no. boku wa yarichin bicchi no osu dayo- OH! You’re home! You didn’t hear that did you?!
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meganshinsou-tm · 5 years ago
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the best alpha’s. (f)
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☙ pairing: bakugou x reader x kirishima
☙ theme: a/b/o, domestic dads
☙  cw/tw: profanity, a/b/o characteristics, scenting, slight self-doubt, baku needs a hug, cute alpha dads with their pup.
☙  a/n-request:  Baku and Kiri (separately but also maybe poly??? is 3 different scenarios too much?) being absolute fuckin badass units on the job kickin ass and sassin reporters (lookin at u Explodo 👀) but the SECOND they walk thru the door and see their lil omega and pup they melt into Soft Dad Mode ™ and just wanna scent their precious beans bc they love them so much and there is just a lot of “wow I’m happy to come home to you” 🥺🥺🥺
** so I just did them in a poly ship, hope you like it. ^-^
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“Where the fuck is she?”
The moment you hear that gruff voice and smell not one but two annoyed alpha’s you freeze for only a second before smiling and poking your head out of the kitchen. Down the short hallway, Bakugou and Kirishima are both seen removing their shoes and duffels, using each other to lean against in the process. 
Kirishima is the first to pick up your happy and excited scent, his nose sniffing the air and face turning in your direction with one of those famous sharp toothed grins. He rumbles loudly and shoves Bakugou off so he can take massive strides in your direction. Soon there are large calloused hands cupping your face and you’re nuzzling each other’s cheeks. The scent of mountain rapids fills your nose and has you purring loudly along with Kirishima’s steady rumbling in his chest, sharp teeth softly nip at your cheek and cause you to chirp happily.
“Man I missed you.”
You chuckle and pet Kirishima's chest. “You saw me this morning.”
“It’s been a long day,” he breathes out after taking in a giant lungful of your honeysuckle scent.
Pulling away, you let the alpha hug you close while eyeing the other who was quickly approaching. You reach out a hand when Bakugou gets closer and his scent of flint and a sweet campfire mixes with Kirishima’s. Bakugou doesn’t waste a moment in pressing his cheek to the inside of your palm, his hand coming up to hold it there while he takes in numerous breaths of your scent in order to calm himself. 
“I saw.” 
Kirishima chuckles and pets the top of Bakugou’s head teasingly, earning a growl but no movement from the blonde alpha. 
“That reporter was asking stupid questions.”
You laughed and moved to hug Bakugou next when Kirishima finally released you, now nuzzling him instead. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, his inner alpha clawing inside of his head to get any sort of comfort from you. 
Like Kirishima said, it had been a long day. They went hard nonstop against multiple villains and at the end of it, reporters caught up to the alpha duo to pester them with pointless questions about their day. Most of the time Kirishima handled the on the spot interviews but today Bakugou was just at his limit. Maybe it was because he was hungry and tired, and maybe because his rut was going to start within the next two weeks and it was making him more antsy than usual.
So before Kirishima could calmly engage with the reporter, Bakugou snapped and may or may not have gone on a tirade about how fed up he was with reporters being stuck up his ass and many other profanities. All while Kirishima struggled to literally hold the blonde back from destroying the mics and cameras with his teeth. 
“He has to make a public apology in a few days, after some mandatory off time.” 
Kirishima spoke, trying to hide his grin while patting Bakugou’s back and kissing his cheek and yours. He decided to give you a couple more minutes and wandered into the kitchen to make himself and Bakugou some drinks. 
You shifted slightly and Bakugou whimpered, arms tightening around you. His scent suddenly turned distressed and you crooned against his cheek. 
“It’s okay alpha, I’m not going anywhere.”
Bakugou relaxed at that and buried his face into your neck, seeking out more of your calming pheromones as you tousled his hair and rubbed his back.
“I just … fuck, I thought I had gotten better and I then I fucked it up.”
“Katsuki, look at me,” you demanded in the softest way that only you could do.
Bakugou sighed and pulled away from the crook of your neck to look down at you with red eyes full of shame. If he had ears, you were sure they would be flat against his head. With a smile, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and leaned forward to kiss his lips. 
“You had one bad day, it’s not the end of the world. Your job is one of the most gruelling and stressful ones out there - you’re entitled to a blow-up here and there, shit happens. Maybe you could’ve handled this one differently but then again, maybe not. You can only take so much and I think a few days off will do you some good.”
Bakugou grumbled.
“You’re not a bad person for one bad day Katsuki. You’re a good alpha - the best alpha.”
The sound of Kirishima clearing his throat from the kitchen rang throughout the air, making you and Bakugou snicker. 
“You’re one out of two of the best alpha’s.”
Instantly loud purring could be heard from the redhead and you smiled before kissing Bakugou again. He rumbled and chirped while scenting you and being scented just a few seconds longer. 
“I’m the best alpha,” he breathed out against your scent gland, loud enough for only you to hear.
You smiled and nodded, nipping at his cheek then pulling away.
“I know someone who will be very happy that you’ll be home for the next few days.”
At that Bakugou perked up and his happy scent grew tenfold. A genuine smile stretched on his face and he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours, earning a giggle. Suddenly though, the sound of Kirishima bolting from the kitchen caught yours and Bakugou’s attention and soon enough Bakugou was growling with narrowed eyes. He quickly pecked your cheek before taking off after Kirishima towards the living room.
“No way Shitty Hair, me first!”
You rolled your eyes and started to walk after them. 
“It’s been seven months now you overgrown pups - fucking share!”
Kirishima barked out a laugh while Bakugou cackled, the two of them dropping to the plush rug on the living room floor the second their red eyes landed on their pup. Thankfully she was waking up from her nap, surrounded safely by soft barriers of a mini nest you made for her. The moment her own red eyes landed on the two alpha’s kneeling before her she squealed and made grabby hands in their direction while spouting out gibberish. 
Bakugou snarled when Kirishima went to scoop her up. The redhead sighed and sat back, letting Bakugou take her first with a pout.
“You’re not fair babe, you’re gonna get three whole days with her!”
“Shut up, I deserve it.”
You giggled and stood behind Kirishima, bending over him and giving him an upside down kiss in order to distract him from Bakugou, basically gloating.  He hummed and lifted a hand to pinch your cheek, kissing back. When you pulled away, you let the alpha’s be, going back to the kitchen after giving Bakugou and your pup a kiss.
Bakugou held the small pup close, scenting her chubby cheeks and tiny hands that grabbed at his face. She smelled like you, too young to have presented yet and have a scent of her own. But it wouldn’t be long before your scent was gone and completely masked with his and Kirishima’s. After getting his small fill, she was handed over to her other papa.
They redheaded alpha smiled and cooed, always the more talkative one with your pup.
“Hi there princess. Did you have a good nap?” He chimed, kissing the inside of tiny little hands.
She responded with a smile that flashed her singular sharp tooth that had started to grow so far and a giggle. Kirishima scented her as well, lifting her high in order to blow against her pudgy tummy and sides, earning more squeals and heart stopping giggles. 
Bakugou sat back and watched happily, already feeling more and more relaxed and content. His stresses from the day were quickly fading away the more he and Kirishima played with and scented the blonde little pup. All three of them rolled around on the floor, crawling and playing peek-a-boo. Then came the alpha’s favorite game which was Bakugou holding his pup by the hands to stand on excited bouncy legs, maneuvering her like a doll to beat up Kirishima. Bakugou would laugh and snort while making her kick and punch at his alpha mate, lifting her up to swan dive onto Kirishima’s rumbling chest. All while Kirishima played his part of the villain, pleading and faking hurt very dramatically.
You’d watch on from the kitchen, continuing dinner with a smile and purring happily. Once you got to a point where the food could be unattended, you set the timer for thirty-minutes and made your way into the now quiet living room. In the floor laid both alphas, snuggled up close on either side of your pup with their hands resting on her tummy and chubby thigh. All three of them were peacefully napping.
Soft rumbles came from Bakugou and Kirishima in their sleep while a tiny purr could be heard from your pup. You smiled and lowered onto the floor, moving to lay where Bakugou and Kirishima’s heads were, curling around them and alternating between petting their heads.
They really were the best alpha’s.
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heyitsyn · 4 years ago
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Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 1
a/n: this is a mini-series that are based off of your asks and once i,,,,, finish,,,, my seijoh phase, i will also do this for the other schools but pls take these offerings in the meantime as i work on the next part of my manager!seijoh and the time traveler au 
for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!
anon request: 
Wow, your series of Seijoh managers is so cute.🥺👉👈 After starting to read, I can only think about Oikawa and y / n on a Saturday night seeing mean girls, painting nails, taking care of the skin and the another day Oiks rubbing the face of everyone who spends much more time with his dear businessman LMAOO Anyway, congratulations on your work 💕💕 seriously, I LOVE this series omg-
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I MIGHT BE AN IWA AND KYO STAN BUT OIKS IS DEFINITELY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND PRETTIEST DUMPSTER IVE EVER SEEN
yep lets start the pilot
so basically, oikawa was being oikawa again
what might i mean, you ask
well, he was starting to work much harder than before since this was his last ever inter-high and his last ever chance on beating ushiwaka 
even though they finally have the team assembled avengers assemble! with kyo back on the team, he still felt lacking and wanted to use every single free time to work on becoming better
yall fun fact about me, oikawa is actually my favorite character bc of how hard he works and the pain i have in that once scene during the karasuno match when he slammed into the tables and was struggling to get up bc of his knee----NO IM SOBBING AGAIN
iwa noticed him doing this again so he sent you out to drag him out and distract him from this 
‘cmon oikawa-san-’
‘NO, Y/N-CHAN! I HAVE TO-’
‘no, the only thing you have to do is spend time with me bc i miss you and i want to have that movie you kept talking about’
bahahaha he is so whipped that a single ‘i miss you’ from you will literally make him break his back and bend for you
it was successful and you were in your room, your parents understanding oikawa and his antics since youve complained about it before, and he was sitting on your floor while looking through movies
‘y/n-chan, do you have no alien movies in here? or barbie?’
IN MY CONTENT, IT IS CANON THAT OIKAWA LOVES THE BARBIE MOVIES FITE ME
you laughed from your spot on your bed and shook your head
‘no, oikawa-san. natsu took all my barbie movies and i get scared of alien movies’
he pouted but continued to look until his eyes literally lit up
it was like god took a picture of him and you saw the flash
‘MEAN GIRLS! Y/N-CHAN I DIDNT KNOW YOU LIKED THIS TYPE OF MOVIE!’
he shrieked but you shrugged
‘meh. katsuki, natsu’s boyfriend, gave it to natsu as a joke but he gave it to me instead bc he cannot stand regina george’
you reasoned while picking out nail polish colors and looking through the ingredients of your face masks
‘WE’RE WATCHING THIS! PERIODT!’
omg hes so loud but i am too so we compatible
ugh i hate my logic
then later,
as the movie played, you were arguing with oikawa as he refused to wear the unicorn and wanted the panda one, which was your favorite
‘OIKAWA-SAN, I LIKE THIS ONE!’
‘Y/N-CHAN I LIKE IT MORE!’
you sucked in a sharp breath before relenting bc you wanted oikawa to be relaxed per request of your beloved senpai
‘fine. but i get to paint your nails’
he nodded eagerly and you handed him the packet, to which he simply stared at it
‘y/n-chan, can you,,,, put it on me?’
he sheepishly asked and you gave him a confused and bewildered look
‘oikawa-san, have you never put these on yourself?’
he shook his head, cheeks flushing and eyes focusing on the blue blanket
‘my sister always put it on for me. or iwa-chan’
‘IWA-?! wHAT-?!’
but you nodded anyways and he made you sit on his lap to put it on
‘um, oikawa-san, this position-’
he smiled at you, a gentle and real smile, not the ones for his fangirls
‘nuh uh, its fine, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you so he likes you right here’
he mumbled, blushing and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer making you giggle and nod
‘okay. close your eyes then, oikawa-san’
he excitedly nodded, expecting a kiss from you but you flicked his forehead making his eyes fly open and wince at the pain
‘so perverted, oikawa-san. pervert-oikawa-san’
you scolded and he pouted
he said something but you didnt listen, instead placing the mask on his face and smoothing it out
his fringe was about to touch the wet material so you hastily grabbed a clip and held his hair up
he looked so cute that you couldnt help but reach over and snap a picture of him
‘ara ara gomen did y/n-chan just take a picture of oikawa-san?’
he teased but you shook your head
‘no. what are you talking about?’
he did the same thing to you and now you were both painting each other’s nails, ofc staying loyal to your school mint green and baby blue on the ring fingernail
lmao dont blast me for not being exact w the school colors but it looks mint green to me
he finished yours first and omg?? hes so??? good?? like what???
you were holding his large hands with your small fingers and his heart started thumping really fast at the simple touch 
‘thank you,,,,, y/n-chan’
you looked up to him with large eyes, still unfamiliar with the softness of his voice
it was such a contrast compared to his usually loud and obnoxious, mocking tone
‘oikawa-san is not a really good captain since he burdens and bothers everyone but you always fix it all and keep everyone together. so, sorry for everything’
he mumbled and the eye holes from the mask let you see his sad eyes, genuinely sad about himself
you made the last paint stroke and capped the nail polish before leaning forwards, hands on his thigh so you could be closer
oikawa ofc freaked out because wow youre so much prettier up close and he doesnt?? deserve you??
your eyes blazed with anger and he stuttered your name but you cut him off
‘OIKAWA-SAN IS NOT USELESS. HE IS A REALLY GOOD CAPTAIN WHO LED HIS TEAM TO BATTLE THE ULTIMATE RIVAL AND EVEN THOUGH THEY LOST, THEY STILL WON IN MY EYES. YOU GOT KENTA-KUN TO COME BACK EVEN THOUGH HE DIDNT WANT TO BUT HE DID BC HE KNOWS HOW GOOD YOU ARE. HE WANTS TO PLAY ALONGSIDE A PLAYER WHO DESERVES TO BE ON THE COURT AND EVERYONE ELSE THINKS THE SAME THING. ME, Y/N, IS JUST A MANAGER WHO MIGHT NOT KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT VOLLEYBALL OR THE TECHNIQUES AND ALL THAT BUT I RECOGNIZE YOUR TALENT AND YOU WILL MAKE IT BIG SOMEDAY, OIKAWA-SAN! I PROMISE! AND WHEN YOU DO, I WILL SUPPORT YOU AND COME TO YOUR GAMES BC YOU ARE MY CAPTAIN AND I DONT REGRET EVER MEETING YOU. SO DONT APOLOGIZE AND SAY SORRY TO ME, INSTEAD TELL ME YOU ARE HAPPY TO BE IN THIS TEAM AND SAY YOU LOVE THE TEAM AND YOU LOVE VOLLEYBALL AND YOU LOVE-’
but he cut you off, placing a chaste kiss on your exposed nose
yall really thought it was the,,,, speaking function part of your face
nahnahnah that is only for the doggie
oop what
 you stopped, flustered at the sudden action but oikawa smiled
‘i love you, y/n. i really love you so give me a chance, okay? i will wait, no matter how long it takes but,,,, let me catch up and for now, think about me, okay?’
BRUH HOW IS THAT RELEVANT TO HER LONG RANT LIKE WHAT---
you tilted your head to the side, confused
she is deadass naive like bls protect her
‘a chance for what? you want to catch up for what? youre already good, oikawa-san’
then he laughed
so much more different than the ones he let out in public
it was so,,,, beautiful
you found yourself grinning with him and he calmed down, brushing away the stray hairs that is in danger of getting stuck on your mask
‘come on, y/n-chan. lets go take this off’
he stood up and offered his hand which you took
after the moisturizing and final touch-ups for your skin, you finally settled on the blanket fort and dozed off, the movie still playing but you were too comfortable in oikawa’s arms that you didnt even notice the credits rolling
the next day, you didnt feel the need to mention it at all
but oikawa did and it was still truly an accident
iwa heard about him staying late again and you having to drag him out of there and he was hitting him and kicking him again
you were so used to this that you were just writing down your notes at the corner, oblivious to oikawa’s crying
finally, he had enough of it
‘SEE THIS IS WHY Y/N-CHAN DOESNT LET YOU SPEND THE NIGHT WITH HER! BECAUSE YOU ARE SO MEAN!’
um, sire what did you just say
that was completely taken out of context and everyone, omg, especially iwa and kyo just froze
‘what,,, did you just say?’
iwa asked in a dangerously low voice and you shrugged
‘you told me to distract him, iwa-san, so i did. he was happy and satisfied and thats all that matters, right?’
you shot them a smile and oiks had such a smug smile when iwa looked at him and he was about to hit him when kyo just came out of nowhere and YEETED the smile off of his face
oikawa screamed
just a wittle blurb about this bc i totally love this :( and he totally needs more love and some of my readers love oikawa and want oikawa manager content so here it is!!! feast on these crumbs!!!!
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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago
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So I decided to live blog some thoughts on We’re Not Going Home as I watch. And here... we... go...
- I love Bones
- Tyler loves the camera
- Pavelski is a daddddyyyyy
- I need captions
- “SECURITYYY”
- They’re allowed to swear in these? The Pens swears get bleeped out in In The Room. This is so much more fun
- I would run through a brick wall for Jamie Randolph Benn
- I took Big Rig for granted when he was in Pittsburgh. Forgive me father, for I have sinned.
- They are swearing a LOT. And it’s mostly the coaching staff
- The Calgary series was so fun to watch
- Matthew Tkachuk is a little fucking shithead (also ily Matty)
- Was Tyler’s hip injured before or after he kicked that football? Either way I’m mad at him
- Jamie. Come on. What are those grey shorts. I already saw them and am still appalled
- Dicky is hot
- “Fuck fucking fuck fuck fucking fuck” - Bones
- Dicky is S U P E R hot
- Leg tat. Jamie. Phew
- Corey Perry is a rat
- I love you, Nate Mackinnon
- Oh they’re using the 2017 Pittsburgh Penguins as inspiration? Not a big deal
- (I remember when we were good)
- Jamie put your mask on
- Not over your eyes
- DICKY you’re beautiful
- Jamie with the puppy dog eyes ugh
- Wow I forgot how wild Game 7 vs. Colorado really was
- Jamie with no shirt on mmmmmmm
- Jamie and Bones are obviously homies and I love it
- Yes I cried over the family video again
- TYLER PAUL that cardigan outfit, goddamn
- Why did Rads shove his nose into his visor when putting on his helmet???¿¿¿
- Mmmm Jamie in Captain mode yes please
- Hahaha Klinger and those teeth
- Golf Ty. Yes
- Big Rig with the backwards hat. Wwidpxoclkdmrkesospslskxokrnmwqlal
- JORDAN SPIETH
- DAK PRESCOTT
- TONY ROMO
- I love sports
- I miss hockey
- Fuck
- RICKIE FOWLER
- TROY AIKMAN
- DIRK NOWITZKI
- Athletes are the best
- Fuck you Vegas
- Except you, Flower
- Come back to Pittsburgh
- Lololol Jamie’s dance in his stall
- I love Rads for trying to keep his shit together and not get too excited
- Jamie did you use progressively more gel throughout the playoffs
- You can tell me the truth
- Fuck I wish they would’ve won for Pavs and Per
- Ugh
- Klinger: “you fucking loser, who the fuck are you”
- Rads after they won the WCF 🥺
- KLINGER after they won the WCF!!!
- Tyler’s arms when he’s hugging Bones hot daaaaamn
- These golfing idiots
- Pavs with the eagle? Damn baby
- Jamie and Tyler smashing each other on their VR helmets like little children
- “Have you seen the Matrix? Don’t mess with virtual reality” - Big Rig (Big Baby)
- Tyler talking about camera pressure and then dropping for push ups the next time he’s up to bowl as if he does not THRIVE in the spotlight
- Fuck the Tampa Bay Lightning
- All my homies hate the Tampa Bay Lightning
- Dobby on the cart oh my god I’m DYING
- Pavs’ ASSSSSSSSS holy god
- They look so visibly tired
- Oh okay that shot of Ty on the bench. I’m dead, goodbye
- Joel 🥺 you’re so pure
- Bish looks like a mess but I love him
- Uh oh the music changed
- Here we go
- Still amazed by Stammer’s goal, won’t even lie
- All I need is Jamie and Tyler in golf shirts
- And I guess also for them to win a Cup
- Ugh watching Segs smash his stick still makes me ill
- Daddy Pavs
- Scorey Perry, you motherfucker
- Ugh
- Why did I watch this again
- Nope
- Bones crying?
- Nope
- Tyler crying?
- Nope
- Jamie’s presser. Nope. I wanna save him
- Also I can see Jamie’s KT heart tattoo from this angle and I am SO NOT OKAY
- NOT THE LOCKER ROOM SHOT
- I love them
- OH NO
- I’m crying at this ending. They’re so cute
- They’re so weird
- But so cute
- WOW
- What a ride
Tagging @kerwritesthings with gratitude bc she warned me about everything I needed to know before watching, without spoiling anything ❤️ you the real MVP
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bigmeatymudcrabchitins · 4 years ago
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A not-so-brief overview of my Skyrim Dova OCs bc i need to scream to the digital void about my ideas
Freyora Lind, more commonly known by her strange alias “Bjorne Icepick”
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A Nord-eventually-turned-werewolf who orphaned during the Great War and taken in by a Dunmeri mercenary whose residence was in Windhelm’s Gray Quarter. Grew up in a cramped boarding house setting among desperate mercenaries of varying backgrounds. Many of them would all come and go, but there was always some sort of a familial bond between them all.
From a young age she got in a lot of fights against people who insulted her for living in the Gray Quarter among the dark elves. Eventually she took a fight too far and was jailed for murder around 14, but was broken out shortly after by a band of masked vampires. Turns out some of her mercenary comrades unwittingly caught vampirism during a contract to clear out a vampire den and had to skip town, but not before ensuring one of their own wasn’t left to rot.
Lived in Cyrodil for about 15 years, but returned to Skyrim pursuing rumors surrounding a cure to vampirism, as her adoptive father would be nearing the end of his elven lifespan and had wished to die a normal death.
Seeing as she was literally a fugitive, and her long-belated parents were somewhat renowned for their battlefield prowess, she took on a false identity. AND an act to match it.
She’ll eat raw meat, chase prey with swords instead of using a bow like a normal person, harp about irrational conspiracy theories, and more. Everyone’s foul reactions to her outlandish act are plainly hilarious to her and only encourage her to act even stranger.
The alias “Bjorne Icepick” was simply the most ridiculous name she could think of.
Not the most morally outstanding. Besides drunken brawling, she’ll steal from anyone who angers her, even if it’s things she literally won’t ever need such as all the goblets in a household. It’s the pettiness that counts. “Try drinking your damn high-end wine now, jackass.”
Calls Dwarven Automatons “Gundams.” Including she herself, no one knows what that means.
Joins the Companions out of homesickness and a desire to fill in a gap that leaving home left.
Hasn’t bothered curing herself of lycanthropy because her whole schtick is being incredibly resourceful, and that includes using any means of power necessary. Still doesn’t fancy Hircine’s Hunting Grounds as her desired afterlife, though.
As her journey goes on, however, her lightheartedly eccentric face starts to fall off as a number of events push her to begin to question the legitimacy of her actions up until that point.
Some of which include the eventual death of her adoptive father (and how she was indirectly responsible for it even if it was what he wanted), Delphine’s ultimatum, the civil war as a collective, learning the tragic history behind the Falmer and the original Companions’ role in it, and killing of Vyrthur (no matter how much he genuinely deserved it).
She grows disgusted by herself down to the core. She takes to skooma to cope, and starts to be plagued by serious skooma-induced side effects. She ends up shutting herself away from all her responsibilities and distancing herself from her friends.
Does she get better? Maybe. I haven’t thought up anything past this point lol
Moureneris Alta
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A very, VERY ancient vampiric snow elf, (though it’s notable she was born a considerable amount of time after the razing of Sarthaal)
Survived many atrocities. Stayed in isolation with a band of vampires for countless years out of sheer disgust for the nature of the sapient races. (I’ll explain her full story some other time. It’s pretty complicated)
She was abducted from her isolated lifestyle by a certain person i’ll talk about later. She managed to free herself south of Skyrim, and uh, walks right into that Imperial ambush. The rest is history.
Super ignorant to modern society as a result of centuries of isolation. Exploited for comedic relief. (“What in the name of Oblivion is a Cyrodilic Empire? Are you messing with me? And please, how does levitation magic simply get outlawed by this hypothetical Empire? What are you to do when you fall down a crevice? Just... let yourself perish? How degrading.)
She reintegrated herself into society with vengeance in mind under the belief that all humans are savage bloodlusting murderers who had to answer for their treachery. (And she was royally angry there was no Dwemer left to spite, but partially satisfied at the same time). But she grows conflicted after being shown genuine kindness, even as early as being freed from her binds in Helgen.
Subsequently has a very muddled redemption arc. Queue Dragonborn hero stuff
She has impaired vision, but she cultivated detect life magic to aid her in daily life and combat (think Hyakkimaru from Dororo ‘19 and his soul detection or Toph Beifong from ATLA and her seismic sense). At her peak, she can detect life from about a kilometer away.
She can just barely read, but only if she holds the text incredibly close to her face, not to mention her Cyrodilic lessons were left unfinished after her abduction, making reading a very taxing process. Weary travelers are often spooked at the sight of a floating, ghastly looking elven woman with her nose pressed up against crossroad signs, and it has become somewhat of an urban legend.
Isn’t as nearly as skilled with detecting the dead and tenses up in burial crypts or around other vampires for that reason. Unfortunately, being the Dragonborn and all, she finds herself in a lot of crypts...
When questioned about her background due to her unique appearance: “Oh, yeah. My mother was one of those mer from the east. You know the ones. Dark elves, I think? And my father was one of those er, tall elv- no, sorry, HIGH elves. Yeah. They both died in a big fire or something though. It was horrible. I can’t get the noxious smell or the deafening screams out of my head. Good talk, but never ask me about that again.”
Queue sheltered old immortal antics: “Wow, you’re THAT old? Enlighten me on how it felt witnessing the fall of the Dwemer. Or perhaps the rise of Tiber Septim’s Empire. The Gates of Ob-“ “Oblivion if I know. I lived in someone’s basement for thousands of years. And I still don’t know what everyone means by Empire. You all are messing with me, aren’t you? That really annoys me.”
She ultimately returns to faith in Auri-El and makes it her life’s purpose to help the Betrayed find peace, as well as to seek out any remaining snow elf groups. Probably good friends with Gelebor or something.
Had a crush on Serana. We all know how THAT went. Damned temples.
Was originally gonna spiral into a much darker corruption arc (another ATLA comparison being Jet or Hama) but I just felt bad for her. Moureneris can have a little found peace. As a treat.
That’s her preliminary design made. I’ll need a mod to properly play her, because that right there was made by choosing Dunmer as her race. But I can’t do that. I’m on console, and while I got the Steam port a month ago, my PC’s stone age specs can’t handle Skyrim yet and I’ll need to wait until I can afford a better graphics card (thanks economic inflation)
Alexandre Armasi, jokingly nicknamed Alexandre the Curious
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A complete and unapologetic export of my character from a dead and unfinished DND campaign. Except there are no Aasimar in Skyrim, so he’s half Altmer half Bosmer. And his initial last name was Armas but I thought Armasi suited his Skyrim counterpart more, as subtle a change it is.
He’s mainly Bosmer in appearance and constitution, save for his hair and eyes, which are more similar to that of his Altmeri father’s.
I can’t really export his original backstory though because the campaign wouldn’t translate well into TES lore at all.
He’s a writer who came wandering into Skyrim in search of inspiration. While he mainly writes dramatic fables, he wanted to divert his focus to crafting his own bestiary and herbal compendium surrounding Skyrim’s fauna and flora. The ones at home are simply too vague to him!
He’s very altruistic, wishing to spread cheer wherever he goes, through the art of song (even though he was a cleric in DND and not a bard. My bad.) However, many of his verses are just blatant self promotions of his published fables.
But he’s too naive for his own good. Dangerously so. In fact, he says what’s on his mind with little forethought, with little grasp on the consequences of his actions, which lands him in lots of trouble. “I don’t favor him myself, but you guys kill people over Talos worship? That’s not very cool. A bit scary, if you ask me.” or “A Stormcloak rebel? Didn’t your leader kill a bunch of Reachmen rebels years back, or so I’ve heard. By the divines that’s not a man I’d make a symbol of nonconformity.”
He’s also insatiably curious. The type to ACTUALLY shove alchemic ingredients in his mouth with no knowledge of their properties, experiment with dangerous rune spells, throw rocks at pressure plates, and more. Needless to say he’s very accident prone.
Doesn’t know common curse words. People exploit this for laughs. Think that episode of Spongebob.
Everyone is a little baffled that HE of all people is the prophesied Dragonborn of legend. This agonizingly imbecilic writer who has absentmindedly wandered into burial crypts, troll dens, bandit forts, and more, too busy juggling his manuscripts to pay attention to his surroundings.
His past doesn’t exactly reflect his outlook on life. His mother and father fought in the Great War aligned with the Imperials despite their elven background. Both managed to live to see the war’s conclusion, but his father vanished without a trace shortly after, and it seems his mother knows something she won’t tell him.
With plenty of exposure to bad influences, his innocence is slowly lost throughout the course of his journey, and his altruism begins to grow twisted. But nevertheless, he maintains his jovial, social persona, except this time with much darker undertones. Kinda like a creepy dentist or something.
Whoops. He winds up becoming a feared Dark Brotherhood assassin. (Haha get it “Innocence Lost”???) He somehow deluded himself into thinking that the life of an assassin was the right thing to do. But he’s a funky little guy so he gets a pass for his heinous crimes against society
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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years ago
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Can you make an AU where someone randomly offers Peter P. some lemongrass tea (bc y'know spiders can't stand lemongrass)
Of course! I’m so sorry this took forever!
~~~~~
TW: Descriptions of allergic reactions
“Mr. Stark, if you had to choose between lavender and vanilla, which one?” Peter asked as they strolled down the sidewalk, Tony’s arm around his shoulders. 
He chuckled. “Hard decision, kiddo, but I’d go with lavender.” 
Peter shook his head. “Wrong answer. Vanilla is way better. Wait, is lavender ice cream a thing?”
“I don’t know kiddo, it sounds interesting though. Should we ask FRIDAY to order us some?” 
The boy laughed. “I dunno- hey look, Mr. Stark, there’s bubble tea!” Peter pointed to a shop across the street. “We should get some! Ned says it’s really good!” 
Tony grinned. “Of course, Pete. Let’s go.”
They crossed the street, Peter bouncing in in excitement. “I’ve never had it before!” he exclaimed. “Have you? Ned said it’s great! Did I say that already? I wonder what kind of flavors they have?”
The inventor’s heart flooded with love and adoration and (over)protectiveness. He bent to press a quick kiss to his kid’s hair, hiding the tears that sprang to his eyes. 
Before Peter, Tony thought that this much love couldn’t be humanly possible.
His kid’s warm brown eyes blinked up at him. “Mr. Stark, are you okay?”
Tony smiled. “Couldn’t be better.”
They walked into the shop, Peter inhaling the scent of lemon and fruits. His nose twitched and he stifled a sneeze. They stopped at the menu, where a perky looking young woman stood. 
“Hi,” Tony greeted, ignoring the customers turning to face him with gasps and exclamations. Peter pressed himself further into his side, and the genius hugged him closer. 
They studied the menu as the starstruck waitress stared at them. Finally Peter decided on a flavor.
“Ummm, could I have one lemongrass tea, please?” he asked, grinning adorably. “Just the small glass if that's okay!” 
The woman snapped out of her stupor and smiled. “Of course. I’ll get that right away. And for you, sir?” She turned to Tony. 
He shrugged. “I’ll take a small lavender.”
Peter shot him a glare with no heat behind it. They sat in a quiet booth, away from prying eyes. Peter immediately started chattering away, playing with the saltshaker absentmindedly.
The waitress hurried to them, holding their drinks. Tony guessed the whole kitchen now knew that Iron Man and a mysterious boy were in their shop.
Peter sipped his drink. “Huh, this is weird!” 
It had a strange lemony taste. He couldn’t decide if he liked it or not.
“You okay, Pete?” Tony’s voice startled him from his thoughts. 
“Yeah, Mr. Stark! I… I just….” he trailed off.
Wow, it was hot in here. Was it this warm when they came in?
He blinked slowly, his tongue burning suddenly. He barely registered the worried look on Tony’s face. 
Wait, Mr. Stark was talking. What was he saying?
Peter’s eyes were stinging and he felt too hot, like he had spent a day out in the summer sun. “M’s- m’ster S-Stark…” he tried. “W’a’s goin’ on?”
Tony looked scared. He cupped Peter’s face in his hands, asking soundless questions, his eyes frantic. The boy caught a few words like “Petey” and “Stay with me, sweetheart” and “I got you.”
Huh. Mr. Stark looked really scared. 
Peter tried to move his hand so he could comfort Mr. Stark, but it was limp and heavy. 
The genius cradled him to his chest, stroking his cheek. His head turned and Peter assumed he was shouting. 
Why was Dad shouting?
Ugh, it was so hot.
What happened to his tea?
~~~~~
Tony noticed something was off the moment Peter took a sip of his bubble tea. He was flushed and his eyes were glassy.
“You okay, Pete?” he asked, his tone borderlining on panic. 
“Yeah, Mr. Stark! I... I just....”
“Petey? Peter, baby, what’s wrong?” he stood, his heart stuttering in his chest. 
“M’s- m’ster S-Stark…” Peter slurred. “W’a’s goin’ on?”
“Petey, sweetheart, look at me, c’mon.” Tony cupped his cheek. “Stay with me, baby, just hold on, hold on. Please, baby.” He gently scooped Peter up, cradling him tightly against his chest. “I got you, mimmo, just breathe, okay?” He rubbed his back gently. “Come on, please, please, just breathe.”
His kid wheezed and choked slightly, his eyes wide and his face a deep red. 
Clutching his baby, he turned his head. “Help us!” he cried. “Please, my-my kid! Somebody help! Peter, please, just hold, okay? Hold on for me, baby. Hold on, just keep breathing.”
Tony bit back a sob, trying to hold it together. He tapped Peter’s cheek to keep him awake, begging him to breathe. 
A crowd gathered around him, gasping at the distraught, terrified Iron Man holding a small kid with blank eyes. Tony ignored them and kissed Peter’s forehead, rocking them back and forth gently. He felt tears trickling down his cheeks, and Peter wasn’t fucking breathing. 
“Help us!” he screamed. “Help him, please! Please, I can’t lose him!” 
God he couldn’t lose his kid he couldn’t lose his Peter please
Please please please no
Vaguely he could hear sirens nearing the tea shop, people shouting, and then the crowd parted and somebody tried to take his baby. 
Tony snarled, protectively holding Peter tightly in his arms.
No, no no no you can’t have him, he’s my kid
“Mr. Stark! You need to let us take him. We can help.”
And then his arms were empty, and Peter was gone.
No!
“No!” he screamed. “Give him back to me!” 
“Mr. Stark, please, calm down!” a voice insisted. “We have him, you need to calm down!”
But Tony would’t calm down, because his baby wasn’t breathing and wasn’t there with him and-
“Peter!” he screamed, catching sight of his kid, surrounded by strangers on a cot and god please not his kid.
He clawed his way to his baby, sobbing and just wanting to hold him close and never let go. 
“Mr. Stark, calm down, sir!” 
“No!” he cried, scrambling and trying to force his way to Peter. “No, il mio bambino, please! Please, not him not him!”
“Mr. Stark, he’s alright! He’s breathing, sir.”
Tony shoved away the nurses and doctors, cupping Peter’s red, slightly puffy face in his hands and pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. He sobbed, rubbing his thumb along his cheek, whispering words of love and agony and comfort. 
The boy’s eyes were closed, the oxygen mask strapped tightly to his face, his breathing wheezy. Tony sniffed and kissed Peter’s forehead again and again, holding his tiny, cold hand. 
“Mr. Stark,” said a man. “Can you tell us if he consumed anything? When did you first notice he was off?”
Tony answered their questions, his eyes never leaving Peter’s face. The paramedics loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, Tony not once leaving his kid’s side. 
He didn't move as doctors and nurses fluttered into the room, asking questions, taking tests, monitoring his vitals. He didn’t budge, stroking Peter’s delicate curls and murmuring his love to the boy.
More love than he once thought was humanly possible.
But it was possible, because he loved Peter, his baby, his kid, his universe. 
“I love you, Petey. So so much.”
More than you will ever know.
~~~~~
/DO NOT TAG OR REBLOG AS ST*RKER/
Taglist under the cut:
Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm @memilon @roxy3457 @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty
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misterbitches · 4 years ago
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I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed
Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:
keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.
The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:
- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)
-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose
- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try
But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.
0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.
1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.
Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.
I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is
2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.
There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.
The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.
So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.
At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.
fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.
Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”
If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.
Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.
And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.
Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao
Antiblackness
Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.
FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....
Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.
Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.
There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.
ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that
It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.
These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.
Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao
Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.
Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don’t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.
It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility
Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.
This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.
There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.
additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.
Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...
We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.
That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.
HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:
a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?
These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.
Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.
History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)
Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)
Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:
Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!
Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3
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jaideite · 5 years ago
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hi :D could i request tamaki with a s/o who cries easily? i adore your writing fiakdndncnc
wow so like I got super carried away with it ... but it was so cute to write !!! thank you for sending this in and awe stop your making me blush 🤡
on another note; Happy Thanksgiving everyone ! Hope your enjoying your time with your family!!
edit: THIS WAS SUPPOSED GO OUT ON THANKSGIVING F*CK ME WITH A LUNCHBOX happy holidays !
TAMAKI WITH A S/O WHO CRIES EASILY
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— tamaki has learned that with you, positive compliments mean crying
— “Your one of the bravest people I know.”
— “T-T-Tamaki...”
— he just shakes bc he made u cry
— and then he just whips out a box of tissues and then turns around to hide behind the wall while you cry over his compliment
— mirio commended you on a quick thinking move you made and tamaki had to ask for a couple toilet rolls from the janitor to dry up your tears that fell from your face
— you are so glad you keep makeup wipes in your bag because your mascara ran like the flash down your face skdkxk
— people in the halls just stare at you guys because jeez man he just complimented you it’s not that big of a deal—
— “I’m gonna make you proud Tama!” you blow into the tissue
— “You already do.”
— the waterworks are activated again
— he likes giving you compliments but he doesn’t like seeing you cry
— even if they’re happy tears
— “y/n, please don’t cry love...”
— you just huff and bawl your eyes out because hE cAlLeD yOu LOVE
— how are you not supposed to cry at the pet name like ???
— when you guys are out doing hero work and people compliment or cheer you guys on
— tamaki hides against the wall and you just swallow and start fanning your eyes
— “Y/HERO/N are you ok?”
— “I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine it’s just—“ sniff “whEW ok ok I think I’m good”
— then you look down at the crowd of people it’s all over man
— your quirk should be tears instead of whatever it is
— god your so glad you decided to put a mask on your hero costume cause when you took it off your mask had imprinted against your face and soaked all your tears and the eyeliner you used to fill in the gaps makes you look like a raccoon
— you kind of just 🥴 but keep it moving
— people are kind of surprised when they ask who asked you out first and you reply tamaki
— he gets shy when you tell the story bc he can’t believe that he was that brave and the fact that you cried that much kekskdkfmdn
— it took weeks for him to finally work up the courage to tell you he likes you
— every time he would walk up to you you would turn and he would pretend like he was going the wrong way
— until finally you turned and he managed to keep his ground
— “Tamaki! Is there something you need?”
— he just freezes and starts shaking
— mirio is in the wall thumbs up, nodding and ready to push him back around incase he goes to the wall to hide
— meanwhile he’s shaking like a leaf and stuttering looking back at you and the wall
— your vv concerned for him and ready to ask him does he need to go to recovery girl but then he finally speaks
— “I...I...I really admired your strength and quick thinking today...”
— “Oh...Tama—“
— “And uh...I think your really cool...and sweet...a-and pretty...i uh...”
— he gets so nervous he wants to turn around and run
— good thing nejire is around the corner so she can stop him lmaooo
— he’s shaking and your quiet until finally he just pulls out two tickets to go to an amusement park
— “And I...I was hoping you would go out w-with me.”
— poor tamaki is practically about to phase through the floor with all this shaking
— your just quiet until you make a noise and he looks up
— and holy shit your crying
— the big three are all confused like what lol he just asked you out not insulted you skdksks
— like snot running down your nose lips doing that weird inhale thing they do eyes red and makeup messy
— idk why y/n hasn’t invested in any waterproof mascara tbh
— he’s panicking and he’s like “oh no I did something wrong oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap”
— “I-I-I’m so sorry if I said something to offend you—“
— “I’ll go out with you!” You cry pulling out a handkerchief
— he just stares at you while you blow your nasty snotty nose into a handkerchief that’s gets washed 5 times a day
— “W-W” he cringes at that nasty blow you blow into the handkerchief and wipe your eyes “What day?”
— “I-It’s Saturday...if you...want to go.”
— you wipe your nose with your sleeve and take the ticket “Thank you Tamaki. I can’t wait to spend time with you.”
— then you leave and he’s just shaking bc yOu wANnA sPeNd tImE wItH hIm
— tamaki.exe has stopped working
— anyways fast forward a couple days and you guys head to the amusement park
— ur concerned bc he keeps hiding behind you while you guys walk around
— in reality he just really wants to hold your hand but he’s too shy lol
— so he just fine with walking behind you
— you guys play a couple of stands where you guys play and you continuously lose and he wins most of them and then shyly gives you the presents games and go on a couple rides and all in all have a good time
— he wins you a cute plushie of your pro hero agency and you swallow back your tears
— anyways you guys get to one of those stands where you can win a prize and
— There’s a Fatgum plushie smiling at you both
— you turn to him with a huge smile and go
— “I’m gonna win you one.”
— poor baby doesn’t know what to say bc he wanted to win you another plushie
— he wants to be manly like Kirishima kskdkskf
— but anyways you step up and grip the handle and swing as hard as you can and make it up to seven
— seven
— seven
— he watches your facial expression fall like a roller coaster and he is confused as to why you look like your about to cry
— but no you just pucker your lips and give the next person the mallot and walk off and he follows
— and your guys take about nine steps before you erupt like a geyser
— Everyone is just staring and he’s trying to calm you down but your just not lmao
— “Y/N, please. Calm down.”
— “I CANT BELIEVE I LOST!”
— “Y/N love it’s ok I still like you.“
— you just pause and look at him and he’s like starting to panick realizing what he did
— and you just stare and then start sniffing again
— he hoped him telling you he likes you would calm you down
— but it didn’t he just admitted his feelings and now your shook
— so he’s panicking and your crying because you lost AND the fact that he likes you
— wow you are sister shook
— but anyways once he stops panicking he finally manages to calm you down so you can enjoy the last half our of the amusement park
— your still bummed out about not winning like any of them at all but hey now you have stuffed toys to put on your bed
— he takes you to the bathroom first so you can clean up the mascara that has run down your face and made you look like a raccoon
— he gets you some food too because after crying you certainly do get hungry
— “What did you eat Tamaki?”
— he holds up a chicken leg (food and an actual chicken leg on his arm) and you end up choking and laughing
— he just smiles softly bc he’s glad he was able to make you smile again
320 notes · View notes
seongwhy · 5 years ago
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first of all thanks for your tumblr
i have a request please !! ateez with their love interest making the first move. It could be so sweet or hot... idk can't wait to read
THANK YOU ♥
@panda-tchi thank you!!! I'm so sorry it took long, i made a post about my absence, but I didnt knwo if you meant you wanted ateez making the first move or their love interest... so Im gonna do both !!! they'll be in parts so heres the first part
ateez making the first move on their love interest
hongjoong
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ok so in my head hongjoong is like,, rlly shy and cute and b aby!!!!
and so he wouldn't do anything unless he was absolutely sure abt it
he would be flustered walking you to your door and flustered when he grabbed your hand
but youd look at him and smile and hed know everything's going good
but with his cheeks red and his teeth showing hed move the hand that isnt holding yours to move your hair behind you ear
and hed step closer to yours
istg itd be like a cheesy ass drama
hed lean in to you and close his eyes rlly tight and his lips puckered and youd be like :')) what a cutie
but then youd lean into him and itd be a perfect harmony of sweetness and kisses
and hed pull away after kissing you with his face beet red and be like '...that was awesome' and youd laugh and hed go redder
I literally ugh I want this
hed say goodnight but wont let go of your hand :((( youd have to tell him
hed walk away giggling to himself and once he got home hed be so happy omg hed text you right away
'tonight was so fun.. see you again soon?'
seonghwa
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seonghwa,,,, baby
yall would be driving home from the date
and hed be driving and hed slip his right hand on your thigh !!! like the slick God he is !!!!
and youd be like.... oh shit
and when you look at him hed be smirking but still looking at the road bc hes a ~responsible driver~
but in his head hed be like 'is this ok???? what am.i doing AA'
then when he reached your place hed stop you from getting out so he could open the door for you gentleman style
hed give you his hand to get out, and then bring it around his waist
o m gee hed wrap his arm around your waist too
then at your door he would even say anything hed just grab you face and kiss you
and youd be ●-● for three seconds before smiling and leaning into it
and you can feel him smile too
then when you guys pull away bc of lack of breath he kisses your nose and your cheek and your hand
and tells you it was a pleasure and you'll see him tomorrow at lunch or smth
and he pecks you again and gives you the cutest smile and walks away giving you a few more looks as he goes
but
you yell at him to stop
and you invite him inside
what is he gonna do ?? say no ?
yunho
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ok so I see you and yunho being rlly good friends
and you're at his place/the dorm and you're making ramen together
and all the boys are playing video games or in their rooms or smth so it's just you two in the kitchen cooking it up yknow what I mean
and you're laughing at sum dumb thing he said
and then he just looks at you
and watches you with your pretty smile and your pretty face and your pretty hair and you look so pretty
and he just cant help but move closer to you
and then you stop laughing and look at him like ???
and he just grabs your waist and pulls you in
then he takes a deep breathe and does what hes been wanting to do for a while now
and kisses you
he kisses you like his life depended on it this guy cant hold back
you're so into it you both cant hear or think or breathe anything but each other
but then you hear a 'yah!!!!' and you step away from yunho to see an angry but cheeky seonghwa looking at you two and the overflowing boiling water on the stove
and you and yunho jump and go read and move to clean and both mumble an 'I'm sorry' to seonghwa
he walks away chuckling
and you two look at each other wide eyes and red faces and laugh
ah,,, such kids man
yeosang
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you and yeosang are going on a lil brunch picnic date
so u had to wake up early (a lil too early for you but dont tell him dat) to make sure your morning hair was tamed and your eyebags were covered
though yeosang wouldnt have cared what you looked like tbh
but when you answered your doorbell in the prettiest outfit hes ever seen, be wasnt complaining
he maybe took too long staring at you bc you had to clear your throat to get him to stop
he looked up at you, trying his best not to look flustered and he clears his throat too, sticking his hand out for you to hold on to
you smile at him and take his hand and step down your front steps
as hes waiting for you to step down the last one, he grabs onto your other hand and pulls (take a shot everytime i use that word in this post) you into him
he kisses you lightly
then whispers 'you look really pretty'
winks at you
and starts walking
you're standing at the end of your steps and gape at him
he looks back at you
'aren't you coming?'
san
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ok dis precious lil baby boi
hes nervous and hes masking it w confidence and jokes
but you can read right through them
but you're not gonna tell him that
hes walking you to the park where you'll sit and play with the doggos that walk by and he has some sandwiches in his bag (your favourite)
and you're talking and he asks you you're favourite color to which you answer and he stops
and you stop, confused
so you grab his arm and ask 'are u ok?'
and he looks at you and grabs your shoulders and says 'that's my favourite too'
and you're like ,,, ok cool wow let's keep going i wanna see he dogs
but he just looks at you and says nothing
and so u turn and walk with your arm in your hand to pull him along
but he just grabs it and pulls you into him
and kisses you !!!!! and you kiss back !!!
and then you part from him
and say 'all because you like purple too?'
and he laughs and smiles and hooks his arm into yours and starts walking again with a lil more pep in his step (if that's even possible)
mingi
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mango!!! my babie
mingi takes u on a lil arcade date
he tries his best to let you win every game you play
until it gets to one of those racecar games where he just loses himself in and therefore cannot lose to anyone
and when he wins he cheers and claps
until he looks over and sees you pouting that you not only lost to him, but got last place as well
he immediately stops cheering and pouts too
he starts making hand hearts and he grabs your hands and plays with them claps them together and boops your nose
he does everything until he sees you smile
and once you smile he does too
and he kisses your forehead and then your cheek and then he leans towards your lips, still smiling
and he kisses you
it's short but cute !! and lovely and keeps you wanting more
but he opens the curtain of the game thing and walks over to your side and grabs your hand
'c'mon, you can beat me in the next one'
wooyoung
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wooyoungie !!! takes you to an amusement park!!!!
yall have gone on all the rides, have tried every fair food you could and now the sun is starting to set (I think yall know where this is going)
theres only one thing you two havent done yet
and that's the ferris wheel !!!!
you two are sitting up there and you're gaping at the view in front of you
but though you thought the view was pretty ... he thought you were prettier sorry
and hes staring at you wishing youd just turn to face him so he kiss your pretty mouth
and then you do
so then he does
and you gasp!!! but melt into him
you put your hands in his hair
and he puts his on your face
and yall are kissing until you have to get off or pay for another ride
and he pays for another ride
but then you eventually get off and you eventually get home
and once hes home he doesnt hesitate to text you
and then hes hyungsik in that scene from strong girl bong-soon
and yeosangs telling him to stfu and go to bed
jongho
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plz this lil man can barely keep it together when he sees you
and he finally gets you alone?? what does he do with himself
apparently nothing. bc hes just sitting there
his hyungs know he likes you and you being wooyoungs bestie, you're chilling in the dorm
and the hyungs leave bc '... I have to .. nap' 'right!! and i have to ... go to the store !! we have no more ramen and you know the kids,, they need their ramen' and 'oh gosh, would you look at the time!! I've gotta take a shower!!'
and one by one it's just the two of you on the couch
and he freezes
I mean, you're just slouched down on your phone
but you look so... so pretty
and lovely
and like he could just kiss you
and now hes staring.
and now you've realized
and hes blushing and his throat is dry
'I.. uh . sorry do u want some water? I'm gonna go get some water'
without waiting for an answer he kinda just walks away mumbling 'so dumb. so dumb! damn u hyungs'
when he gets to the kitchen he pours himself some water and take a sip
be turns around and you're there !! oh no
jongho decides he doesnt give a f u ck. yolo. hes no pussy boi
and he just steps in and he pulls u in
and he kisses you
and he thanks God you kiss back
and now hes blushing. again
you kiss his neck to tease him and he turns redder
you back up and laugh
'I was wondering when you were gonna do that'
hes so happy he almost cries
thanks wooyoung!!!!
210 notes · View notes
knybits · 5 years ago
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hi!!! how about a soulmate au with tanjirou where the indicator is related to their hands (red string, marking on the palms, etc... anything is ok, so whatever works best for u! im just a sucker for these aus lol 😭 ty!
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yES MY BOY!! MY BABY BOY!! SUNSHINE!!! im so happy you requested this my hands havent flown faster since SEVENTH GRADE LMAOOOOO ugh this was too blissful for me to write :,) my crops are THRIVING youve saved my grades THANK YOUUUUU!! i too am a sucker for these aus and i cant believe youve hit the jackpot. wow. incredible. anyway i hope you enjoy this bc it was so fun to write!! ily!!!!!
SOULMATE!AU TANJIROU X READER
Everyone’s soulmate indicator is different. Nezuko has a timer on the back of her neck, and Tanjirou’s mother had his father’s first thoughts of her written on the bottom of her foot. 
Lucky for Tanjirou, his own mark is on the palm of his right hand. 
It’s a compass, always seeming to point east from his tiny village at the bottom of the mountains. 
Despite being a charcoal seller with dirty hands, Tanjirou always tried his best to keep his hands as clean as possible, although it was always extremely difficult. His clothes were especially dirty due to the countless times he would rub his hands all over them, but as long as he could see his compass, he’s more than happy. 
Nezuko always teased him for constantly thinking about his soulmate. She’d weave tall tales for him, claiming his soulmate lived across the ocean and that he’d probably spend a good portion of his life searching for them with how obsessed he seemed to be when it came to keeping his hands clean. 
But Tanjirou would laugh, wave Nezuko off, and claim that he’s more than happy living with his big family in the mountains, and that he doesn’t need his soulmate to be the happiest person in the world. 
But Nezuko would be unsatisfied with his answer, and wish that he would pursue a different happiness from his constant familial one. 
Tanjirou completely forgot about his soulmate the day Nezuko turned into a demon. 
He’d spend his days at Urokodaki’s house, training and training until his hands split open, only to repeat the next day.
The day he arrived at Urokodaki’s house and began his 2 years of training, it pointed south, but he hadn’t noticed. 
At the final selection test, it pointed south-east, and he still didn’t notice. 
In Tokyo? West, but he was too focused on staying alive to notice then either. 
When he met Zenitsu and Inosuke, it continued to point west. 
Nezuko was the only one to have continued to pay attention to his mark despite Tanjirou forgetting completely. Either that or he’s far too focused on Nezuko to care about his future. 
Nezuko’s heart would drop at the sight of his broken hands, the hands he always worked so hard to maintain to make sure that he could see his compass. It’s buried under calluses and cuts, scratches and dirt littering every line. They’re no longer soft like they used to be, instead thicker and worked to the bone.
In the midst of battle, she saw it waver from north to east before the two were captured and sent straight to the Butterfly estate. 
And now in comes you. 
Another pillar that basically lives at the Butterfly estate.
You were drinking tea out in the backyard patio when the three males (along with Nezuko) were heaved into the estate. 
At the sight of Tanjirou, your hand hurt enough for you to drop your teacup, and Aoi yelled at you for hours on end after, but for once you weren’t bothered by her screams. 
Your compass needle spun wildly the closer you walk up to Tanjirou, and when you flipped his right hand over, palm up, your eyes watered at the sight of how broken it looked. 
You could faintly make out the compass, and too pained to hope and be let down, you turned his hand over once again. 
But now, you can’t seem to erase his kind face from your mind, and your thoughts are littered of the injured demon slayer that resides in the medical ward next to your room. 
The day he finally wakes up, you decide to visit him. 
Upon knocking on the door to the room, you step in, a tentative, “Kamado… Tanjirou, is it?” 
Said male perks up at the sound of your voice, tightly gripping his right hand once seeing you. His nose twitches and his eyes widen; all movements easily seen by you. 
“Good, you seem well now. Care for a walk?” 
He mindlessly nods his head, lost in your eyes while the pain in his hand seems to grow. Nevertheless, he crawls out of bed and follows right behind you, where you lead him to an empty room with optimal privacy. 
“Tea?” You gesture to the pot, and he thanks you. 
You smile, looking down as your fluid motions captivate the male, and your voice snaps him back to reality. 
“You know, I think we’re soulmates. Do you?” 
Tanjirou’s face flushes a deep red, your honesty reminding him of himself. 
“May I see your hand?” 
He’s quick to obey your orders, laying his open palm into yours before grimacing at the sight of his hand. 
It’s recovered a little since his rest, but the sight is still nasty. You continue to smile anyway, tracing the faint compass that seems to be spiraling out of control. Your’s does the same, so you can easily confirm that he is in fact your soulmate. 
Your fingers trace over every bump on his hand, memorizing lines and rubbing circles with your thumb over specific spots. Your eyes are half lidded, focused without a hint of unwavering, but Tanjirou can’t seem to place love in your eyes.
“Sorry my hand is like this… I swear I didn’t mean to show any disrespect towards my soulma-” 
You silence him by bringing his hand to your lips, and he stiffens, face as red as Haganezuka’s mask. 
“You’ve worked so hard to find me… These hands are proof of your sacrifice, and I highly doubt it was the compass that led you to me in the end, Tanjirou.” He can’t help but shiver when his name passes through his lips once more, and his insides are in a violent turmoil. 
Just how much damage can your words do to him?? 
“Believe me when I say this, my love,” he can feel himself melt in your hands (literally). 
“But I’m so extremely happy to have you as my soulmate.” 
He can see the love in your eyes now. 
559 notes · View notes
okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago
Text
Waltzes are for Happy People
(a little fic I wrote in response to this ask I received where someone asked what kind of classical music Billy would listen to. I got really carried away giving Billy fond memories of family members he doesn’t get to see anymore. ♥ I made myself hurt but also it’s fluffy too so no worries)
you can find it on AO3 here
tags: fluffy, angsty, a couple of OCs that I made real quick just bc I wanted to give Billy family.
Warnings: brief mentions of abuse
Words:  3730
----
Billy has an aunt on his mother’s side.
She lives up in the Bay Area. She saw Billy a little bit after he was born, more than excited about meeting the newest baby in the family. And then again when he was about 4 and she came down to visit with her husband to take Billy to Disneyland and buy him cotton candy and little Mickey Mouse ears and take him on a Small World and let him meet Mickey.
When Billy is about 8, his aunt comes back down to drive him up to the Bay Area for Christmas. It’s a long drive, a semi-long stay, and a lot of random circumstances that lead to his being able to go. Neil’s childhood friend dies, Billy’s mother catches a stomach bug and can’t take care of Billy while they’re at home, and neither of his parents want their son going to this funeral or catching sick for Christmas.
And Billy’s aunt has been begging and pleading his mother to see Billy again. See how he’s grown, take him out to the city, have some family over at her house for Christmas because her husband left a couple years ago and she doesn’t like being alone for the holidays.
So that’s how Billy ends up on a drive up to the Bay Area with his aunt, listening to jazz music Billy’s never heard. The car smells of Christmas trees- Billy’s pretty sure it’s from the pine tree shaped car fresheners.
“We’re gonna see a show in the city for Christmas, doesn’t that sound fun?”
Billy shrugs. He figures it’s a movie. He’s never been to a show that wasn’t a movie. “What show?”
“The Nutcracker. You know, your cousin is performing in it. She got us tickets!”
Billy didn’t know he had a cousin.
But he has a wonderful time up in the bay. She shows him all there is to see and feeds him every piece of Christmas candy Billy can even think of and makes him hot chocolate and sits down with him to watch a different Christmas movie each night. He gets spoiled. Billy has never been spoiled.
And so on Christmas day, after opening presents (he gets one that his parents sent down with him, but the rest are from his aunt. Lots of cool toys he’d never think to ask for and a couple of shirts he actually thinks look pretty nice. Might be a bit too warm to wear down in San Diego, but still) and watching the Rockettes on TV, his aunt tells him to put on a nice, light sweater he packed and some nice jeans and they head out to the city to see The Nutcracker.
And Billy has always been kind of an antsy kid. He doesn’t like to sit down for too long. His teachers get upset at him because he can’t focus very well. But for something that has absolutely no words/speaking in it whatsoever... this is actually very interesting. The sets are huge, the costumes are colorful, their faces are so lively, the music is interesting. His heart absolutely drops when the tree grows big and the large fireplace comes out.
And yeah, he’s a little confused about the story, but he thinks the dancing soldier is cool and he likes the music that plays while he dances. The Rat King is kind of scary, he flinches a little when he sees him, but they’re sword fighting and that’s not what he thought he signed up for when he agreed to come to this. And then...
And then.....
And then Waltz of the Snowflakes comes on.
Women, 2 at a time, are running and jumping and... frolicking? onto stage and once the 4th one comes on, Billy’s aunt pats his arm and points.
“That’s your cousin!” She whispers. Billy tries to memorize what she looks like, but everyone is dressed the same and they’re all running on and off the stage and there’s a lot of them and Billy’s head is kind of spinning.
But...
But it’s beautiful. The music is spinning along with them as they twirl and sparkle and the music has so many different sounds all at once and it’s almost overwhelming. But it’s beautiful and Billy keeps asking his aunt which one his cousin is because he wants to watch her. Billy memorizes her face a couple minutes into the dance. She’s beautiful, even though Billy can’t really see her face. It’s just the way she moves. Billy thinks she’s the best dancer on that stage, even better than the girl with the skirt that sticks out and dances in front most of the time. No, he’s not biased, his cousin is the best. She jumps higher and her faces are better and her hands are nicer and she’s just better, thank you. Of course she’s better, she’s his cousin.
And suddenly the music is amping up, then it’s swirly and his cousin is running to their side of the stage. Billy and his aunt are sitting in the front row, all the way at the end, and his cousin is coming towards them, stopping in the corner, posing and smiling prettily and Billy swears she makes eye contact with him and smiles wider and winks. Billy’s returning smile is involuntary.
And then the music stops. Everyone’s clapping. Billy tags along. He kinda wishes it could keep going, it was just so pretty and the rest of it has been cool, sure, but that was just... so pretty. Billy’s never seen snow before but now he wants to live in it.
But then there’s music underneath the clapping. Something low and almost threatening and-
It gets faster. His cousin looks like she takes a big breath before she runs away to join the rest of the girls, spinning and twirling and kicking and jumping. There’s voices singing now and it’s almost like the girls are singing and then there’s snow.
Like... lots of snow.
It’s a blizzard, all of the girls running and jumping and spinning and the music is rising and getting louder, impossibly louder and it’s inside Billy’s chest and he almost can’t see anyone through the snowfall but he can still pick out his cousin, he swears on it, and then-
It’s... quiet again. The music is soft. There’s probably story happening but Billy is busy watching his cousin and the girls around her, all of them breathing real heavy and he’s joining them because wow the music was so intense he felt it. And the snow is still falling and the little girl from the beginning comes and goes on some sleigh and they all pose and then the curtain is falling and... the lights come on.
“How did you like it?” is the first thing his aunt asks and Billy feels frazzled.
“It’s over?”
She laughs. “No honey, that was just the first act. Isn’t your cousin good?”
Billy nods. “Yeah.”
She leads him out to the lobby, buying them both a cookie in the shape of a Nutcracker to munch on before the next act starts.
And the rest of the show is pretty, the music is all so different and it all hits him differently, but he can’t stop thinking about all that snow. About the swirling sound of the music. About the way the people on stage were the music it was... it was something Billy’s never seen or heard and he’s floored. Still.
After the show, his aunt holds his hand (to his dismay. He is eight, y’know. He doesn’t need his hand held.) and walks him out of the theater. Everyone lingers around the front, chattering among themselves and shivering slightly in the cold, but his aunt leads him around the side of the theater and over to a rather large door that has a different kind of bustling energy. They stand there, waiting as people run in and out with an excitable and happy chatter surrounding them. When he looks up to her to ask what they’re doing, she leans down to tell him they’re waiting for his cousin.
And yeah... Billy was right, she’s beautiful. Billy feels kinda proud about it? He knows his mom is pretty, his aunt is also pretty, it makes sense that his cousin is just as pretty. Maybe prettier? Although she does have a lot of make-up on and crazy long eyelashes. They almost touch her eyebrows.
“Hey mom! Hey, you brought the kid!” She bends down a little bit to be at eye level with him, putting her hands on her knees. “What’s up, little dude, how’d you like the show?”
Billy just nods, a little amazed. Her presence is so large.
“Not too boring for ya?”
Billy shakes his head. She laughs a slightly raspy laugh.
“Good! I was a little worried when my mom said you were coming. I’m Margaret by the way.”
She holds her hand out to shake. Billy takes it.
“Billy.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Billy! I love your hair. It looks like it curls up, huh?”
Billy nods. She ruffles it a bit.
“I wish mine curled up like that.” She straightens out and smiles down on him before turning to her mom and asking how their Christmas has been. Having a little conversation with her, saying “I don’t have any more shows, so I can come celebrate with you. I don’t need to go to whatever party they’re having, not when my baby cousin’s in town!”
She ruffles Billy’s hair again. He scrunches up his nose at the use of the word “baby” and she just laughs at him before getting a mischievous look in her eye.
“Hey, you wanna see something cool?” There’s fire dancing in her eyes. Billy nods. She looks back at the stage door and then grabs his hand and presses her finger to her lips. “Shh. Come with me.”
She gives a small wave to her mom and tells her they’ll be back before pulling Billy through the stage door.
Past it is a river of people. Everyone rushing around and chattering and wearing absolute masks of make-up. They all leave trails of sparkles behind them and Billy’s pretty sure he has some in his hair that’s gonna be real hard to get out.
But Margaret is waving hi and patting people on the back and shoulder with her left hand and holding Billy tight with her right, breaking through the crowd and leading his way until they get up to a large door.
She turns to face him and puts a finger to her lips again. “Remember, shh! Alright?”
Billy nods.
She opens the door behind her and pulls him through and it’s dark. Real fucking dark, especially when the door closes. But she takes him around a corner and-
Someone stops them.
“Hey, Charlie! Just passing through.”
“No.” He says, not looking up from his clipboard.
“Come on, I have my baby cousin with me!” She pulls Billy forward. “He’s never been on a stage before! He drove hours up here to see me, you can’t let us out there for five minutes?”
The guy- Charlie -looks down at Billy with a cold look. Billy can read the situation and puts on his best puppy dog face. He knows his blue eyes can get him anything he wants. He’s done it plenty times at arcades and candy stores.
Margaret gestures to him. “See! He just wants to see the stage!”
Charlie sighs. “Fine. You have five minutes, alright?”
“Thanks Charlie! Love you!” Margaret says quickly before taking Billy fully around the corner and-
Woah.
In the darkness of the curtains and large set pieces, there’s what seems like a full room of light. From where Billy’s standing it looks like heaven. Like they’re walking into the light and they literally are but... 
“Whaddya think?” She asks as they walk out onto the illuminated stage.
The sets are massive. A lot bigger than they look from the audience. The ground is covered in this weird, yellow-ish, powdery stuff with confusing patterns in it and Billy is looking out into the rows and rows and rows and rows and rows of seats. Looks up at the balcony. Stares in awe.
“Uhm… woah.”
Margaret smiles wide. “I know, right? Isn’t it gorgeous? Oh! That’s where you were sitting, right?” She asks, walking over to the front right corner of the stage. “And this is where I was! Snowflake number four.”
She gives him a bright smile and then a shrug.
“They don’t actually give us numbers, but I like to call myself Snowflake number four.”
Billy laughs a bit.
“Sounds important.” Billy says quietly, kicking at the dusty stuff on the ground. Margaret laughs and shoves at his shoulder.
“You bet it is! If I don’t come out, the show can’t keep going.”
Billy chuckles, shakes his head, looks around the stage and watches the people bustling around, watches the sets get moved, watches the way Margaret walks gracefully around the stage, spinning a bit, like she’s dancing.
“Do something.” Billy’s voice blurts out before he can think about it. She turns to him with a laugh.
“Do something? Do what?”
Billy shrugs. “Dance?”
She nods. “Alright, I guess. But only if you dance with me!”
Billy’s immediately apprehensive, and it seems like she can tell, because she laughs and moves to stand right next to him. “Come on, it’s not too hard. Just put your foot out- yeah, there you go! Now stick your toes down… yeah! And jump a little… You got it!”
And she walks him through a few more jumps that for him are hops, and she holds his hand and spins him around, and then she says: “C’mere! I bet I can lift you, just stick your legs out.”
And so he lets her lift him and tries to stick his legs out as much as he can as she lifts him up a bit and sets him down on the right side of her, both of them full of giggles.
“Look at that! You could be our next Clara! Think I would make a good Nutcracker?”
Billy nods. “Yeah, I think you’d be pretty good.”
“Thanks, little dude.” She ruffles his hair again.
“The costume might be too big though. His head is huge.”
“Eh.” She swipes at the air. “I’ll wear shoulder pads.”
And they walk around and Margaret twirls and she shows him the tree and Billy wants to climb it and she lets him get in the sleigh and at that, Charlie shoos them away.
And so they run away in a fit of giggles, meeting back up with Billy’s aunt outside to spend the night on the city. They walk around and see all the lights. They go to the park and see a large Christmas tree all lit up. They tell stories and laugh and buy cookies at a little bakery on the corner and they head back home and watch Christmas movies all bundled up and Billy thinks this might be the most beautiful Christmas. Lights and warmth and music and all.
His cousin gifts him a little snowflake ornament.
“It’s me! Snowflake number four.” She’s excited and he laughs with her at that. “So you remember to come back and see the show again some time. They’ve got me locked up in a contract, so my ass is gonna be here for a while. You can bring your parents too! I’d love to see my Auntie Seashell again.”
Billy doesn’t know what she means exactly, but he smiles at her giggle.
She gives Billy a big, squishy hug and tells him- “I’m serious, little dude. You’ve gotta come back and see me! You’re good company.”
Billy promises. He’s adamant.
The drive back down is faster than he wants. Sadder than he wants. He thinks he’ll miss the jazz music but he doesn’t know why. He feels the temperature get warmer and misses the pinching of the cold air.
And of course, Billy doesn’t go back. Not before his cousin is done with the Nutcracker. Not before she’s done with her ballet career completely. Ballerina’s careers are short lived anyway.
Christmases in San Diego get colder. Far, far colder. His mother leaves and he’s there, freezing in their 70 degree house because nothing feels right. He only sees cold glares, the only touch he receives is the harsh back of a large hand and he’s… he freezes over. Christmas isn’t warm here like in the 35 degree weather of the city, holding the soft hands of two women who looked at him like they cared. Even with his new sister and new… no. Not even these new women in his life could feed warmth into the holidays.
She’s not my mom. He had growled at his new stupid sister before he pushed her over.
But every year around Christmas, Billy thinks of his Margaret. Thinks of his aunt and his cousin and all of the other family he probably has that he doesn’t know a damn thing about. About all of the people who look like him out there. About all of their talents. They’re the only memories that keep him warm. The thought that there are people out there who look like him. There are people of his flesh and blood out there who might love him if they knew him. If they knew he was here, freezing on the floor of a home that deems him unloveable.
He still has the ornament. He stopped putting it on the tree when his dad started getting more violent. More angry. After the one year where his dad knocked the tree over and caused more than a handful of ornaments to shatter, including the one that they bought for Billy’s first Christmas. The one they always made sure Billy put up every year.
Every year Billy thinks of going to see that show. Of how bright the city was. He hears the random Nutcracker songs they play on the radio and in Christmas commercials and he feels his heart light up.
The Christmases are a lot colder in Hawkins, but he still warms at the sound of the ballet.
And everyone is very very very confused when he buys a cassette tape of the Nutcracker.
But the first day it snows, the first time Billy sees it actually snow from the sky for the first time in his life, he hears the song playing through his head. He puts the tape in. He sits in the window with a mug of hot chocolate and he watches. No one understands.
Until he talks to Steve about it. One night when they get snowed in at Steve’s house and Billy is getting lost in the swirling snowfall, thinking he sees girls that look like his cousin dancing on the wind, even if they’re blurry and vague, and asks Steve for a mug of hot chocolate.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
Billy feels his breath pull inside of him.
“My cousin.”
There’s a pause.
“I didn’t know you had cousins.”
“Yeah well…” I didn’t know it for a long time. Billy thinks. “Yeah. I do.”
Steve watches his boyfriend, sees his eyes track something outside like there’s something to see that isn’t just snowfall.
“What’s got you thinking about your cousin?”
Billy’s eyes burn a bit.
“She…She lives back in California. And when I met her… she was in the Nutcracker. In San Francisco.”
“Wow.” Steve sounds impressed. “Sounds cool.”
“Yeah, she was pretty fucking cool. She was really good. She uh… She was a snowflake.”
Steve sees the breath fill Billy’s chest and exit slowly.
“Snowflake number four.” He mutters before biting at his lip. It’s an anxious gesture.
“Sounds like an important part.” Steve jests.
Billy chuckles a bit at that, being pulled quickly into a memory, even for a brief moment. He feels he’s gonna get whiplash from it.
“Yeah.” he says absent-mindedly.
They sit. Steve watches the snow like he sees something now too. He doesn’t. He just sees snow. But if he thinks real hard, he can see a tiny figure dancing on the falling flecks.
He, too, went to a ballet once. With his mom and her friends and one of their daughters. It wasn’t a horrible experience, but it was definitely irritating being toted around like a trophy instead of a son. Steve had disliked the show just out of principle for hating the experience.
“Is that why you’re always listening to that tape you have? Of the Nutcracker?”
Billy laughs. “Yeah, yeah, it is. It was just… It was such a good Christmas. It was probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
Billy doesn’t want to say it was because they were his family and he felt a connection with them, but he thinks that’s why. He loves his found family, he’d die for them a million times over. He doesn’t even have to think about it. But…
Those two people were blood relatives of him. There was a connection there that made him feel a different kind of special.
Steve watches Billy yearn for something he can’t see. He pulls Billy into his lap and they cuddle up underneath blankets to watch the snow together.
Steve listens as Billy gushes. He put a little liquor into his hot chocolate, gets a little loose about speaking like he does when he’s tipsy, and tells Steve all about how pretty it was. How beautiful. How talented and gorgeous his cousin was and “Of course she was, she is my cousin.”
Steve chuckles at that.
And one Christmas, Steve gives Billy an envelope for a gift.
“Gee, what a special present.” Billy says with more confusion in his voice than actual disdain. Steve laughs anyway and waits for Billy to open the envelope.
He pulls out two strips of paper.
“Tickets to…? Really?” Billy asks, looking up at Steve with wide, confused eyes.
“In New York, yeah. I know they’re not in San Francisco and I know your cousin won’t be there but… I dunno. I thought it’d be fun. You seem to like the music at least and-”
Billy hugs Steve tight immediately. Squeezes him hard and buries his face in Steve’s neck and mumbles multiple thank yous.
Steve laughs.
(catch it on AO3 here)
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azaraspirit · 5 years ago
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21 41 46 please?
you got it anon! man im getting a lot of these today!
21. kiss on a dare 41. forbidden kiss 46. long kiss
They’re all Peter bc i love that boy with all my heart
21. kiss on a dare/46. long kiss. (41 will be seperate! this turned longer than i planned! lol! 
Peter instantly regretted telling Ned he liked you. Sure he’s a good friend but sometimes Ned does things he doesn’t want him to do even if it’s for the better. Things like dragging Peter to a party he didn’t wanna go to and starting a truth or dare game. Peter wanted to run and hide. Lie about Tony needing him. But Ned made sure Peter wasn’t going anywhere and conveniently had him sit right next to you. 
You all sat in a circle almost like spin the bottle but a game of truth or dare. You blushed, feeling Peter’s thigh brush against your own. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, looking a bit nervous.
“Okay, who’s first?” Ned grinned.
Oh god, Peter thought. here goes. 
“I got one!” Flash grinned, who was on your other side. “I dare MJ to take her shirt off.”
The crowd chuckled and oo’d like children. “Bitch, please, that’s all you got?” MJ grinned. She slipped off her shirt to reveal a spaghetti strapped satin top underneath. “Now I dare Flash to take off his.”
Flash just grinned and didn’t hesitate. You rolled your eyes. “Good lord.” you muttered.
“Okay, my turn!” Ned raised his hand. He flickered his eyes between you and Peter. “I dare Peter to kiss y/n.” he sneered.
Everyone turned to the both of you.
“Ned, seriously?” Peter asked.
“It’s the rules. You gotta kiss her.”
Peter looked at you. You nodded, letting him know it was okay. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined your first kiss happening. Not that he wasted time thinking about it or anything. 
“Any time, now, Parker.” Flash teased.
Peter glared at him then went back to you. He hesitated another moment before kissing you, it was soft but quick.
“What? No tongue?” Flash mocked.
You pulled away to slap him hard on the shoulder. “Shush!”
You excused yourself shortly after, feeling weird about what happened. You knew Ned meant well and knew that he started it. But that’s not how you wanted it to go. Not in front of a crowd. Not forced. You wanted your first kiss to mean something-be sweet and intimate. Now that was taken away from you.
Everyone moved inside before the game because it started to rain but you wanted to be alone and you didn’t mind as long as it wasn’t too hard. It was light sprinkles now, the worst of it already passed. You sat at the edge of the pool, watching your barefeet swirl in the water. Water always calmed you down. 
“Hey,”
You looked over to see Peter standing there, smiling. 
“Hey,” you greeted back.
“Mind if I join you?”
You patted the spot next to you. Peter took off his shoes and also put his feet in the water. He was wearing shorts so he didn’t have to worry about getting them wet.
“Sorry about that.” he said after a long moment.
“About what?”
“The kiss. I didn’t want to but…it was a dare…”
“It’s okay.”
“No it wasn’t. That wasn’t fair. I wanted to kiss you but…not like that.”
You blushed, looking up at him. “You wanted to kiss me?”
Peter blushed this time. “Well yeah…I like you…”
“I like you, too.” you smiled.
Peter awkwardly took your hand. 
It felt silent between around you, only hearing the quiet murmurs of the party behind you and the gentle rain.
“I thought about kissing you.” Peter spoke up. “Once or twice.”
You giggled, looking up at him. “Only once or twice?”
“Okay, maybe a few more times.”
“I thought about it too. Kissing you I mean. I bet it would be nice.”
Peter looked at you with his soft brown eyes. They almost glowed from the lights underwater. Did you say what he thought you said?
“I would like to kiss you again…if that’s okay?” he asked shyly.
You giggled again, giving his hand a little squeeze. Peter took that as a yes. He let your hand go only to gently brush your cheek. Your face turned red like a strawberry. Peter slowly leaned inward. He paused just as his lips almost touched yours. He was scared. But you couldn’t wait any longer and kissed him. 
Peter’s eyes widened, not expecting your sudden kiss. But his eyes soon closed as he kissed back, cupping the side of your face. He swore he felt like he was floating on a cloud or on magic carpet like Aladdin. He almost forgot to breathe and broke a part but only for a few seconds before he found your lips again. 
You never felt more alive as you kissed the boy you loved your whole life. You loved him long before he became a super hero. Warmth spread through your body despite the chilly night air. Peter was like a radiator. He pulled away to breathe but you stole a few more kisses.
You both laughed, blushing. “Wow.” you breathed.
“That was…” Peter spoke.
“Remind me to thank Ned later. This wouldn’t have happened without him. Or this.” 
Peter looked at you, confused. He cried out as you shoved him in the water. He broke the surface a few moments later, grumbling. “What the hell?”
“You were already wet.”
“Yeah well so are you.” He took your hand and pulled you in, making you shriek.
“Rude!” you smiled.
“You started it.”
***
41. forbidden kiss. 
You were a Stark so the rules didn’t apply to you. You were a rebel. You broke every rule you could. Tony would ground you if he wasn’t so damn proud. You’re rebellion definitely came from him so if ever protested you’d just use the “yeah well it’s from your side of the family” card. 
But there was one rule he was serious about. One rule you haven’t yet to break. Do not, without a doubt, date or kiss any boys, until you’re eighteen.
You played along. You were a hero’s daughter and a hero in training. You didn’t have time to date let alone meet anyone your age when you live in a tower full of heroes. That is until well a new guy showed up. A cute guy. A guy the same age as you. 
Fuck.
Your face instantly heated up when Tony first brought Peter over to join the team. He was cute. Really cute. Tony gave you a warning look, a reminder of his number one rule. 
You did your best to listen. You really did. But you wanted a friend and with the only age appropriate person being a cute boy well that’s really Tony’s fault. 
It was awkward at first, considering you didn’t really socialize much. But after a few weeks, you considered Peter a friend. Then a couple months went by and you became besties. It was less than a year before you were completely head over heels in love with him. You never told anyone except Nat. You weren’t sure why but you told her everything. Not even Wanda knew everything.
“You’re so in love.” Nat grinned.
“I know.” you sighed, the first time you told about Peter. “But you also know my dad and his number one rule….”
“So? Has that stopped you before?” Nat asked.
“No but…he would be so mad…like madder than usual…”
“Well to be fair, he shouldn’t have recruited a totally cute age appropriate boy.” Nat said.
“I thought that too but…” This was the one rule you actually didn’t want to break.
“I say fuck it and do it.” Nat shrugged. “I won’t tell him.”
You sighed. 
***
“You’re so weird.” you giggled as Peter crawled on the ceiling as you walked down the hall.
“It’s pretty cool, you said it yourself.” he said.
“Yeah when we first met. Now it’s weird.”
You almost shrieked, Peter suddenly hanging upside down from his web fluid. He was in his suit but no mask, his cute curls that you loved so dear dangling. You were almost nose to nose, blushing.
“Is this weird too?” he chuckled.
You stared dully at him. “I wanna swat you with a newspaper.” you giggled.
“Rude. I’m not a fly.” Peter retorted.
You rolled your eyes. 
Peter cleared his throat. “Hey uh, so I was told that you like me. Is that true?”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
“Nat told me you thought I was cute.”
You scoffed. “What? No. I don’t think that at all. Why would I think that? Stop being so weird, Parker.” You tried to walk away but he took your hand, pulling you back. He pulled you close to where your lips pressed against his, not caring being upside down. 
You pulled away, your face red as his Spider-Man suit. 
“Now you’re not in trouble.” he grinned. “I kissed you. So your dad can yell at me.”
You gawked at him, speechless. 
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