#i never look up which story they use so when i reached the exact same scene it was an eureka moment

[francisgirlie]

the scream i screamed when i accidentally read the story an episode of sherlock & co. is based on

[literaryavenger]

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?" 

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

[charmercharm3r]

Can I make a request? Lee Know being a soft dom and possessive with a brat gf. They had an argument, but later meet up at an event. She wore a shoooort dress that barely covers her butt just to get to him and she gets punished when the get home. The brain rot is real >.<

I'm so sorry this took almost a month...it's been a loooong December. hopefully this is worth the wait!

Angels in Bodycons

LMH

Masterlist

wc: 5.2k

warnings: smut, sexual explicit content, dom!minho, angry sex?, orgasm denial, use of toys, handcuffs, masturbation (m), cumshots, reader is a brat, mean nicknames (slut), jealousy?, also fluff sprinkled in there

-

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” Minho wasn’t budging. It was the same argument about the same dress every time. He loved it and despised it, the glossy black satin was perfectly shaped to your body and bunched slightly at the hips, accentuating your curves. The sweetheart neckline was lined with lace, he couldn’t pry his eyes away. The only other place he ventured to stare at was the decreasing length, your legs completely exposed and your ass just barely covered. Which was the exact reason Minho refused to let you leave the house wearing it.

“You’re sounding a bit possessive there, babe. It’s my body.” You weren’t supposed to be getting ready for another few hours, hair messy and face bare as you reached into your top to adjust your breasts so they filled the cups nicer.

Minho was supposed to be attending another red carpet event and he was allowed a plus one— not that anyone knew. Dating in his profession is, after all, forbidden. No one needed to know anyways, but having to keep you a secret made him all the more anxious to bring you with him. He couldn’t hold your hand or sling an arm around your waist when someone was getting just a bit too close. Being dressed moderately was the one thing he asked of you during times like these.

“No, it’s our body. Because you’re mine,” he stood from his spot on the bed, coming up behind you and kissing your cheek. Just as he did, he slyly unzipped the back of your dress.

The sweet gesture was just a diversion from his words that you processed a second too late. He was already making his way into the bathroom when you spoke again. “My body is my body, Min.” Bathroom door just slightly ajar, you knew he could hear you.

You stepped out of the dress and hung it, displaying it on the bedroom door. “Sure, of course it’s your body, baby,” he called back. “But this is a big event. I don’t want you to embarrass me by wearing something that looks like you just walked out of a love motel.”

Goosebumps raised against your bare skin, temperature suddenly running hot even though you were just in panties and a bra. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin by his words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Your voice raised.

Minho kicked the bathroom door open a bit wider, barely peeking at you from over his shoulder as he picked up his shaving cream and razor. “Don’t make that face. You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed now. “Explain it to me in a way my tiny hooker mind can understand.”

“I never said you were—“

“You didn’t have to.”

“Babe, c’mon. I don’t have time for this now. You know how I feel about the dress. End of story.”

He continued on with his routine, mumbling something about having to get to the company for hair and makeup before going to the event. You sat in your shared bed with the covers up to your neck, almost stewing in petty anger. The conversation about the dress ended the same way every time, there was no winning when Minho was this stubborn.

The goosebumps didn’t fade as you watched him scurry around grabbing what he needed. His words replayed in your mind and only added to your growing temperament. It made you feel small, humiliated, and self conscious. Is that really what he thought of you? Was that the real reason he didn’t want to be seen in public with you?

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me now? If we get there early, they might have time to do your makeup, too.” Minho offered as he slipped on his shoes.

You hadn’t moved an inch since covering up in bed. “No. Don’t want your hooker girlfriend to embarrass you.” He stopped dead in his movements, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

“Please, Y/N. You’re not a hooker and you‘re not an embarrassment.”

He was about ready to leave when you muttered to yourself in anger, “not an embarrassment ‘cus I technically don’t exist.”

“I heard that.” Entirely fed up, Minho almost walked out the door right then. But even through his negative emotions, he made his way to the bedroom to see you off. Coming up to your side of the bed, he leaned in to kiss you. When you didn’t kiss him back, Minho clicked his tongue and grumbled, “fine. Don’t bother coming if you’re going to be like that. See if I care.” And he left.

It had been hours since you last spoke to your boyfriend. Fighting with him was the one thing you hated most, it was tiring and unnecessary. But this was an ongoing issue. If he hated the dress that much, he would’ve thrown it away and not told you. Instead, he ogles you in it and promises to rip it off your body while simultaneously threatening to burn it if you dared to wear it outside the confines of your house. His last parting words sparked what would be the beginning of your worst idea yet.

Pretty, coquette-esque makeup, hair neatly styled, the only thing missing was your dress. The one Minho specifically wanted shredded called out to you. It was screaming for you to put it on and see if he cares. That’s exactly what you did.

You showed up to the event in the dress, adding some sheer tights for the littlest bit of decency possible. You disregarded all the looks you got from strangers as you entered the building and did as told so that you could get in as an artist plus one. Contrary to Minho’s thoughts on the dress, his stylists had another opinion. Befriending them back when you first started dating had since boosted your ego exponentially, they were always kind and supportive. Especially now as you spotted them along the side of the large ceremonial room. You stuck with them, talking about anything and everything as you scanned the crowd. “He’s over there,” one of them mentioned, motioning with her eyes towards your boyfriend and his group members.

They were huddled around their table like a pack of high school boys, laughing amongst themselves when one of them tossed a half empty water bottle into the air and landed straight up. On the far side of the table that faced you, you made eye contact with Chan, who discreetly nudged your boyfriend next to him. Minho shot his head in the direction of his friend's eyes and landed on you. For a moment, he smiled brightly. Then his gaze tracked down and the smile faded. Slumping back in his chair you could see him purse his lips and tongue at his cheek in annoyance.

The displeased expression on his face made you feel vulnerable, heart shaking in your chest a little as you nervously tug the end of the dress down. Perhaps the sudden change in your attitude drew too much attention, the same stylist put her hand on your shoulder and said sweetly, “you look good. Don’t worry about him.” You gave her an apologetic smile.

It was a few more hours of mingling with the hair and makeup group, whom you’d grown accustomed to hanging out with at these events. The few of you found an open table and were chit chatting when someone came up behind you, leaning over your shoulder and saying, “hi, are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.”

The voice was one you didn’t recognize, turning to find a man. He didn’t seem to be dressed as the other idols in flashy clothes but rather a simple dark blue suit. He introduced himself and took the empty seat next to you. Over the course of a few minutes of talking to him, you found out he was a stylist for another group, to which your friends welcomed him happily.

What you didn’t see was your boyfriend boring holes into the back of your head from across the room. If anyone outside of your group had any idea of your relationship, they’d see the steam coming out of his ears.

By the time the end of the night rolled around, you’d only glanced at Minho a handful, each time he was already looking at you with clear anger. The male stylist next to you leaned over to you once more and whispered, “you look amazing.”

Your eyes went wide for a moment, caught off guard. An unknown blush creeped upon your cheeks, “thank you,” was all you’d said in response.

But Minho could see everything. He could see the stranger lingering a little too closely for a little too long, he could see your lips smiling and moving overly enthusiastically, he could see you getting flustered at whatever it was the man was telling you. He watched your little group stand and start to leave for the night. The man put his hand on the small of your back and stayed by your side until it was time for you to part ways. In the minute it took to say goodbye, you never once adjusted the length of your dress, ass practically on display for the entirety of the industry to see. 

All the while, Minho did his best to keep a cool demeanor. But his friends were walking too slow for his liking, ultimately taking the lead and striding perhaps a bit too fast for any normal idol to be taking when parting the spotlight.

You were still conversing with some of the other staff when the group walked into the lounge room. Already stripping off his costume blazer, Minho silently made his way over to you and handed the coat to the stylist, shooing her away as politely as he possibly could in the heat of his anger. “Hey baby,” you whispered, smiling sweetly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He backed you against the wall, keeping his voice low.

“Supporting you? Talking with my friends?” You tilted your head up, “you look great, so cute in white.” The tips of your fingers played with the hem of his button up.

Minho grabbed your hand to stop your fidgeting, gaze hard on your face and dead serious. It was hard to keep up the playful attitude when you could feel the heat of his feverish skin. Your smile faded, meeting his stare. Subconsciously you pulled down the hem of your dress, arms coming up to cover your chest. The way he was looking at you now wasn’t your boyfriend, it wasn’t loving or sweet— instead replaced with exasperation and a bone chilling void that took over his usual warm eyes. He didn’t need to say anything else, only barely furrowing his eyebrows and letting the grip on your hand loosen slightly.

He didn’t need to say anything else when you moved towards his spare change of clothes and took his hoodie and draped it over yourself. He didn’t need to say anything as you pulled your dress down as far as it would go. He didn’t need to say anything as you waited for him to be allowed to leave and ordered a cab as soon as possible. Even as the two of you made your way home in silence, his hands in his lap but knees laid against yours, Minho didn’t say anything. 

The walk from the outside of your building up to your front door felt both too slow and not slow enough, the bubbling nervousness in your gut as your boyfriend threw his keys onto the coffee table and ran a hand through his neatly styled hair finally burst. Word vomit.

“I— I know you’re mad and I’m sorry for not doing as you wanted but I don’t regret wearing the dress. You might not like me in it but I felt pretty for once! In a room full of beautiful people, I felt pretty and I felt confident, then you look at me like you’re disgusted by me and it makes me feel like shit. But damn it, I felt pretty. So I’m sorry for embarrassing you but I’m not sorry for feeling pretty.” No, not word vomit. Completely and utter annihilation of any waning conviction you might’ve had.

By the time you’d caught your breath, Minho was standing with his hands crossed over his chest and eyes blinking blankly at you. He didn’t even so much as breathe loud enough for you to hear. Silence. Deafening silence.

“Say something,” you pleaded, voice cracking as your throat burned and eyes stung with pressing tears.

But Minho didn’t. Instead, he dropped his eyes down from your face towards your chest that was covered by his hoodie. In a blink, he was standing before you in the middle of your living room and was stripping the garment away. Hardly touching you, his hands spun you by the waist to turn around, gently peeling the straps off your shoulders and unzipping the dress. When it fell to the floor, he moved onto the stockings, taking hold of the waistband and ripping the flimsy material in half so it joined the pile at your feet.

You stood there quiet and self conscious. You knew he was looking at you, up and down, arms coming to cover your bare chest once again. The lacy black panties did extremely little to hide the remaining parts of you, your legs pressing together.

“You think,” Minho’s gentle voice whispered in your ear, “I'm disgusted by you?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak, only nodding and shutting your eyes tightly.

“Stupid baby,” tone of voice mockingly sweet, your skin raising goosebumps as he reached around to caress your forearms. The feeling of his shirt against your naked back made you tense up, but also fold at the heat of his body behind yours. “You were the most beautiful one in the room.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, slowly pulling your hands away from your chest to leave you entirely exposed. Your breathing became more labored as he let you go only to trail his fingers back up your arm towards your neck, tangling his fingers into your hair. You almost let your guard down at how kind he was being, shuddering when you felt his lips pressing at the junction of your shoulder. And in a split second, Minho tugged your head back by the roots of your hair and latched onto your neck with his teeth. It made you gasp and emit a broken groan.

You could do nothing but ball up your fists and arch your back into him, do nothing but take the harshness of his bruising teeth. The few seconds he’d take to lap his tongue over the raw skin would transmit into his grip in your hair by pulling tighter. His free hand came back between your legs, hooking his fingers under the thin strap covering your cunt and pulling hard. The arousal-soaked fabric rubbed at your clit, not nearly enough for pleasure but just enough for minor relief. There were so many things happening at once, your brain felt hazy and it was only getting cloudier. You didn’t realize you were rutting your hips into nothing but the tightened panties until he let go, moving to tug you by the hip flush against his. Ass slamming into his clothed erection, your brain screamed at you to stay still, stay still and maybe he’ll be nice.

No, you couldn’t. Adrenaline was coursing through your body and it took over your foggy, horny brain. You rubbed against his crotch, hoping to entice him into taking them off. But he didn’t, all Minho did was let you writhe in his grasp and tease yourself over his clothes. Then, raising his hand from your hip, it came back down and collided with your skin. Your back bent at an almost bone breaking angle. He did it again, and once more, slapping the same reaction out of you until you were gasping for air.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tie you up and punish you until you're begging me to stop.”

His breath was hot against your cheek, if you were just a bit more in your head you wouldn’t have caught that his chest was heaving as heavily as yours.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

Minho clicked his tongue, “not good enough, princess.”

Like on a leash he tugged you in the direction of your bedroom behind him, being thrown into the center of the bed and taking off your panties. Instantly, he stole the garment from you and dangled it from the tip of his finger. Minho loomed over you from the edge of the bed, tall and daunting. In a whisper, “are you sure you want this?” Following his eyes to the panties, you nodded shyly. “I need you to use your words, baby. I’m angry but I don’t want to hurt you… too much. So speak while I’m still letting you.”

Sitting up on your elbows and legs spreading, “I want this.” An unreadable smirk disguised as deviance and mischief crept upon his face.

“I won’t stop. You know the word.”

The word in question; catnip– because why else would you be thinking about catnip while he was torturing you unless it became too much? Or three taps onto him or any hard surface that could get his attention. Minho didn’t need to repeat the safeword aloud for you to know what he meant.

When you nodded, he walked around the side of the bed purposefully. He still towered over you as he reached down to caress your cheek, the only moment of saccharine he’d shown you since that morning before he left. And in a split second, the same hand wrapped around the back of your neck and your panties were being shoved into your mouth. The taste of your arousal was more of a turn on than you’d ever care to admit, but Minho knew you liked it. He knew your limits and had every intention of pushing you to the very brink.

Cunt still exposed, mouth full, you watched and waited as your boyfriend reached under the bed for his black box of goodies. He shook it in his hands, the rattling of toys only making your pussy clench in anticipation. Warmth shot through you as he dug around in it, eventually finding what he was looking for and tilting his head in your direction. “You’ve pushed it too far tonight, princess. Don’t these look too appealing?” The clinging of his favorite gadget made your eyes grow wide. Shiny silver handcuffs, not even lined because he enjoyed being able to reminisce.

Minho dangled them the same way he did your panties then unlocked them, setting the key onto the bedside table. Still fully clothed, he manhandled you onto your stomach and hiked your ass into the air. He was rough in the way he forced your head into the mattress and locked your arms behind your back. There was hardly any room for your wrists to move without the cuffs digging into your skin, only enough to not cut the circulation. Even though he explicitly said he wouldn’t go easy, it wasn’t until you tried to tug on the bondage did it really sink in how badly you’d fucked up tonight.

He’d left you in this compromising position for a split second and left the room, coming back with your dress in hand. You could see him over your shoulder toss it onto the lounge chair in the corner of the room that was perfectly placed in your line of vision. Wordlessly, Minho reached into the black box again, not allowing you to see what he pulled out. But you couldn’t take the silence anymore, attempting to speak but muffled by the panties in your mouth. With a sigh, he pulled the gag from your mouth for just a moment.

“Say what you wanna say. Last chance.” He peered at you with shadowed eyes, not entirely the same way he did in the dressing room but nowhere near your boyfriend’s usual kind demeanor. Stoic, stern, horny beyond belief but the need to prove a point much greater than the straining in his pants.

“Talk to me.” Your voice cracked, weary but prepared for whatever he had in store. Minho’s eyes softened for just a second. “Please. Talk to me.” He nodded just once before gently pushing the panties back into your mouth.

The buzzing sound of a vibration filled the tense room, your ass swaying in the air in response. It was completely involuntary, you were no stranger to those sounds. It made you clench around nothing again, cunt puffy and untouched and so desperate.

Without warning, Minho shoved the vibrator into your clit, dull thrum just enough to make your body jolt forward and push your face further into the sheets. Your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, the stimulation already proving to be more than you anticipated. In fact, it was hardly anything, Minho was hardly giving you anything and yet you were mewling like a cat in heat.

He stood on his knees behind you, caging your legs between his as he held the toy. “Close your legs, slut.” His voice was rough, condescending as he forced your legs shut with his own and entrapping the toy between them. The nickname made you shiver along with the added vibrations throughout your lower half. “If you let go, you won’t be cumming tonight.”

He wanted you to hold the vibrator between your legs, but it was already becoming more difficult to do, especially when he raised the speed by two. It was slightly more than a thrum now, making your muscles clench and body twitch. 

You moaned into the fabric, blinking away the painful and pleasurable tears. Minho moved towards the seat with your dress, turning his back to you and picking it up. “Why can’t you just listen to me? Why do you make me punish you?” The sound of his zipper opening and fumbling fabric stood out between your own lewd moans.

Neck and shoulders already aching, you tried to get a better look at him but as you moved the vibrator shifted. It pressed into your clit at a different angle, a better angle that had your body going stiff at the coil tightening in your gut.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare,” Minho ordered, slumping onto the chair. His cock was out, pants down his thighs and your dress in hand. “Keep looking at me, princess.” The vibrations started to feel stronger and not enough at the same thing, the constant stimulation leading you down a dangerous path.

“You’re always pretty– always so damn pretty it hurts.” You did your best to breathe and force your orgasm back, but your request for him to keep speaking made it hard. Slowly, his free hand came down to his dick, just holding it straight up and tightening his grip around the base. “Do you know how hard it is,” Minho reached down to his balls, “to watch you be so pretty and I can’t do a damn thing about it?”

Bringing your dress to his nose, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled and his eyes rolled closed. “And you smell so good. I bet that guy could smell you, too. I almost yelled across the room to get him to back up.” You watched as he stroked his cock slowly, up and down while your body spasmed in restrained pleasure. “I saw the way you blushed, princess. Did he compliment you? Is that where all that fake courage to talk back to me came from?”

The sudden surge of your high nearing made you whine louder, but fell upon deaf ears as Minho continued. “Yeah, that’s what it was. You’re a little praise slut. My praise slut. Do I not make you feel pretty, angel?” Fending off your orgasm and answering him was the hardest thing you’d faced so far, shaking your head and your muffled words turning into a whimper. “No, I treat you so well. The one time I ask you not to do something, you do it anyway. This fucking dress. You looked so gorgeous tonight.” You moaned louder, unable to stop the tears from seeping into the mattress as he started to twist his wrist faster.

If you weren’t gagged, Minho would’ve heard you begging like your life depended on it. With how intent he was at keeping eye contact, it very well could’ve. You struggled to keep your body up and the cuffs jingled every time you attempted to pull your wrist apart. Every time your orgasm passed, it rose quicker the next time around. You were stuck in a torturous state of give, give, give, deny. Repeat.

A grin washed across your boyfriend’s face as he watched your muscles tighten to fight the high. He was proud that you even lasted this long, and usually he would never tell you that, opting to show you. But he learned something new when your toes curled as he called you beautiful again. “Never gonna let you wear this fucking dress again,” his hand around his cock sped up, heaving in your lingering scent on the fabric.

Through gritted teeth and the taste of your arousal licked gone, you managed to coherently whimper, “please.”

A loud chuckle rumbled in Minho’s chest as he stood, taking the dress with him to stand at the side of the bed just out of reach– not that you could’ve touched him anyways.

“Asking so nicely after being a brat all fucking night.” The pace of his hand moved subconsciously at the same as your body writhed. “Will you be good? If I let you cum, will you be my good princess again?” You nodded furiously. He laughed, “yeah, you will. Because you’re mine. Your pretty little cunt is mine.”

You tugged at the cuffs harder, using all your strength to keep you from falling over while Minho thrusted into his hand, keeping your dress pressed to his nose. Another repressed orgasm faded and you had lost count of how many passed. You were humiliated, overstimulated, exhausted, sweaty, and touch deprived. To top it all off, your boyfriend was still making fun of you. And you couldn’t even hate it. You couldn’t be mad because it was exactly what you wanted despite feeling all those things.

His cock twitched in his hand, so close to release. Minho reached over and pulled the panties from your mouth, a string of spit following as he tossed it to the floor. Even with the new freedom, you didn’t speak, not wanting to disobey again.

Teeth biting into his bottom lip, Minho moaned, “tell me you love me.”

“I love you. L– love you more than anything.” It was as true as true can be, but it didn’t ease the now painful knot in your stomach tightening, already knowing you won’t be able to cut it loose.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours. I belong to you,” your voice was as shaky as the vibrator pressed to your raw bundle of nerves.

He seemed to like that answer, his hand tightening and focusing on the tip, swiping the precum with his thumb and spreading it around. “You belong to me,” Minho mimicked, “I own this dress. I own you. Only I get to ruin you like I’m going to ruin your slutty little dress.”

“Please, ruin me.”

The tears and drool made your face glossy, enough to push him over the edge, muttering the permission for you to cum just as he did. Minho took one step closer to you, holding the dress beneath his cock as his warm release shot onto your back. The raw crashing orgasm made your body burn white hot, vision go blank, and all your muscles lock. The vibrator dropped from between your legs, unable to take anymore. The second you relaxed, Minho used the key to free you from the cuffs. Every inch of your body was sensitive to the touch, even more when Minho used the dress to clean his cum off your skin. It made you shiver.

Minho fell to his knees as you toppled to the side, finally face to face. His cheeks were decorated with blush, eyes warm brown that were swimming with adoration. “Did so good, princess,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and brushing your sweaty hair from your face.

He knew not to touch you just yet, still too sensitive for anything other than a few kisses. While your body recovered, Minho stripped his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, tossing the soiled dress along with it. He gathered wet wipes, water, and icy-hot balm for your muscles. By the time he returned, you wanted nothing more than to hold him, eyes closed and still reaching out blindly for him.

“Min,” you dreamily called out, feeling his presence enter the bedroom again.

“I’m here,” he came over to your side again, placing everything on the nightstand and putting the toys to the side for cleaning later. You only groaned and reached out for him again, feeling his hand in your palm and attempted to pull him closer. “Hold on, baby. Let me wipe you down. It’s gonna be cold.” You didn’t even bother bracing yourself, knowing how warm your body ran that after the initial shock, it’d feel good. And you were right. The coolness of the wet wipe was soothing against your raw pussy, almost moaning again at the sensation. Minho laughed, finishing his duties and moving on to making you hydrate after a few minutes of you fighting him on just letting you sleep.

“One more thing. C’mon, you can do it.” His words of encouragement made you fold and let him maneuver you onto your back. You heard the icy-hot bottle open and close, then the bed dipping between your legs and his big hands gently taking hold of your thighs. The slick of the gel made his gliding palms smooth and the tingling feeling easing your tight muscles.

“You really make me feel like a princess,” you mumbled, half way towards sleep. Minho chuckled at your tired expression, bending over and pressing kisses to your stomach. As he finished his routine and climbed into bed next to you, you found the energy to speak again. “I’ll never wear the dress again. And I’m sorry.”

Arm curling over your torso, Minho pulled you closer, back against his chest. He hummed and peppered kisses over your shoulder and neck, “yeah, it’s kinda wrecked now anyways. I’m sorry, too.”

Sleepily giggling, you rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was comforting. Minho held you as gently as possible, but the lingering worry that he was still upset kept you awake. Through the haze, you prodded the subject.

“We’re good?”

“Oh angel,” he responded immediately, arm coming up to hold your head against his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair, “we’re always good.”

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @jiyascepter

Through The Years

Váli x Asta

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, suggestive smut/light smut, first time, virginity loss? some mutual pining? supportive Y/N and Loki!

Word Count: 7k (Whoopsies... 😅)

a/n: Just like the last chapter, was this chapter also a very important one for me. I really love the twin boys and to give them a partner meant a lot to me. And I love how different Váli and Áki are. 🤗

Thanks to @fictive-sl0th for the hook-up lines.

❄️Chapter Five ❄️ Epilogue ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Six - Váli Finding Love

It wasn't the first time he was watching. He always was. Since the day the Asgardian ambassador stepped through the doors of the palace - alongside his daughter. Váli knew - was very aware that this wasn't how a prince should act. Hiding behind the thick stone columns and trying to catch a few glimpses of the beautiful young woman with her long, black hair and breathtakingly blue eyes. And yet, he did it. Especially after his father had introduced them. An event, from which the memories stayed present in the forefront of his brain; doomed to never be erased or forgotten...

"Son, come in," the king spoke with a smile on his face. Váli had just accidentally bursted into the meeting his father had - unbeknownst to the prince. "Apologies, dad, I-I didn't mean to, uh, interrupt." He answered almost shyly; taking small steps closer. Loki met him halfway, placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't be. You couldn't know." and guided him through the big room the king called his study; until they reached the table - and the guests. "I want you to meet our guests, Váli." Loki started, and as if on command, the man and young woman stood up from where they sat. "Let me introduce to you… The Asgardian ambassador Sir Larsson." The elder man took a bow. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my prince," he said; giving Váli a smile. "And this young lady is Sir Larsson's daughter, Asta," Loki continued; gesturing to Asta. Váli's eyes fell on the ambassador's daughter - and he was immediately smitten.

Asta curtsied, "Your highness." and addressed him. Váli felt instantly how his hands got sweaty and his cheeks red. The prince wasn't used to talk to women. Unlike his brother, he wasn't a womanizer. Well, Áki was technically speaking a maneater - but the point still stood. "I-It's a, uh, pleasure to make y-your acquaintance, L-Lady Asta," Váli stammered out; internally cursing at how much of a fool he made out of himself.

That was the first time Váli was eye-to-eye with the beautiful, young lady - and he wasn't able to let go since. Whenever he saw her, it just sparked something within him... Interest. Not that Váli didn't have several love interests before, but the young prince was way too shy to make a move on them - and it was going to go the exact same way with Asta. That's what Váli feared. Hence, he was certain of it - if not a wonder was going to happen…

Once more, the prince lurked carefully around the column - but to his surprise, nobody was there anymore. Not the ambassador, not Asta, nor his father. He must've sunken so deep in thoughts, that he missed them leaving... He shrugged his shoulders; turned to leave - and almost crashed against another body. The prince's eyes widened to the size of plates, when his brain registered who exactly was standing right in front of him. "Hello, prince Váli." Asta.

"L-Lady A-Asta, h-hello, I-I..." He swallowed hard; knowing that he got literally caught in the act. "I-I, uh, it's not... Not what it looks like! I-I mean, yes, it is - but also not! I totally wasn't spying!" Váli stammered; trying to helplessly explain this situation. Asta raised an eyebrow, definitely confused. "I-I wanted to talk to my father, I... Excuse m-me." Before the situation could get even more unpleasant, Váli escaped and literally ran away.

After disappearing in the safety of his chambers, he pressed his back against the door; his head hitting the rich wood with a gentle thud. He had made a fool out of himself - like so often, when it came to talk to women, and especially Asta.

The days passed by, and Váli couldn't stop thinking about Asta - like usually. But whenever he saw her somewhere in the palace, he avoided her; too afraid of another collision. But he also didn't want to just 'give up on her', so the prince decided to do something he actually never wanted to do - but he saw no other way...

On the following day, he made his way to the royal training grounds. It was beautiful outside. The sun was shining and a soft breeze rustled the trees of Jotunheim. The perfect day for training. Váli wasn't there to train, though - but he knew who else was definitely there to train... And he was right. In the distance, he already saw him, currently lifting weights in the form of stones. To Váli's relief, nobody else seemed to be around, so he took his opportunity and approached his twin brother.

"Áki?" The warrior lifted his head at the call of his name; ruby eyes meeting Y/E/C ones. "Vál, hey. What are you doing here, huh? I highly doubt that you came here to train, do you?" Váli shook his head; coming to stand beside his bulkier twin. "No, I... Uh, I came here, because I need your help." Áki lifted a prettily heavy looking stone high up in the air, while eying his brother suspiciously. "My help?" "Yeah..." "And you need my help for...?" "I, uh, I..." "Vál... Stop beating about the bush and tell me what you need. We are brothers, for Odin's sake! No need to be ashamed." Váli sighed and ran a hand through his thick, blonde curls. "I, uh, need your help with..." "With?" "With a girl," he whispered, but Áki understood him anyways, and looked at his twin with wide eyes. "A girl?" "Yes, a girl." A small giggle escaped the warrior's lips, before he started to smile smugly; eyebrows waggling. "Oh.Ho.Ho! Look at that... My brother's got his eyes on a girl! Is it a wonder? Perhaps!" "Shut up." Váli grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. That was exactly the reason, why Váli didn't talk about such things with his brother... He'd only tease him to death.

Áki let the stone fall to the ground and hit Váli's arm in a brotherly way, but this gesture made him stumble forwards and almost caused him to kiss the sandy ground. "Oh, come on, Vál! You know I am only teasing you. Now... How can I help you?" Rubbing his arm, the prince turned to face the other prince again. "I... I need you to teach me how to flirt and, uh, gain her attention. Please? I-I mean you are maneater - kind of, and I am... just me, you know. And whatever you did, it worked with Sađi, so please... Help me?"

Áki blinked. "I already told you, I was going to help you, but wow... That sounds really desperate, brother. But don't fret! We are going to make this!" Áki announced, smiling and wrapped his arm around his shorter sibling. "Now, for starters, I need to know which lady we are talking about. Do I know her?" Váli nodded. "Y-Yes. It's Lady Asta." Once more the warrior's eyes widened. "The ambassador's daughter?!" He wolf-whistled. "She's a damn fine woman, brother. You have a good taste; I must give you that. If I were into women, I'd definitely cast an eye on her, too. Lucky for you, that I am not." The shy prince's cheeks reddened. "You, uh, think so?" Áki smiled. "Yes, I do! Now, let's see how you can impress her, eh?" Váli nodded; fumbling nervously with his fingers, while Áki tapped his chin in a thinking manner. "Why don't you ask her, if she wants to accompany you to the ball next week? You can talk, dance..." He started, then waggled his eyebrows again. "... kiss." "Áki!" "What?!" "It's not really appropriate to kiss in front of all those... people!" The warrior shrugged his shoulders. "It never bothered mom and dad, did it?" "Yes, but mom and dad are married!" Áki shook his head, chuckling. "You are so... uptight! Loosen up a bit!" "Can we stop bickering and start... working on my flirting skills, please?" "Ahh, yes! For sure!" The warrior positioned himself; standing a few feet away from his twin.

"Now, let's see... Pretend I'm Asta and you want me to notice you." Váli grimaced. "Really? Do we have to do that on such an embarrassing way?" Áki snorted. "You wanted me to help you, so... Come on! Show me what you got!" The young man sighed, but knew that his brother was right.

Taking a deep breath, he approached Áki - who immediately stopped him again. "No, no, no," he exclaimed; shaking his head. "What?" "Your walk. It's so... tense and stiff. It looks like you've got a stick up your ass. Again… Loosen up! You have to be more... relaxed!" Váli swallowed; but nodded. "O-Okay, okay... I'll try." The prince did try, but he wasn't very successful - let's put it that way. Perhaps the way he walked was better, but the flirting? Definitely not.

"Good evening, Lady Asta. You must be a magician. Because any time I look at you, everyone else disappears."

Áki grimaced, "That's the best you've got?" then shook his head. "No. Try again." Váli nodded obediently and took a few steps back, only to walk them forwards again.

"Good evening, Lady Asta," the prince repeated; even taking a bow. "Is it possible that you are a rose? Because I want to pick you."

The warrior cringed. "Norns, no. Váli that's awful. Where did you get those lines from, huh?" "I overheard a few of our people on the market." Áki let out a deep breath. "Well, seemingly those people don't know how to flirt... You need something with more... impact. You want to impress her. Not scare her off. Try again."

And again, Váli started another try. "Good evening, Lady Asta. I was wondering... If I were the king, and you were the queen, in the cosmic game of chess, would you mate with me?"

Áki's eyes widened. "Wait, what?! Bro, you're confusing me." Váli blinked. "W-Why?" Áki took a deep breath; trying to maintain his sanity. "Alright, alright... We need to get this straight... You do wish to court Asta, right? Or do you wish to bed her?" Váli's cheeks turned beet red at his brother's words. "What?!" He shrieked. "I-I firstly want her to know of my mere existence!" The warrior with the long, black hair blinked; was even more confused. "But I thought you met her already?" "Yes, but... Not the way I want to." "Norns, give me strength," whispered Áki; pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay. Your 'flirtations' won't work. I can see that already. I think we have to try something else. Just... ask me for a dance straight away." "Straight away??" "Straight away." "A-Alright."

Both princes took positions and Váli started another try; this time asking 'Asta' straight away.

"Greetings, Lady Asta. May I ask for your hand in the next dance?" Áki raised an eyebrow; smirking. "You're probably going to give that poor woman a heart attack with that, but it's definitely better than the first few tries. Try again."

After another few tries and advices from his brother, Váli was ready - according to Áki. Being now more self-confident, the prince looked forward to the ball.

Three days later, the big day had arrived. The kingdom was bustling with maids and servants; everybody helping to get the palace ready. It was one of the biggest balls, after all. Váli, though, didn't let the stress get to him. He tried to stay calm and keep his nervosity at bay. He was reading almost the whole day; hid in the little secret room of the library. It was his safe space after all. But unfortunately, time passed anyway, and so it was time for him to get ready in the early evening as well.

The prince took a bath and got dressed in the best Asgardian robes he owned. While his brother preferred the Jotunheim fashion more - like their father, Váli preferred more the clothes that the Æsir wore - like their mother.

When Váli made his way to the grand ball room of the palace in Jotunheim, the ball was already in full swing. A lot of guests from each and every realm had already arrived; were dancing, talking and eating. Music played and it smelled delicious. The prince looked around, to check if Lady Asta was here already. He saw everybody but her. His brother, who was leaning casually against one of the front columns; dressed in his warrior garments and shamelessly kissing Sađi - who seemed to have a break at the moment, given the fact that he wore his cooking attire. Yes, the young Jotun had made it and was now the second chef cook.

Váli smiled. Seeing his brother so happy, made him happy as well.

Then his gaze landed on the very top of the ball room, where a pedestal was. Upon that pedestal were two beautifully crafted thrones, made out of stone - and on those thrones sat his parents. Of course. They were the king and queen, after all. The prince decided - how it was adequate, to greet his mother and father. So, he made his way across the hall; always watching out for Asta.

At the feet of the pedestal were standing two guards - for protection, for sure. When they saw the crown prince approaching, they took a bow and let him pass without saying a word.

You had already seen your son coming your way and welcomed him with a bright smile. "Váli, my dear," you greeted him and rose from your throne to wrap him up in a hug. You frankly didn't care in that moment, if it was appropriate or not. "Hello, mom." He hugged you back and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Are you alright? I haven't seen you the whole day..." The prince could hear the worry, which was undoubtedly swinging within your voice. "Of course. Please do not worry. I just spent the whole day in the library, reading." You let go of him again, still smiling and sat back down on your throne. "I thought so." Váli gave you a smile as well and turned to the right.

"Dad." Loki - in all his Jotun glory, with the signature horns made out of ice on his head smiled and gave him a nod. "Son." It may have been a short conversation, but not less meaningful.

"Have you, uhm, seen Lady Asta? Is she and her father here already?" You exchanged a look with your husband. "No, son, I haven't, I'm sorry. What about you, love?" You shook your head. "No, me neither." It hadn't slipped your notice, that Váli's demeanour had shifted all of a sudden. He was fumbling with his fingers and his cheeks had become slightly red. He seemed nervous and a bit shaky. "But I'm sure they'll arrive soon. Why?" "Oh, uh, just asking, mom. I'll get myself a goblet of wine now. See you later." Before you could ask him more, Váli fled; clearly avoiding this conversation.

You watched him leave; almost hastily stumbling down the few steps, before he vanished in the crowd. Oh, you definitely knew what was going on here. Smirking, you reached over and felt for Loki's hand. After being married for such a long time, the king knew exactly what you wanted and took your hand; letting your fingers slip through his. "I think our other son is in love as well." "Mhm. He definitely is," answered Loki. "You saw it too?" Finally looking at you, he nodded. An amused smile was on his face. "Of course, my queen. And besides... Váli usually never drinks wine. It's quite rare for him to drink alcohol." You giggled, nodding as well. "I thought so, too. It's very sweet, though, don't you think?" "I agree, love. Asta is a fine lady. I'd happily take her as my daughter-in-law." "Me too."

A whole goblet of wine later, Váli finally saw Asta and her father. Swallowing hard, he knew that it was time to make his move. It was now - or probably never. On his way to her, he tried to remember what his brother taught him; mentally going through every sentence they practiced. Time was running out though, because suddenly he was standing in front of her. Asta had her back towards him; was currently standing beside some other ladies and watched the people dance - but nevertheless. Alone the sight of her back left the prince speechless; entranced by her beauty. She wore a dress. It was definitely made out of fine Asgardian fabrics. Long and coloured in a beautiful soft blue. Her normally long hair was made into a pinned-up hairstyle; leaving her shoulder blades bare. She was stunning.

Taking a very deep breath, the prince took his courage in both hands and approached her.

"L-Lady Asta?" His voice was slightly scratchy and husky - a sign of nervosity. The young Asgardian woman turned around immediately; curious and excited blue eyes meeting his Y/E/C ones. Her eyes widened slightly, as she registered who was standing in front of her. "Prince Váli!" She curtsied; lowering her head. "Good evening." Váli tried to smile; feeling his heart hammering against his chest. "Good evening, Milady." Remember your brother's words! Remember your brother's words! It echoed through his head. "Y-You, uh, you look quite a bit l-lonely." Oh great start, Lokison, great start! His mind sarcastically screamed at him and rolled its eyes. Asta frowned a bit; her eyebrows slanting softly. "I-If I may be so bold to say that!" The prince quickly added; almost shouting at her - before turning beet red. This wasn't going how he planned... "A-Apologies, I..." Ugh. Váli closed his eyes for a moment and took another breath, while Asta started to smile gently - unbeknownst to him. He is quite cute, isn't he? The ambassador's daughter thought; suppressing a light giggle. Thank the Norns he's just as bad as me, when it comes to conversations.

"This isn't how I planned this to go..." Váli spoke up again and reopened his eyes. "I... I actually just, uh, wanted to ask you if you'd like to dance with, uh, me?" He bowed to her and stretched out a shaky hand - like he's been taught. I made a fool out of myself, didn't I? His own voice echoed through his head once more; not thinking Lady Asta would accept his offer, but then...

Soft, smooth skin suddenly came into contact with his, as she placed her smaller hand into the prince's bigger one. Quite a bit surprised looked Váli up again. "I'd love to dance with you, prince Váli." He blinked. "R-Really?" A small, delicate laugh escaped Asta's lips; causing the prince's heart to flutter. "Yes." Not thinking he'd come that far, Váli was a bit lost at first, but then managed to somehow regain his composure and lead her towards the dance floor.

Taking a soft bow - like he was taught, Váli placed his hand on Asta's waist, while the other continued to hold her hand. The woman smiled; slightly blushing. Her hand landed on the prince's shoulder. Váli waited a short moment, before he started to lead Asta over the dance floor. Sure, he had danced with several ladies before, but this was different. He didn't dance with Asta because he had to... No, because he wanted to. It caused once again nervosity to swoop through his belly; afraid of failing to impressing her and make the wrong moves. It wasn't the prince, though, who had a bit of trouble dancing...

Asta was more nervous than it seemed. She was just really good at hiding it. Her father wanted her to take dance lessons as well when she was a teenager, exactly because of that reason. The problem was that it's been a while since such a handsome, sweet and kind man had asked her to dance and therefore she was struggling quite a bit. Of course, she could've denied the prince's request, but her heart spoke faster than her head did.

As hard as she tried to remember the steps and to focus, she couldn't prevent a few mistakes to happen. Stepping on Váli's feet for example...

"O-Oh! Apologies, my prince!" She scrambled; turning red. "I-It's been a while since I lastly danced. Please forgive my clumsiness." Váli just gave her a soft smile; his heart beating faster. They were in the same boat. "Please don't apologise, Lady Asta. I understand - and I must confess that I am not entirely sure of what I am doing either." His words made the ambassador's daughter giggle and both their nervosity to disappear. At least a bit.

They danced for a long time; having small conversations all the way. It seemed like they just clicked and at the end of the day, both of them felt that there was something between them - even if they didn't tell each other... But it was there.

Being now definitely in love, Váli made his way back to his royal chambers late at night; a happy skip in his step. Rounding the corner, he saw his brother leaning against the wall beside his door; a cheeky smile on his face. He had been definitely waiting for him. "Well, well... I see someone is quite happy." Váli smiled; though his cheeks turned red once more. "I am, Áki, I truly am. I think I never danced so much before on any other ball." His twin giggled, nodding. "I saw that, yes. Seems like my lessons were successful." "Successful?" Váli giggled almost deliriously. "Brother, they were lifesaving! Thank you so much! I owe you." Áki smiled and stepped closer to his twin; placing a hand on his shoulder. "The only thing you owe me is that you go and make that stunning lady yours."

And so it happened.

Whenever the ambassador came to Jotunheim with his daughter - which happened quite often, Váli and Asta spent time together. The prince showed her every nook and cranny of the palace - including the library and its secret hideout, of course. He took her out; picnicking, swimming, riding out and so on. It didn't take long for them to share their first kiss and soon they declared to be a couple. It took both of them a while, since they were a bit shy, but the ambassador, you, Loki and his brother for sure, were more than happy for the young couple.

"Where are you taking me, Váli?" Asta asked; giggling, as the prince led her to the Bifrost. Being on Asgard at the moment came in handy for the prince. "You'll see!" He answered, winking. "Now close your eyes and please don't open them before I say so. And no peeking!" Asta giggled, but nodded; then closed her eyes. "Alright."

The young woman felt the surroundings change around her. It became suddenly colder. A lot colder. "Váli, where-" "Shhh," he interrupted her; pressing a short, soft kiss to her lips. He guided her gently forwards and could feel something crunch underneath her feet. "You may open your eyes now." And Asta did, gasping.

Celebrating being a year together now, Váli had decided to take his lady somewhere special. Some place she didn't see every day. And the prince didn't even need to think long. He immediately remembered how stunned she was, when they were reading a book together about Midgard. About a place called 'Lapland', to be precisely. So, the prince took she there...

"Wow... Váli, that is..." Asta was at a loss of words; gazing dreamy into the snowy dreamland around her. "Stunning, right?" "Absolutely! Is it... Are we... Are we on Midgard?" Váli smiled; "Indeed. Welcome to Lapland." wrapping a thick coat - which his father had given him, around her. Not that she was going to be sick! The prince had no problem with the cold. Being half Frost Giant had its perks.

"Do you see that little cabin over there?" Asta followed Váli's gaze. "Yes, it looks cosy. What about it?" "That's where we're staying for the night." The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "We are going to stay there?!" "Mhm," Váli said; taking her hand, "Let's go!" and gently pulled her behind himself towards the cabin.

Said cabin was beautiful and super cosy. Made out of wood with big windows and a fireplace. It was in the middle of nowhere; surrounded by nothing but nature. Woods, snow and a frozen lake.

The couple spent the whole day in the snow; exploring, hiking and watching animals they had never seen before. Only in books.

When the night fell over Lapland, Asta and Váli got cosy in front of the big fireplace; gazing out of the big windows into the clear, starry night. Cuddling closer against the prince, Asta suddenly saw something blueish green flash over the sky. Her eyes widened. "Vál... Are those...?" Váli smiled; nodding, "Northern lights, yes." and pulled her closer against his chest. "Just like we read in that book..." Whispered the woman; stunned. After all, she had never seen such things before and neither had the prince - who was just as stunned. "Yes... I wanted to show you at all costs and then my dad had this idea and well... Here we are..." "That is wonderful. Thank you so much for this." Váli didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss on the woman's lips.

It was definitely a date to be remembered.

"So..." Áki placed both his hands on the wooden desk at which his brother sat; smirking. "How was this, um... How is it called again?" Váli looked up. "Lapland." "Lapland! My words..." The warrior's palm met his own forehead. "So, how was it?" "Good. Beautiful, actually. The Northern lights were exactly how the book described it. You should go, see it sometime." Váli got very excited as he spoke; being the bookworm he is. "Did you know, that Lapland-" But Áki interrupted him; wanting to have more... details. "Yes, that's great, but what happened?" He asked his twin, winking - causing Váli to just frown. "What do you mean?" "Well, did you... You know? Finally?" Váli blinked. "Oh, for norns sake, bro... You are way too innocent for this conversation, I see... Seems like I have to be clearer." Áki stated, clearing his throat. "Did you finally bed her?" The moment those words left the warrior's mouth, Váli's cheeks heated up. "N-No, w-we-" "No? Oh man... I guess I'll never understand that... How can you not bed the one you love? I slept with Sađi when we weren't even together." The other prince grimaced. "Yeah, ew, no, I don't want to hear that, brother. That's disgusting. Stop, please. I don't need to know how often you and Sađi... No, no, no. Besides, you are a whole lot different than me." Áki grinned. "That may be right, but may I remark, that you came to me for advice not so long ago?" Váli sighed and rested his face in his hands. "Yes, yes, yes, I know - and by now I regret it, because I'm never going to hear the end of this." Áki just chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry, bro... That's just how I am." "I know - and I love you nevertheless." Áki smiled; true, honest ruby eyes gazing at his twin. "And I love you, too." Váli stood up and reached over to place his hand on Áki's shoulder. Smiling, they looked at each other; sharing a moment. "Now if you'd excuse me..." The prince said and rounded the desk. "I have a date." "Have fun - and tell me about it, eh?" "Oh shut up, brother." Áki giggled, as Váli closed the door behind himself.

"Thank you for this, Vál." The both of them leaned against the pillows in front of the wooden wall; bellies full with food. "No. I have to thank you. You are the reason it is so wonderful." Asta shook her head; giggling. Her cheeks turning pink.

"I love you, Váli Lokison." Váli traced his thumb softly over her cheek. His eyes were filled with pure love and adoration. "And I love you." The young prince lowered his head; brushing his lips against Asta's in a sweet, innocent kiss. The kiss didn't stay innocent, though... The way their lips moved against each other seemed to ignite a fire within the young couple. They had found themselves often in heated make out sessions like that - but this time... This time it was different. It felt different. Perhaps was today the day, Váli thought; feeling the nervosity swirl in his belly. Perhaps not. I don't want to force her to anything...

Chills ran up and down Asta's spine; and yet felt her skin like it was on fire. She never felt this way before. At least not that intense. It was a whole new feeling for the quiet woman.

Váli pulled her gently closer towards him then; needing to feel more. Consume the love he felt for her. The black-haired beauty was so lost in Váli's kiss and the wondrous feeling inside of her, that she firstly didn't recognise in which position the prince brought them in… Suddenly, she was sitting on his lap, hands clasped around his neck. Váli's soft, gentle lips were still attached to hers, kissing her ferociously - but nevertheless with so much love, while his hands were on Asta's hips, holding her in place. She didn't think much about where this could lead or what was about to happen - until she felt Váli's hands leave the spot they so lovingly held onto. His hands travelled gently up and down her back at first; causing another shiver to run down her spine. It wasn't an unusual move of him. Váli did it often. But what came next, was definitely an unusual, unfamiliar move. The young man's hands wandered lower, until they reached the hem of her summer dress. Before Asta's besotted brain registered, what was happening, had his palms already found their way to her bare calves.

It never went that far. Váli never did that before. Never. The young woman's eyes flew open at this unexpected, intimate move of her boyfriend, and the sudden skin on skin contact. It caused a soft squeak to escape her parted lips.

As sudden as she felt his cool touch on her hot skin, as sudden was it gone again. Váli pulled his hands away quickly; eyes filled with guilt and remorse. "A-Apologies, A-Asta!" He started to scramble for an explanation. "I-I didn't mean to do that! I-I got carried away! I-I should've-"

"Don't stop."

She spoke up suddenly, quietly - yes, almost shyly; interrupting him. The young woman felt how the blood rushed into her cheeks; colouring them in a soft red. Váli knitted his eyebrows in confusion; a short, loose curl of blonde hair falling into his face. "W-What?"

The moment of Váli's skin touching Asta's had sent a sparkling sensation through her whole body. It was strange and overwhelming - but also felt so good. So comfortable. So... intimate. She wanted to feel it again. She wanted to find out what would happen, if the prince didn't take his hands away. If he didn't stop.

"Don't stop," she whispered again; gathering all her courage to slip her fingers through Váli's - placing his palms back on her bare calves. As soon as his skin touched hers again, she felt another sparkling sensation rippling through her. This time, though, the young woman couldn't suppress the small, soft gasp, which left her lips at the contact.

The prince was at first completely perplex; not knowing what to do or how to react. But once he realised that she really wanted him to touch her like that, he started to rub slow circles in her ivory skin, using his thumbs. Her hands found their way around his neck again - just like her lips found their way back on his lips.

It didn't take long for Váli's hands to go on another journey. His fingertips danced over the skin of Asta's legs; wandering up higher and higher, and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. His cool touch felt amazing against her heated flesh. Like a trillion snowflakes melted on her skin. Within a heartbeat, the make out session had turned more passionate... More intimate. Every touch; every kiss was like pouring oil into an open fire, and by the time Váli's hands had reached the underside of his girlfriend's thighs, they both knew that this could go way further than they had ever been. This realisation caused the young woman's violently thumping heart to skip a beat. Her whole body was buzzing with anticipation of what was perhaps to come - and she couldn't deny it... She wanted it. Wanted him. She wanted to drown herself in the love and pleasure only Váli would be ever able to give her. So, she followed that raging need inside her body and started to loosen the leather belt, which held his beige tunic in place. Her rather bold move caused the prince to freeze in all his movements. With a soft pop he freed his lips from hers and removed his hands from her thighs - in order to wrap them around her wrists, stopping her. Asta's eyes snapped up; locking her gaze with his.

Another gasp escaped her lips at how close she and Váli actually were - and the intensity his Y/E/C held. "A-Asta, I... We..." He stammered; voice cracking. "A-Are you aware of what you're d-doing?" The woman in his arms nodded. "More than aware, my prince." Váli swallowed - visibly. "D-Do you... Do you really want this? Me? A-Are you certain a-about crossing that line?" Asta just stared at him; eyes wandering from his beautiful orbs down to his kiss swollen, alluring lips and back. She didn't need to think about this. Her heart - and especially her body had decided on this a long time ago. She wanted to feel Váli as close as physically possible. He was all she ever wanted. He was the one. She trusted him with her life. Blindly. Undoubtedly.

She nodded. "I never wanted anything more in my life," Asta spoke in a hushed voice; staring deep into his eyes. "Please," she added, as Váli still hesitated; unsure if he should really indulge into this. "Touch me," she whispered rather sinfully in his ear then - which caused the young prince's insecurities to shatter. He let go of her wrists and cupped her cheeks instead. With his eyes filled with love, he started to kiss her again. Gently and lovingly, but also intimately and passionately. It was so sweet and intoxicating, it made her head spin; hands going slack against Váli's lower belly.

His hands found their way back to her hips then; glided slowly up to the zipper of her dress, sensually unzipping it. He slowly peeled the straps of the beautiful dress down her shoulders and arms; letting it fall to her waist. Asta started to shiver slightly, when the cool air hit her skin. Váli only intensified it, when his fingertips traced her almost completely bare back.

Once his hands returned from exploring every inch of her back, they came to rest on the clasp of her white lace bra. "May I?" He asked, being utterly gentle and polite. His father thought him well.

Once more Asta nodded; already unable to form any words. Váli tried to undo the clasp as casually as possible, but found himself struggling quite a bit. After all, the prince never did this before, so how could he know? While his cheeks started to redden in embarrassment, his girlfriend only giggled sweetly, before reaching her hands up to cup his. "Here, let me help you." With united forces, the clasp was undone with one quick move.

Asta's bra fell; leaving her upper body exposed. But to her slight surprise, Váli's eyes didn't drop. They stayed trained on her face. Instead, he leaned in to kiss her again; hands splayed across her back, before he pushed her slowly backwards; gently laying her on her back. Váli was hovering directly above her now, his face mere inches away from hers. So close, thar she could feel his hot breath on her skin.

One of Váli's hands started to gently tug at the remaining clothes covering Asta's body. His eyes spoke more than words ever could. He made sure that what he was doing is alright for her. It caused the young woman to fall even deeper in love with the prince.

She lifted her hips; signalling him to go on. Váli grabbed the fabrics and pulled them down her legs, leaving her now completely exposed to him. The prince sat back on his heels; eyes settling on her body. Out of instinct, Asta covered myself; shielding herself from his sinful eyes. No one had laid eyes upon her naked body... until now. It was the first time she was completely nude in front of anybody... In front of a man. It caused her to be even more nervous and very insecure all of a sudden.

Váli started to shake his head. "No... No..." He rasped; his eyes incredibly soft. They were seeping over with love. His hands reached for her wrists again. "Don't cover yourself, Asta..." He tried gently to pull her arms away. "Please," Váli whispered. "You are so beautiful." The prince sounded so intrigued and honest, it made her give in - and she let him pull her arms away. Váli's fingers slipped through hers, as his eyes raked up and down her body; lips softly parted. "Absolutely gorgeous..." He gasped and let immediately go of her hands again, to capture her lips with his, before he started to breathe gentle kisses all over her neck. It gave Asta back her courage.

She lifted her hands to work at the belt of his tunic once again; freeing his upper body from the fabric. Finally, she was able to feel his skin underneath her fingertips. Curiously, she let her hands wander over the ivory skin of his shoulders, back and chest.

Unlike his brother, Váli hadn't much muscles to brag with. His frame was rather lean. No bulging pecs or rippling abs. But to Asta, he was absolutely gorgeous. Perfect.

Váli moved lower, peppered her whole upper body with gentle kisses; leaving a burning, sizzling sensation behind. It was electrifying. Asta was floating somewhere high above the clouds. But then the rustling of fabric caught her attention... She looked up to see how Váli got rid of the last remaining clothing, which covered his body. In the blink of an eye, he was naked as well - and now hovering above her again. That went now a bit too fast for the young woman. She felt how the anxiety and nervousness took over her system. Her eyes widened; legs starting to shake. Asta quickly brought her palms up to press them against his chest. "V-Vál s-stop. Wait, p-please." Váli stopped immediately in his movements, literally froze in place. The emotion in his eyes changed. His Y/E/C orbs were now clouded with worry.

She took a deep breath; felt how the feeling of embarrassment bubbled up inside her body. And once again, the blood rushed to her cheeks. "I-I never did that before... I-I..." Váli's eyes softened upon hearing those words leaving her lips. He started to shake his head; a smile spreading across his face. To Asta, he almost seemed... relieved? "Thank the norns..." He breathed; causing her to look at him quite a bit confused. Váli noticed that, of course and started to chuckle. "Don't worry, Asta…" He spoke softly and leaned down to brush his lips across her ear. "I never did that before either."

His words send a wave of pure relief and calmness over the young woman, but it also surprised her a bit. "Really?" She squeaked up; staring with big eyes at him. Váli bit his lip - and nodded. "Yes, really." Her mouth fell softly agape; completely in awe. Honestly, she didn't quite understand this. "But... How, Vàl? I bet there were are a lot of girls who laid their eyes upon you..." The prince breathed out another soft laugh and shook his head again. "It is a valid question, but… I thought you might have noticed this already, but... I'm a very shy boy." She giggled at her boyfriend's words. It was undoubtedly true. "Besides, if there were other girls, they all would have the same catch..." That awakened Asta's curiosity. "Which is?" Váli's smile widened. He reached out to tug a loose, long black strand behind her ear. "They would never be you, beautiful." Asta's heart skipped another beat. "You will always be the one. My heart belongs to you since the first time we met." Her heart fluttered; the butterflies swirling like crazy inside her belly. She felt how tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. "Oh Vál, I..." She wrapped her arms around Váli's neck and pulled his naked body flush against hers. "You are always the one for me, too," she said with a shaky voice and held onto the prince for dear life, completely overwhelmed by her feelings.

The both of them just basked in each other's embrace for a few moments, before Váli straightened himself up again, so that he was able to look into Asta's eyes. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Are you afraid?" She swallowed. "A bit, maybe." He nodded. "Do you trust me?" Now she nodded. "With my life." Váli smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I promise you, that I will be gentle. Please stop me, if you need to, yes?" "Yes." He smiled even wider; his eyes filled with love. "Hold on to me," Váli whispered and kissed her again, before they dove together for the first time into the deepest abysses of pleasure; making sweet, sweet love.

After the bliss had faded away, Asta was laying in Váli's arms; cuddled against his chest. A toothy - almost delirious smile displayed on her face. One hand of the prince rested upon her back; tracing gently random patterns on the skin there, while the other hand was in her hair, softly massaging her scalp. Asta was completely relaxed. Her eyes closed; bathing in the aftercare Váli was offering her. She never wanted it to stop.

The prince leaned down and pressed his lips on her forehead. "Mmmh," Asta hummed; already on the verge of dozing off. He chuckled softly. "Are you still with me?" "Mhm," she answered; more asleep than awake and pressed a lazy kiss against his chest. Again, Váli chuckled. "Well, it doesn't quite seem like it." "'M sorry, Vál." He quickly shook his head. "No, please... Don't be. It's alright. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up again." And he was.

Tags: @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @icytrickster17 @chennqingg @glitchquake @princess-ofthe-pages @crimson25 @elegantcheesecakecrown @buttercupcookies-blog @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @herdetectivetheorist @loz-3 @brokenpoetliz @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @lovingchoices14 @salvinaa @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @xxannyxx @kimanne723 @mandywholock1980 @loki-laufeyson223 @vbecker10

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

main masterlist | series masterlist

A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too. 

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face. 

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered.  Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day. 

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then. 

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.” 

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment. 

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror. 

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at. 

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat.  He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS. 

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions. 

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it. 

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE 

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.” 

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road. 

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates. 

He said his name when he was asked.  And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

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[thepastisalreadywritten]

12 June 2024

Wreck hunters have found the ship on which the famous polar explorer Ernest Shackleton made his final voyage.

The vessel, called "Quest," has been located on the seafloor off the coast of Newfoundland, Canada.

Shackleton suffered a fatal heart attack on board on 5 January 1922 while trying to reach the Antarctic.

And although Quest continued in service until it sank in 1962, the earlier link with the explorer gives it great historic significance.

The British-Irish adventurer is celebrated for his exploits in Antarctica at a time when very few people had visited the frozen wilderness.

"His final voyage kind of ended that Heroic Age of Exploration, of polar exploration, certainly in the south," said renowned shipwreck hunter David Mearns, who directed the successful search operation.

"Afterwards, it was what you would call the scientific age. In the pantheon of polar ships, Quest is definitely an icon," he told BBC News.

The remains of the ship, a 38m-long schooner-rigged steamship, were discovered at the bottom of the Labrador Sea on Sunday by a team led by The Royal Canadian Geographical Society (RCGS).

Sonar equipment found it in 390m (1,280ft) of water. The wreck is sitting almost upright on a seafloor that has been scoured at some point in the past by the passing of icebergs.

The main mast is broken and hanging over the port side, but otherwise, the ship appears to be broadly intact.

Quest was being used by Norwegian sealers in its last days. Its sinking was caused by thick sea-ice, which pierced the hull and sent it to the deep.

The irony, of course, is this was the exact same damage inflicted on Shackleton's Endurance - the ship he used on his ill-fated Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914–1917.

Fortunately, the crews of both Endurance, in 1915, and Quest, in 1962, survived.

Indeed, many of the men who escaped the Endurance sinking signed up for Shackleton's last polar mission in 1921-1922, using Quest.

His original plan had been to explore the Arctic, north of Alaska, but when the Canadian government withdrew financial support, the expedition headed south in Quest to the Antarctic.

The new goal was to map Antarctic islands, collect specimens and look for places to install infrastructure, such as weather stations.

Shackleton never made it, however, struck down by heart failure in the Port of Grytviken on the British Overseas Territory of South Georgia, the last stop before reaching the White Continent. He was just 47 years old.

After his death, Quest was involved in other important expeditions, including the 1930-31 British Arctic Air Route Expedition led by British explorer Gino Watkins, who himself tragically died aged 25 while exploring Greenland.

Quest was also employed in Arctic rescues and served in the Royal Canadian Navy during WWII, before being turned over to the sealers.

The RCGS team members carried out extensive research to find Quest's last resting place.

Information was gathered from ship's logs, navigation records, photographs, and documents from the inquiry into her loss.

The calculated sinking location in the Labrador Sea was pretty much spot on, although the exact co-ordinates are being held back for the time being.

A second visit to the wreck, possibly later this year, will do a more complete investigation.

"Right now, we don't intend to touch the wreck. It actually lies in an already protected area for wildlife, so nobody should be touching it," associate search director Antoine Normandin said.

"But we do hope to go back and photograph it with a remotely operated vehicle, to really understand its state."

Alexandra Shackleton is the explorer's granddaughter and was patron to the RCGS survey.

"I was thrilled, really excited to hear the news; I have relief and happiness and a huge admiration for the members of the team," she told BBC News.

"For me, this represents the last discovery in the Shackleton story. It completes the circle."

The explorer continues to spark interest more than a century after his death.

Hundreds of people visit his grave on South Georgia every year to pay their respects to the man known by his crews simply as "The Boss."

"Shackleton will live forever as one of the greatest explorers of all time, not just because of what he achieved in exploration but for the way he did it, and the way he looked after his men," said David Mearns.

"His story is timeless and will be told again and again; and I'm just one of many disciples who'll keep telling it for as long as I can."

—

Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton CVO OBE FRGS FRSGS (15 February 1874 – 5 January 1922) was an Anglo-Irish Antarctic explorer who led three British expeditions to the Antarctic.

He was one of the principal figures of the period known as the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration.

[l8rs-gat0rs]

You got some time?

Pairing: Carol Danvers x AFAB Spider person!reader

Warning(s): smut ;) , flirty Carol, reader is also kinda a flirt, CAPTAIN KIIIINK, Carol using her powers in you in you, degradation, moderate fluff, Dom Carol is a warning itself.

Summary: The Captain's got some free time on her hands and so do you, you decide to have a night out because superheroes don't get many of those. As the night goes on, Carol decides time isn't the only thing she wants her hands on and you have the exact same idea.

Word count: 3.4k

I know, I know, I have requests to finish but my brain would not let me write them until I finished this one. I will get to the requests soon! I swear😔

Happy kinktober btw!!!! One of the best times of the year if I do say so myself😌 I obviously didn't participate in all 30 days bc I've tried in previous years, and it did not work out Haha, but here's at least one fic for Kinktober before it ends!

Side note for story purposes: I know a lot of people have their own spider personas with suits they made for them, which might I add, I've loved looking at all the artwork of! Buuuut, just so one or two of the scenes make sense, the reader's mask is kinda like Jessica drew's. The one in the comics, not across the spider verse just so we're clear. Like, the nose, mouth, and chin are open and the reader's hair is out from the top.

~~~~18+ MINORS DNI~~~~

You swung through the streets of Queens, smiling as you saw people point at you excitedly.

You were doing your evening rounds and all was looking quiet, thankfully.

You swung onto a rooftop and landed gracefully.

You had to say, you loved New York City. You grew up with the sounds of cars honking all night outside your window, you found it to be charming rather than annoying.

On top of all the warm memories and friends you made in the city, one of your favorite things in the world, nothing could beat the view of the sun setting behind all the buildings and skyscrapers from a rooftop.

"It never gets old does it?" You heard a woman's voice behind you.

You turned around as she landed, recognizing her voice.

"Carol" You smiled.

"Hey spider girl." She smiled at you, using one of your titles endearingly.

"Captain." You said right back.

If you weren't staring at her so intensely, you wouldn't have caught the slight falter in her confidence as she looked away, clearing her throat before looking back at you.

However, before you could comment on it she locked eyes with you once more and spoke.

"I'm kind of jealous you've had this view all your life." She spoke quietly, moving to stand next to you and gaze over the view you had previously been looking at.

You turned around and smiled.

"Yeah, well I bet nothing beats space." You smirked and nudged her with your elbow.

She chuckled, turning back to look at you.

"It's not all that, lots of emptiness and darkness if I'm being honest, and I miss the people."

She turned back to the sunset before continuing.

"I like this much better." She sighed.

The sun shone a beautiful golden light onto her face. As the wind blew through her hair, the sun made it shine even more golden than it already was.

"Yeah, me too." You said softly.

She turned to you and smiled, a faint blush reaching her cheeks as she realized what you meant.

"Ew you’re so cliché," she punched your arm lightly, causing you to laugh.

"So everything clear on your front?" She asked, turning to you.

"Yup, just finished my evening rounds. There's no sign of any supervillains, and I left a guy webbed to a pole for the cops. Surprisingly quiet other than that." You shrugged.

She chuckled causing you to smile at the sound.

"Well, it's all quiet on my end as well, sooooo...." She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"Soooo?" You responded curiously.

"Come on! We finally both have some free time, let's do something together!" She exclaimed.

It was true, you usually didn't have free time, and when you did, Carol wasn't free.

After thinking about it for a minute, you agreed.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" You smiled, causing her to jump in the air and clap.

"How abouuuut, we watch a movie?" She pitched after calming down.

"Hmm okay, what kind of movie?" You asked absentmindedly walking up the side of the water tower that was on the roof.

Carol lifted her head to watch you as she mused.

"What about a rom-com?" She asked with faux innocence.

You stopped in your tracks as you stood upside down from under the water tower.

You attached a web to the underside and slowly descended, still upside down, till you were in front of Carol, her eyes following you the whole way down.

"A rom-com you say?" You smirked.

"Yeah, why not?" She shrugged.

"What's with the smirk?"

"Nothing, nothing....So is this like...a date?" You swung lightly, your hair swaying with you.

"So rom-com equals date to you?" She smirked.

"No, but you specifically asking me to watch a rom-com with just you, feels like a date."

"Okay, then what if it was a date?" She shrugged.

"Then I wouldn't be mad" You smiled, still hanging upside down, but stopping your swaying.

"Then it's a date." She said, moving closer to you, while watching your lips.

"Isn't this a bit cliché?" You whispered with a playful smile, referencing her earlier comment.

"What, you want me to be upside down too?" She joked.

You laughed before stealthily turning yourself upright and landing on the floor, letting go of your web.

"I mean we haven't even been on the date yet, Danvers." You chuckled.

"Fair enough, I can wait." She said coolly.

"Who said I was kissing you at all tonight?" You shot back.

"I just have a feeling," she smirked before turning to walk away from the water tower.

You followed her, smiling at her confidence.

"You look good in the mask by the way." She added, not turning around.

Your face felt hot at her unexpected compliment.

"Th-Thanks" You cursed yourself for stuttering.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at your response.

"No problem, so, I'll meet you at the theater on 37th avenue?" She asked, turning around to face you and slowly walking backwards.

"Yeah, sure." You confirmed.

"I'm gonna wear something nice tonight." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wow, the great Captain Marvel dressing up all for me!?" You gasped, over-exaggerating your reaction with your hand over your chest.

She stopped walking backwards.

"Not for you, it's just been a while since I dressed up." She rolled her eyes.

"Come onnnn, admit it! It's mostly for me." You smirked and crossed your arms as you finally stood in front of her.

"Well I'll admit one thing, you're special." She winked.

You felt your chest swell with warmth and you smiled like an idiot.

"Alright then, I'll dress up a bit too." You thought about what to wear.

"Oh? That sounds promising." Carol smirked before you saw her body start to glow with energy.

"See you soon?" She asked with a raised brow and she started to lift off the ground.

"See you soon, captain." You smiled and saluted her.

She smirked before flying off the opposite way of you.

"What. A. Woman." You sighed aloud to yourself with your hands on your hips before swinging towards your house.

When you get home you fretted over what to wear.

You didn't wanna go overboard, but it was a date, Carol also said she was dressing up...

You settled with a red button up, the first 2 buttons unbuttoned, tucked into black jeans with suspenders, topping it off with your favorite black chuck Taylors.

"Wow I look so gay." You chuckled to yourself.

You stepped outside your house and put your portable suit that Tony gave you in your pocket.

You didn't like wearing it that much, preferring the suit you designed yourself, but hey, when duty calls....

You got into the Uber you had ordered and gave the driver the address of the theater.

When you got there, you saw Carol already waiting outside, and boy did your jaw drop.

She was wearing a suit with a bow tie, her hair was in waves, and she topped it all off with shiny black dress shoes.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled when she saw you get out of the car.

"Jesus Christ Carol, I thought I was gonna be overdressed." You gaped at her.

She looked at you with a smirk.

"You look extremely good, trust me"

"And you look like you're going to a movie premier." You laughed.

"Hey, like I said, I don't get to dress up often. This was just hanging in my closet collecting dust." She gestured to her suit.

"Well in any case, you look absolutely stunning, Carol." You smiled at her, barely managing to keep your jaw shut as you glanced over her once again.

"Thank you, you as well. That outfit really...suits...you" She winked, giving you a nudge.

You rolled your eyes at her pun referring to her own outfit.

"God, you are so corny." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Come on, you loved it." She laughed.

You cracked a smile.

"Okay yeah, it was cute." You laughed along with her.

"Oh, so you think I'm cute?" She smirked.

"Oh shut up! Lets just go buy the movie tickets before all the good seats are taken." Your face heated up, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the theater as she laughed, letting you drag her.

The two of you bought tickets to a rom-com that was currently playing in theaters.

People stared at the two of you, or maybe just Carol, but nobody had the guts to come up to either of you when they saw her hand around your waist.

You made your way into the theater with minimal distractions, the only one being a little girl saying hello to Carol and high fiving her.

You had smiled fondly at the cute interaction.

"I'm actually excited, I wanted to see this movie if I'm being honest." You explained excitedly.

"Well then, I'm glad we came." Carol said as you made your way to your seats.

The two of you had come in a bit late so the lights were dim and the trailers were playing.

When you sat down Carol immediately held your hand, causing heat to slap your face as you looked at your intertwined hands.

She smiled at you as you looked up to meet her eyes, which were already watching you.

"You're adorable you know?" Carol confessed to you in a hushed whisper.

"I could say the same thing about you." You smiled.

She smiled back, but before she could say anything else, the theater went dark and the movie began to play.

"Oh shit it's starting!" You whispered excitedly, moving your attention to the screen.

The two of you watched the movie mostly in silence, occasionally, you would feel Carol's thumb lightly brushing your hand, or you would make an energetic comment about whatever was happening in the movie.

You were secretly a movie buff, and Carol thoroughly enjoyed getting to see that side of you revealed.

When the movie ended, you filed out of the theater along with everyone else and it was dark outside.

You looked up at the moon, shining brightly through the clouds.

"We should do this more often." Carol broke the silence, bringing your attention back to her.

"What, go on dates?" You chuckled.

"I mean of course, but also, Just you and me, hanging out, no pressure, no crazy aliens coming after us, no big fights, or catching criminals. Just, having a good time. It's nice." She smiled.

Your heart warmed at the sincerity In her voice.

"Yeah, I'd like that too Carol." You grinned at her, stopping in your tracks and putting your hands in your pockets.

"And... I'd even go as far as to say I like you." You said softly as you smiled at the ground.

You looked back up at Carol and she had the biggest grin on her face and her cheeks were flushed.

You laughed loudly at her silent reaction.

"What?"

"I like you too." She simply said.

"I like you a lot." She moved closer toward you causing your heart to flutter.

"So what do you suppose we do about it, I mean, now that it's out in the air and all that." You nonchalantly waved your hands in the air.

She chuckled as she walked towards you until she had you backed up into an alleyway you hadn't even noticed you were by.

Before you could get a word out, she grabbed you by the arm and pushed up against the wall, kissing you passionately.

You practically melted into the kiss.

"Oh, I've been dreaming about that." Carol said breathlessly as she pulled away lightly.

You didn't say anything for a moment, your brain still processing what had just happened.

"Wanna come over?" You asked her quickly just as she was about to speak up.

She cocked and eyebrow and smirked.

"I'm down."

You practically dragged her down the street before hailing a taxi that was parked on the side of the road.

"Are you working?" You asked the driver through the window.

He nodded and you got in the car, Carol getting in after you.

"Someone's in a hurry." Carol smirked, putting her hand on your upper thigh.

Your head shot down to look at her hand as you saw it glow with energy, you felt it warm your skin through your jeans.

You looked at her, biting your lip to hold in a groan.

As soon as the Taxi stopped outside your apartment, you thanked the driver and got out of the car.

You walked to your apartment holding Carol's hand the whole time.

You pressed the elevator button and got in, thankfully no one else was in there.

There was a charged silence between the two of you as you watched the numbers on the elevator until Carol broke it.

"You want me to fuck you? Hard or soft? Fast or slow?" Carol said with a confident smirk.

Your eyes widened as you looked at her and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Danvers." You grabbed her and smashed your lips against hers, moaning lightly.

You felt her smile against your lips before you heard the ding of the elevator, causing the two of you to quickly separate.

You speed walk to your door, ripping your keys out of your pocket, almost dropping your Stark spider suit before you shoved it into the keyhole and turned it, unlocking your door.

Carol pushes you inside and slams your back into the door to close it.

You let out a gasp as the motion winds you and Carol has an open lusty smile as her lips barely touch yours and she reaches next to you to lock the door.

After locking the door, Carol makes quick work of untucking and unbuttoning your shirt, feeling up your body.

She lets out a little excited sound as she watches you react to her touch.

"I know it was only our first date and kiss today but, I would like your permission to absolutely ruin you tonight." Carol asks, looking into your dazed eyes.

You nod without hesitation.

"Do anything you want to me, Captain." You groan.

You watch as her eyes get wild and a lustful expression graces her face.

Carol attaches her lips to your neck and immediately starts marking you. You feel her moan against your skin as she sucks on it.

Your moans fill the space of your apartment even more as she squeezes your chest underneath the sports bra while she works on your neck.

Once she is satisfied with her work, she plays with your hardened nipples as she whispers hotly into your neck, her warm breath contrarily leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"You're so pretty like this baby." She moves her thigh in between yours and pushes you down onto it.

You gasp out as you start moving your hips against her muscular thigh.

"Mmm that's it, just like that baby."

You watch as she pulls back and holds you up against the wall as she watches your hips working her thigh with her mouth hanging open.

You slip your hand into her pants and she lets out a moan when you start rubbing tight circles on her clit.

Carol closes her eyes in pleasure and moans loudly as you slip your fingers into her already soaking wet core, moving your hips fast against her thigh as she jerks her hips against your fingers.

Before the two of you get too lost in the pleasure Carol halts her movements, as well as yours. Before you open your mouth to protest, she looks you in the eyes and you see that they've darkened, her pupils blown out.

"As much as I'd like both of us to cum right here, right now, we should take this to the bedroom." She chuckles breathily as she pants.

"Mmmm, a modest lady huh?" You smirk as she helps you stand up straight again before you lead her to your bedroom.

"Hey, it's our first time, I want it to be amazing." She holds your hand.

You look at her and smile as you lead her into your bedroom, your heart feeling warm from her revelation.

"Me too," you nod.

"But I also need you to fuck me like... really bad." You add.

"I can absolutely do that " Carol smirks as both of you start to remove your shirts.

"Tell me how bad you want it." Carol whispered in your ear.

"Fuck, I want it so bad..." You groaned, your forehead falling against her neck as you breathed heavily.

Carol pushed you till the back of your knees hit the bed and you sat down, looking up at her.

"Fuck, those eyes... tell me princess, you want my fingers in you?" She asked, cocking her head as she slowly got down on her knees in front of you.

"God yes, I want your fingers-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Carol had pulled your pants down and moved your underwear to the side, shoving two of her long fingers into you.

You gasped, your mouth hanging open while you stared at her with furrowed brows.

"I already knew the answer." She smirked.

"God, could you just shut up and-"

She pushed her fingers in deeper, all the way to her knuckles and you let out a choked moan.

"hmm? What was that baby?" She held her smirk, still standing on her knees.

You laid down, your back hitting the bed roughly as you slid down a little, pushing your core closer to her.

"F-fuck you.." You gasped as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them all the way back in, reveling in the wet sounds.

"Shit, I could listen to your pretty pussy all day. You'd like that wouldn't you? Me fucking you all day?" She cooed.

You nodded aggressively, panting as the pace of her fingers started to quicken.

"Yeah? Oh I know, you love being fingered like a slut huh?" Carol started to pant.

You don't know what came over you but you moaned loudly,

"C-captain!"

Carol's eyes went wild and you felt warmth and a little buzz inside you.

You gasped out,

"Holy fuck!!" Your legs felt like they were going numb.

"Call me that again." She growled lowly, the pace of her fingers quickening.

You looked down at her and saw her hand glowing, before letting your head fall back and arching your back.

"Captain, fuck... don't stop." You moaned loudly.

"That's right, let your captain know how good she's making you feel. I can feel your slutty pussy practically sucking my fingers in." She moaned.

And she was right, you could feel yourself clenching around her fingers tightly as you rapidly approached your high.

"Yeah, oh god, I'm- you're gonna make me cum, Captain... Please... It feels so good, you make me feel so good...Please make me cum." You moaned in between pants.

"As you wish, princess." She smirked, her fingers combined with the warmth of her inside you sending you over the edge.

Carol continued thrusting her fingers deep inside you, watching your face as you writhed in pleasure, your back arching off the sheets once again as you grabbed the sheets tightly and moaned loudly with your eyes shut tight.

When it was too much to bare due to the sensitivity, you pushed at Carol's hand and she obediently pulled her fingers out.

You watched as her hand stopped glowing and watched her hungry eyes as she panted while examining her fingers coated in your juices.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and stuck her tongue out a little, barely putting her fingers in her mouth.

Once her fingers touched her tongue you watched with furrowed brows and your mouth hanging open as she moaned loudly, closing her eyes and sticking her fingers all the way Into her mouth.

She swirled her tongue around her fingers for a couple of seconds before pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a pop and meeting your eyes.

"Baby, you taste fucking amazing." She breathed out.

You groaned and let your head fall back on to the bed as your breathing started to fall down.

You felt the bed dip next to you and you turned your head, meeting Carol's warm gaze.

"How was that for our first time?" She smirked.

"I think it could've been better." You shrugged jokingly.

"Oh? Well, I guess that means it's time for round two."

[thmles]

| Betty.

- i don't know anything but i know i miss you.

[warnings: a bit sad, a little angsty, just teenage love that i will never have, not proofread]

[a/n: i tried to do it in a sort of 2nd pov? i think it ended up pretty good? so... i might also try to write another miguel story? but i'm trying to figure out if it should be smut or angsty ]

All your life, you and Miles have been the best of friends. You were neighbors, classmates, play pals. You guys were never not together, whether it be skating or even going to his Uncle Aaron’s. When you got accepted into Visions Academy, Miles strived to get accepted just so the two of you can be together. His parents supported him in his decision thinking that it would be a great opportunity for him to learn more.

“‘I love you, dad.’” You mimicked Miles’ voice before laughing loudly. You guys were sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by other students eating lunch. You could barely eat anything since you’ve been laughing at Miles the whole time.

“Yeah, yeah. Tease me all you want.” He groaned and slammed his head on the table. A few looks of concern came your way at the commotion. You stifle a laugh and rub Miles’ back.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Morales. It’s the first day of classes! Everything’s hectic, everything’s hard!” You told him with a smile. Miles groaned at the statement and propped his arm up and resting his head on it. He attempted to grab a fry from your plate before you smacked his hand. “Hey, I bought you your lunch. Don’t waste it.” You were quick to scold him and gave his tray a light shove. You took a sip of your Diet Coke Zero before continuing to eat your fries and bacon cheeseburger. “But your fries look way tastier!” He protested and made another move for your tray.

“Miles, I bought the exact same thing for you.”

“Well, stolen food is still better.”

You rolled your eyes. “How’s your first day? Hopefully not as eventful as mine.” Miles asked before popping more fries in his mouth.

“Well, I was late for the first class, then I went to grab some stuff from my locker but clearly underestimated how much time I need to go to the Physics Classroom which was on the other side of the building,” You sighed and grabbed fries from his tray and munched on them.

“Then I tripped going up the stairs, but some guy named Harry helped me up.” You finished and drank from your cup. Miles laughed at your story and his eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah, Uncle Aaron’s been asking about you! He told us to drop by sometime.”

You let out a laugh and shook your head. “I can’t make time this week, Miles. It’s only the first day and I have a lot of things to finish.”

He groaned and realized he had to finish things as well, especially the essay assigned by their physics teacher.

-

“Hey, Miles. Did you meet your Uncle Aaron last night? You didn’t text after you said you left your dorm.” You were quick to approach him in the hallway. “Wait, did you just grow a couple of inches? We were at about the same height yesterday? Or am I hallucinating?” You fired question after question and you failed to notice how each question agitated Miles.

“Look, I-I don’t know either, okay? Stop asking so many questions!” He stopped and yelled. The whole hallway became quiet as they gawked at the pair of you. You were stunned and hurt. “I-I was just worried, Miles. I didn’t mean to-” Before you could even finish your sentence, he bolted out the hallway and left you there. Other students stared at you before resuming whatever they were doing. You sighed and went back to class before you could overthink what was happening.

-

In the past days, it was revealed that Peter Parker was the man behind the mask of Spider-Man. Unfortunately, he passed due to the earthquake that day Miles stopped talking to you. For the past few days, you haven’t heard much from him, only knowing that he hung around a blond girl named, ‘Gwanda.’ His parents reached out to you hoping you knew what was going on with Miles since he hasn’t been talking to them either. They told you that his Uncle Aaron passed and the new Spider-Man was probably the one that killed him.

You figured you’d reach out to him by going to his dorm. You knew his roommate, Ganke, from your chemistry class and asked him where their dorm was. Later on that day, you knocked on the door, seeing a shadow moving around the room. You knocked gently and called out. With no response, you just talked. “Hey, Miles. It’s me. I-I know you’re probably busy there but I hope you can hear me. Something-Something happened to your Uncle Aaron,” You choked back a sob as tears began to form in your eyes. “I think it’d be best if your family told you about that.” You took a shaky breath.

“Miles, I don’t know anything but I know I miss you. I miss how we hang out and laugh at each other’s jokes. How we listen to each other’s music,” You heard a faint shuffle before you continued, “and how you make me the happiest person when we’re together. This is probably going to be the shittiest way I confess but I like you, Miles. I always have. You’re my best friend and I was always afraid I’d lose you if I said anything.” You leaned your head against the door.

“I know you feel pressured from your family and maybe even from me. But your family and I push you to do your best because we know you can do it. You are special, Miles. You have this spark inside of you and it is amazing. Just keep doing you and we’ll support you. We’re here for you, Miles.” A tear ran down your face and you were quick to wipe it away. You sniffed as you tried to hold back your tears. “We don’t have to talk soon. Take your time, okay? I’ll wait for you.”

-

Later on, you found yourself walking around Brooklyn to clear your head. The earthquake caused by the Fisk Tower got you shaken and felt the need to take a breather. You still haven’t heard from Miles. You looked at your phone for any new notifications and the picture of you and Miles on your middle school graduation looked back at you.

“It isn’t safe for young people to be out at night.” A voice pretending to be gruff and deep informing you. You looked up with a gasp. “Y-You’re that new Spider-Man! The one that just took down Fisk right?”

He let out a nervous laugh before continuing his deep voice. “T-That’s me!” You raised an eyebrow and observed his figure. You circled around him as he stood still. “Look, you have to get home before you-”

“Miles?” The lens of his mask grew wide.

“W-What?”

“You remind me of my friend, Miles. He does this stupid deep voice thing when he makes fun of some older guys that annoy us.”

“O-Oh…”

“Unless…” You put a hand on your chin as you began to think.

“How about I just get you home before something bad happens to you?”

-

The new Spider-Man swung you back at the Visions Academy. To say the experience was terrifying was an understatement. You were clinging to him like a baby koala. He made sure to gently land on the rooftop of the building and set you down just as gentle. He stood on the ledge, ready to leave and bid you a farewell, you cut him off.

“I know it’s you, Miles. I can smell your ‘unique’ cologne that I gifted you last Christmas.” You told him. You slowly approached him until you were on the ledge. You leaned against it as he sat down.

“Is that why you were avoiding us?” You asked him softly and looked at him. He took his mask off and looked down at the busy street below.

“Yeah. I was…trying to figure things out. I didn’t know who to talk to…” You let out a sigh and looked out at the city. The bright lights lit the city up like stars in the night sky. The wind was cold and you shivered through your thin sweater.

“I-I heard everything from earlier…about how you miss me and that you’ll support me and all of that..” You were thankful that it was dark as your face heated up. “And how you like me.” Miles finished and looked at you. “I-I meant what I said, Miles. It’s up to you but I understand if you don’t want to talk or be friends anymore after that-” You rambled nervously. Miles chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I like you too.” Your face flushed red again as you hid your face in your hands. Miles laughed and gently tugged your hands out of your face. He got down the ledge and stood beside you, leaning against the ledge.

“How about a movie date at my place?” He suggested.

“How about we go to the Arts Museum then we watch a movie? Like Back to the Future?”

“Only if you buy pizza.”

“As long as you buy some ice cream.”

“Deal.”

[twentydaysofmay]

So at first, this was a reblog of a different post, but I am now making it an original one for greater reach. Be warned that it's going to be quite long.

So, we all know and love the promotional comics of our Wii boxers, like this one about Glass Joe:

You might have never questioned its origin, and neither did I when I first encountered it a year ago. I just assumed that Nintendo officially published it in a guide, because that's what every source about them that I've read was implying.

But then I learnt that these translations aren't official at all. They were apparently done by the Tumblr user @boink-the-joiner in 2013, whose blog seems to be unfortunately deleted.

And then I was informed of the existence of this image by my friend @fan-mans (Charlie):

He said he originally found it on Tumblr, though he didn't give me the link to where he got it from. (It happens to be included at the very start of this post.)

But this supposed "original version" seemed fishy to me for several reasons:

If this is the "original" Japanese version, and no "official" English one exists that was published alongside it, why are the sound effects written in the Latin alphabet?

Why is the authorship at the bottom in English? And isn't that the exact same font as in the well-known English version?

Why is it read left-to-right? Shouldn't it be flipped from the English version? Wouldn't it make more sense for Mac to punch him with his right arm and for Joe's hair to be more often on his right side than the left, and to first put on the left boxing glove, and hold the coffee cup in his right hand?

Why is there a red rectangle in the middle right?

Charlie said that all of this was because Nintendo was catering to an American audience, but never actually published the guide outside of Japan. (Apart from the red rectangle, which was apparently a part of the website that image originally came from, but he didn't have a link to that either.) I didn't believe it at first, because it just seemed like an incredibly stupid pair of decisions to me.

But today, I found this webpage. It's a blog post talking about strategy books for Nintendo games, and includes this image:

This is it! This is proof that Nintendo printed the comic to be read left to right in the original Japanese version!

There was that little bit of doubt in my mind though. What if the copy that shows the actual pages of the comic is in English? The quality is so low...

...but the kana here are clear enough.

That isn't the end of the story. Shortly afterwards, I came across this webpage:

THIS IS THE ORIGIN OF THAT JAPANESE VERSION OF THE JOE COMIC ABOVE! The red rectangle was, indeed, holding up a textbox.

Anyway, the full website can be found here, and includes a few other materials, such as this part of a guide on Title Defense Von Kaiser:

Sadly, the website only includes Joe's comic, and I haven't found the original Japanese versions of anyone else online, so currently, you'd have to own the guide to know what they look like.

Also, out of curiosity, I decided to use the Wayback Machine to see if the site has ever been modified, but it just wasn't archived there at all. Not even a single snapshot. So I went ahead and preserved what it currently looks like.

The website itself seems to belong to the company that published the guide, Enterbrain, a division of Kadokawa Future Publishing, which is a part of the Kadokawa Corporation. The names "Ebten" and "Famitsu" seem to be related to it as well, but I have yet to figure out exactly how. The full Japanese title of the book is パンチアウト！！完全クリアーガイドブック, and its ISBN is 978-4-7577-5067-8. At least according to these listings.

Not all questions about the comics have been answered. For instance, we still aren't quite sure why Nintendo (or Enterbrain, anyway) decided to flip them. And our translator Boink had to have the copies of all of the Japanese comics, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to translate them! What if they are reachable somewhere else, and we can ask them if they still have the original scans?

More information might come as I (and hopefully others) research more.

[kayleighwinchester]

Long Story

((Oh my god, I meant to post something on the 3rd and the 4th for @artyandink's Jensen-a-Thon and life just said 'mmm, no' - but here we are, my second entry! Another Dean x Reader! This can be read separately of Rocks and Rom Coms, but does follow the same reader insert, so they can definitely be read together! More coming soon! I swear to God, if this turns into an actual series... TW for mild mentions of injuries/blood.))

He had a key to your house.

Dean Winchester was one of three people (besides yourself, of course) that had a key: your mother, who lived across the country, over a day’s drive away in sunny, humid Florida; your best friend, who only really came over to your place for your once-monthly girls’ night; and Dean Winchester, who never, ever actually used the thing, preferring, god only knew why (he claimed it was more “romantic, or somethin’”, his exact words, not yours), to come in your bedroom window.

It was stupid, and maybe even a little dangerous – the half-dead tree he used to actually get up to the second story was one good thunderstorm away from falling, and the house itself was so old that you swore it was held together with duct tape and way too many instances of you calling your grandfather, who had built the house before your mother was even born, for advice and willing the house to stay in one piece.

With that in mind, you were thoroughly confused when, in the middle of the night, as you were making yourself a snack in the kitchen, you heard a key in the lock – or, well, the key missing the lock and hitting the door several times, and then finally making its way into the lock properly.

Even drunk, your best friend would have called first, even though, with how much of a struggle it had clearly been to get the key into the lock, she was your first thought. Your mother had just sent you vacation photos from her trip to California, which was even further from you than Florida. That left Dean – and the fact that he was using the front door at all left an uneasy feeling in your stomach. It was a clear break from a routine you’d established and held to for almost a year now, no matter what the weather was when he showed up at your window.

You turned, let your weight rest against the kitchen counter for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, and then pushed off of it, moving for the entryway. 

“Y/N? You home?” Dean sounded decidedly not good, and you picked up your pace just slightly, rounding the side of the staircase, and – oh. Dean looked decidedly not good too, though as he saw you he stubbornly straightened up, tried to smile (it looked far more like a grimace) and kicked the door closed behind him. He wasn’t entirely able to hide the way his weight pressed back against it.

“What happened to you?” You breathed out as you drew closer. You didn’t know much about what Dean did when he wasn’t with you – you assumed he had some kind of job, even if it seemed like a pretty shitty one – he showed up bruised and sore and stiff more often than not, but this was far worse than that. There was a bruise already turning a deep shade of purple above his eyebrow, and there was a slightly distant, foggy look on his face. You were willing to bet money he was concussed.

“Long story.” Was all he offered in response, slowly pushing himself off of the door. You didn’t pry – you never did – just reaching out to steady him. There was a mild limp in his gait, one that favored his left side, and you offered a grimace of your own. You weren’t sure he’d make it up the stairs, so you half-dragged him to the couch instead. He dropped down to the cushions with a groan, green eyes closing – if you couldn't see the pain he was in, it might have almost seemed cute, like he was just sinking down into a particularly comfortable seat. You knew better, in any case – the couch was easily the least comfortable piece of furniture you'd had the misfortune of owning. The couch wasn’t comfortable – he was just hurting. You knew that feeling well enough – the point where anything mostly horizontal and not entirely covered in bees was comfortable enough.

He didn’t stay down for long though – in fact, he was only sitting for the span of time it took you to return to the kitchen for the glass of wine you’d poured yourself and to pour him one as well – before you could hear him moving around again, and his voice was still distinctly not okay as he called out, from the general direction of the half-bath under the staircase, “You don’t happen to have any floss lyin’ around, do you?”

Floss?

“What?” Is the only answer you could think to reply with as you rounded the staircase again, glasses of wine still in hand, the bottle carefully tucked into your elbow. He peeked around the doorframe at you, somehow managing to look oh-so-charming, even now. 

“Y’know. Floss.” He motioned to his mouth, but you caught a glimpse of just a bit of exhausted exasperation, like he was explaining something incredibly obvious. 

“In the – in the hall closet, I think; why do you need floss?” 

He was looking at you like you were a little slow on the uptake, and you were staring at him like he’d gone insane, and it took a few heartbeats for him to seemingly process that his request was decidedly not normal. He made those, now and then, or said things, or asked things, that just didn’t quite make sense – this was one of them. You couldn’t tell if he was planning on actually answering your question – it didn’t seem like he was, at least not yet, because he moved for the hall closet, continuing his search.

“Dean,” You started, “you want to tell me why you need –...” Your eyes landed on his hip. The gray material of his tee-shirt and the upper portion of his jeans were soaked through in a dark, dark red, and for a moment, you felt a little queasy. “You don’t need dental floss, Dean, you need a hospital.” You informed him.

“Nah.” God, you hated it when he said that, because it was almost always followed up by something completely stupid. “I got you.” Yep. It all processed rather quickly after that. He needed dental floss for stitches. He couldn’t reach it himself – he had you. He had you, the nursing student, and he wanted you to stitch him up with dental floss. You set the glasses of wine and the bottle down on the side table before you could drop them. 

“You want me to stitch you up.” You clarified. “With dental floss.” He finally found what he was looking for - the unopened multi-pack of little travel-sized flosses - and waved it triumphantly next to his head, finally turning around to look at you. You were struck again by how tired he looked – you could practically see the headache pulsing behind his eyes, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that the cheerful, charismatic smile he was putting on was incredibly forced.

“It’s easy!” He promised quickly, with the tone of someone who knew what he was asking was most certainly not easy. “I’ve been doin’ it since I was a kid. Had to stitch my Dad up all the time.” He caught your eye, giving a sheepish grin as he saw the horror on your face. “Long story.”

That was quickly becoming one of your least favorite phrases.

[mqverick]

Walking On Air || chapter 9

Take me to bed or lose me forever, was what Carole said to Goose every time they were together, having fun. Maverick never really understood what she meant by it until he started having feelings for you. It was exactly how he felt about you; he needed to just fuck everything and everyone, every obstacle in the way, and take you with him before he could lose you to someone else — which ironically enough, had already happened.

Or so he thought, until the other night.

He had been so fixated on the fact that you were taken so deeply inside of him, that he believed he could never fully have you, that part of your mind would always stay true to Iceman, even if the miracle happened and you broke up with him.

Hearing the drunken words come out of your mouth, so rushed and so painfully angsty, got him hoping you might be getting lost in the same path he’d been since the day you spoke to him for the first time. Drunken words were — in fact — sober thoughts, after all. Not to mention that it was the — what, third? — time he almost got to kiss you. Maverick was not the one to pine after someone, he was used to the exact opposite effect, never having to chase anyone.

He liked having to chase after you, though. He liked to dream up flawless scenarios of you, desperately wanting them to come to life. He liked how much of a dopamine rush he got from those breathless conversations and moments with you. It was hard to resist the urge to keep his feelings buried, opting to play them off as a charismatic, casual flirt — because that was what he’d been used to. That was all he knew.

You liked the way he yearned for you as well. He just made you feel so irresistibly wanted and loved, even if his cockiness never really helped his pure feelings come to light. You were very aware of them though, you were in the same page as him, never mind the fact that for you, it happened as an accident. Sure, a little flirting never hurt anyone — but oh, he was holding your hand (and for some reason you found yourself struggling to breathe steadily.)

In the morning, you woke up wanting to beat yourself to death. You’d been mindless; consuming all that alcohol, getting yourself hammered and ignoring the consequences.

Goose’s words were bloody when he said that Maverick technically had every right to hit on others. Goose’s words teared your heartstrings in pieces and made you conscious of how you’d been accusing everyone else to be a jerk, when in reality, you’d been the only twat in the story.

Maverick probably hated you.

Tom would probably hate you, too.

You tried. Gave it your all — good point to chuckle — to make your relationship with him work, but every time you closed your eyes, your mind betrayed you, unable of getting a certain someone out of the picture. The worst thing was the fact that you didn’t even really care whether Tom would want to cut you off once he found out about the situation you’d been dealing with.

You were frightened of the scenario where Pete stopped caring about you, mostly because it was impossible to imagine. Therefore, you did your best to turn yourself invisible by making up a rushed excuse of being too hungover to properly function at Top Gun, opting to stay home.

Tom respected your decision, wishing you to get well soon as he gave you a sweet kiss goodbye.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you fell back on the couch with a plop. You felt as if hours had passed when a thud on the door startled you. You fumbled to get up, standing unblinking as you opened the door to see Maverick holding a paper bag with both of his hands as he fiddled the heel of his shoe around the floor while chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Heard Ice say you felt poorly and got you something,” he spoke lowly, reaching his hand out for you to take the item he held. Your lips parted in silent surprise as you hesitantly invited him in. “Look, I know you don’t want to see me, but you might as well say a word, because it’s getting sort of weird.”

“Maverick, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d bring you a little something to eat.”

You honestly despised the man. How did he still care about you after you you’d been unable to seal your mouth shut the night before, yammering about mistreating you (mind the irony), you didn’t know. Still, that did not constitute an obstacle for you to lunge forward and fling yourself into his arms, your head hitting against his chest as you encircled his waist tightly. You moved your head a little, stopping dead in your tracks as your ear picked up the sound of his heartbeat violently increasing.

He still had to reach for you, taken aback by your sudden affection and not being sure how to react. Maverick’s brain short-circuited, until everything finally clicked and he was holding you so close to his body, he thought he was squishing the life out of you — but he never heard you complain.

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” you whispered, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. You wanted to say more, apologize for being so ridiculously indecisive and not giving him the chance to move on, instead having him wait until you could grow a pair and end things with Tom, but the words died down in your throat when you felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his palm now cupping the back of your head. He knew you could hear his heartbeat and he also knew it was giving him away.

When you pulled away, your knees buckled and you almost melted into a puddle. His hands had somehow traveled down to your smaller ones, holding them delicately.

Take me to bed or lose me forever.

“It’s a grilled cheese, in case you were wondering, by the way,” Maverick blurted, looking over to the paper bag with the food you’d left on a counter.

“I love it.” I love you.

“I need to get going.”

“No,” you argued, grabbing his hand in yours the moment he reached for the door handle. “Stay here with me. I’m sure Viper’s more than happy that you’re not there to wreck the planes. Goose might be missing you, but he can cry about it to Carole when the day is over.”

Maverick let an amused chuckle escape from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your wrists, gently rubbing on the skin with his thumbs.

“You want me to stay with you?” he asked in disbelief. It was adorable how flustered he was.

“I’m not repeating anything, Mitchell.”

With a little smirk and a smudge look on his face, he moved toward you, leaning in closer to your lips, which was a scenario you’d accepted, hadn’t he had a sudden change of heart and went for your forehead instead, pressing a long, warm kiss against it that made you shudder under his touch.

“You want me to stay with you,” he chimed, sounding more as if he was bragging to himself.

You tried to stifle a smile as you placed your ear over his drumming heartbeat, already forgetting you had the whole ‘sick from the booze’ act to keep up, but then again, when had you ever been able to hide what you really felt around Maverick?

“We can’t be here though,” you suddenly mouthed, the image of Tom unlocking the door to you and the man he hated snuggling comfortably up on the couch causing sweat to form on the back of your neck as you pushed Maverick away from you and fixed your fingers through your hair.

“Why not?” You gave him a knowing look that made him sigh. “We can’t hide forever, you know.”

Deciding to ignore his comment, you dragged him outside by the hand, nodding where he’d parked his motorcycle. “Cliff tops,” you silently explained and saw the corners of his lips turn upward as he helped you onto the seat.

It seemed to startle him when you wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your face against the fabric of the leather jacket that covered his back, turning his head ever so slightly to look at you with that charming Maverick smirk of his.

Your heart hammered against your chest as he began driving, hair flying carelessly through the wind, leaning further into him and clutching your intertwined hands firmly against his stomach.

Your brain felt as if it was fogged by the light fragrance he was wearing, head nuzzling on his shoulder now, lips moving dangerously close to his cheek. You let them carefully graze his skin, feeling him shudder — or was it just your mind playing tricks on you?

After having arrived at the tops, Maverick got off his motorcycle, lending you his hand to take as he helped you get off as well, shaky, nervous fingers testing the waters as he gently let them linger around yours, waiting for your hand to pull away. Instead, your knuckles tightened, grasp sinking into his, not daring to look up at him for capturing his reaction.

He sat next to you on the hill, so close that the warmth radiating from his outer thigh gave you goosebumps. You shifted just a little, so that your leg could be touching his, eyes darting down on your lap as you crossed your arms.

“It’s beautiful up here. I like how I can consider it our spot now,” you heard Maverick mutter.

“Our spot?”

His head turned to look at you. “Yeah. Ideally, the first time I would’ve liked to bring you here would be a date, but I can settle for the late sneak-out after your fight with Kazansky.”

Your heart clenched as you hesitantly met his cherishing gaze. You hadn’t wanted anyone like that in really long time and it felt like something was sucking the soul out of you. “Maverick?”

“Hm?”

“When you’re flying, you might lose power. It’s a fatal risk, but it doesn’t stop you from enlisting in the Navy. Flying at up to 700 mph, the smallest mistake can be deadly, your plane could plunge out of the sky, break apart on impact. The cockpit is too small, so you’ll feel like your losing your breath even though you might not have died just yet — and it’s all terrifying and out of control.”

Maverick stared blankly at you, waiting for you to make a point. “What are you trying to say?”

“This is exactly how I feel whenever you look at me,” you finally mustered the courage to confess, seeing your lip starting to quiver. Unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of your feelings, you opted to let your pinky softly wrap around his.

Maverick stared at you, jaw slightly hung, eyes gleaming. “You feel that way about me?”

His question came out so shaky and gentle that it worsened your situation of trying not to break down right there in front of him. “Of course I do. You’re so ridiculously insufferable, I hate you.”

He cocked his head to the side with the tiniest hint of a smirk. “But you love flying.”

“I love flying,” you confirmed, letting the rest of your fingers wrap around his hand as you brought it over to your lap, holding it firmly enough to believe that what was happening in that moment was not just a figment of your imagination.

“I love flying, too.”

With hope written all over your face, your mouth stretched into a grin, holding back a giggle. God, when had you turned fourteen all over again?

Right when you were about to say something, you felt his lips ghost above your forehead before he was leaning down just a bit and kissing the bridge of your nose as tenderly as he could, making you dizzy and unable to think straight. Kiss me, kiss me before I regret it, before I start thinking again. He stalled against you, foreheads now touching as he realized that you hadn’t moved away from him yet.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

“What?”

“It’s what Carole says to Goose. Said. I don’t know if she still tells him that. I never got it, to be honest, but all I know is that I don’t want to lose you, Maverick. Never,” you explained breathily.

“You’re not losing me, not even if you want to,” Maverick chuckled, letting a warm puff hit your already very reddened cheeks. You smiled at him, head now moving forward, so that you could nudge the top of his nose with your own.

“Pete,” you whispered, the words coming out as a ghost tugging at his heart. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, bringing you oh so impossibly close to him that if you squinted hard enough, your lips would be touching. And there it was again; that look he’d been giving you ever since the day you met, lovestruck eyes melting into yours. “Drop looking at me like that, Pete.”

“I can’t,” he spoke, voice weary as if he was on the verge of tears. “You walked in the room the first time Viper came in and the breath was knocked out of my lungs the very same second. So, no, I don’t think I can look at you in a way that’s not giving away how deeply head over heels I—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, stunned by his words. “Don’t continue the sentence, Mav. Don’t continue it, because if you do, I’m going to lose every last ounce of self control I have in my body right now and I should warn you, there’s not much remaining.”

Maverick nodded slowly in acceptance before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, then deciding to be brave, ducking down just the right direction to kiss the corner of your lips. His palms were still holding onto your cheeks, applying more pressure now as he let his mouth linger, heads connecting. You were about to lose it; all the sanity in your system, all the thoughts of do’s and dont’s. With a slight angle twist, he could be kissing you properly, on the lips, but every cell in your body was sweating to prevent that from happening. It was killing you.

“I love flying so much, Roger. So much that I don’t care if it costs me my life, I’m going to keep pursuing breaking the typical rules and fly on my own. It makes me feel alive,” Maverick confessed.

“You should,” you replied breathlessly. “It’ll get you places, Pete. You can hold your own.”

“Take me to bed,” he whispered, loud enough so that you heard him, a small smirk creeping up against the — now flushed from the kiss — corners of your lips.

“Or lose me forever.”

tags:

@holishol

@honeymvnt

[project-sekai-facts]

I could totally be wrong abt this, since I haven't actually read most wxs stories, but from the ones I did read, I noticed that Tsukasa sometimes... weaponizes his insecurities and struggles? I shouldn't use the word weaponize, more like he uses them as a tool to enhance his acting? The biggest example being Pheonix at the Sky's Edge CH 7 & 8, where he feels like he'll never reach the goal he set for himself and uses it as a way to improve his role as Ryo? Or Dazzling Stage, where he turns his loneliness as a chid into a way to relate to Torpe? I think he does it all the time actually, since he's super loud and dramatic but his internal dialogue is so much quieter. He takes any emotion he feels and bass boosts it, which actually makes a lot of sense since we've seen him when he's not acting like that and Nene was actually kind of put-off that he wasn't yelling and being theatrical (wonder magical showtime CH 8).

Yeah, you're right. Tsukasa is probably best described as a method actor. He struggles with characters that he cannot relate to (emotionally), and has to find a way to connect himself with them in order to play them, such as Torpe and Rio. With Torpe, he was only able to act the character as best he could once he came to terms with his lonliness as a child/younger teen and realised that he used the piano in the exact same way Torpe looked at the stars. Same with Rio, where he tried starving himself like the character does first, only for that to not work but then forced himself to face his inferiority and hopelessness, and was able to connect that to the character. He always finds a way to relate to the character emotionally in the end, but both times it’s required him to uncover/face something unpleasant (that being his loneliness and inferior talent). So yeah, he's good at fairly flat 'hero' or otherwise mostly positive characters, but when he gets given a more emotionally complex character, he has to use his personal struggles to get into the mindset of the character.

I think that Tsukasa is the kind of person who doesn’t like to dwell on the past too much, but also he doesn’t seem to like to think about things that aren’t, y'know, mostly positive. Like, the reason he wanted to become a star, as well as his loneliness when he was younger both stem from Saki being really ill, which is not the most pleasant thing to think of. He doesn’t think about the group splitting up in future as much as the other members do, he is aware of it but doesn’t face it. Mr. Showtime and some brief scenes in Lion Dance New Year are the best look at that we get. And he has to force himself to face that he has less talent than the people around him in Phoenix at the Sky's Edge and breaks down crying (this is not healthy jeez).

There's an area conversation from a while back where Rui asks Toya if Tsukasa has always had the confident and showy personality and Toya says that Tsukasa adopted that personality as a kid because he felt he needed to be more outwardly confident for Saki, and it just stuck. (note: EN translated the first sentence a bit weird. As far as I can understand, in the original text Toya says that Tsukasa did do the persona deliberately as a child, but here it makes it sound like he didn't). I think that alone explains the difference between how he acts outwardly vs inwardly.

He projects everything big and loud because it makes him appear confident, and he had to be brave for Saki so he could make her happy. Not all of the projecting is for confidence reasons, he's generally pretty emotional when the emotions are positive, and always projects them up to 11. I'm assuming that with the length of time Saki was in hospital for, he got so used to his persona that it just naturally became his normal personality. So maybe as that happened he started to amplify how he expressed everything, not just his courage. When we get to see his inner self, I think it's more toned down because he doesn't need to project when he's alone, and I'm guessing that this is how he acted before the persona, or at least somewhat close.

[thatneoncrisis]

I was just catching up on your most recent fic after a busy week and saw your AN and came here looking for more clarification.

I guess I don’t understand why you felt the need to take it upon yourself to write something that you knew would get the attention of the people you were satirizing. Your whole stance on fan fiction (based on your own personal statements in both your asks and your ANs) seems to be that if people aren’t doing it the way you personally like, they shouldn’t be doing it at all. You keep saying you want people to just talk to you about it but why should they when you haven’t extended that gesture to them?

Also it’s very odd of you to be speaking for an entire group of people you yourself do not identify with. To what end exactly? So you can pat yourself on the back and tell yourself you fandom correctly while everyone else doesn’t? Did someone come to you and ask you to advocate for them? It just doesn’t make sense why you felt like this was your responsibility to correct or something.

It kind of reeks of moral (and fandom) superiority, like you’re just doing the most to educate people (which is. Not a thing we need in fandom spaces) and keep them on your straight and narrow instead of letting fandom works be what they are which is, for most people, a fun, exploratory way to engage with the source material. Your GOTCHA attitude towards readers who were enjoying your “bland” fic was very shocking. It does come across like you just want to embarrass people who enjoy those types of stories and tropes and make yourself feel enlightened and better than them because you thought outside the box.

I don’t know. The idea of using these tropes as a tool to spring “THIS WASN’T REAL” on readers is fun but I think it would have been much better if you hadn’t actually been making fun of other people. That kind of spoils the whole experience of your fic. I’ve been a fan of your writing and art for a long time and I do genuinely understand the desire to have people write more of what you want to see/write things that feel more in-character, but the approach here is confusing and off putting and it’s pretty disappointing to see you openly hurt people just because you like dicking around and can’t just scroll past stories/ideas/headcanons you don’t agree with.

Anyway I doubt any of this will change your mind about what you did and I doubt you’ll even care about what I have to say about it. It’s hurtful and upon deeper inspection and reading and rereading the fic and your AN and asks, I’m pretty sure I’m one of the intended targets. This is kind of word vomit at this point as I try to get my thoughts out but you asked for the people you were criticizing to reach out so here I am. Discouraging and disappointing but I hope you found what you were looking for I guess.

see thats like. completely antithetical to the point ive been reiterating for like a week. i CANNOT stop anyone from writing and i dont want to this is not the take away and it never has been. if they want to write fifteen fics like that to spite me then good on them i really just

cannot keep saying enough that i dont want anyone to STOP writing. this was just me kind of screaming in the dark because i see the exact same patterns repeated over and over. you should never ever stop creating because some fucking nobody is frustrated with the content produced en mass for free as a hobby. there is no actionable Thing that can take place here i cant stop anyone from writing any of this i just kind of wanted some people to Think about what they were reading. ive gotten messages from people saying they didnt like the initial tone of the story before chapter 4 but kept reading it because they were desperate for content. thats nuts to me! but i also understand that those people just have very little to choose from. if anything i want MORE people to write

like i keep saying again and again i do not want and cannot stop anyone from writing whatever they want. im not your mom! and to a certain degree, this did come out of nowhere there was no big thing that set it off, it was just me being obscenely frustrated.

and what i am REALLY frustrated about is how presumptuous youre being! i do feel bad that i hurt people and i decided basically a day after i posted the chapter i would never do something like this ever again. theres just too much room for misinterpretation. you are actively reading me as malicious like we can just talk in dms. "im so disappointed in you" YOU DO NOT KNOW ME. THAT is the shit that is getting to me youre acting like i am incapable of acknowledging how i know this fic could have been interpreted. its up now i made my bed im not going to plug my ears and pretend a public vent wouldn't catch people unawares. i am no stupid and do not treat me as such

i am actively choosing not to post most of the asks i get in FAVOR of this because they are dumping on the kinds of fics i dont even necessarily like and i think that's just adding on. again this is why i spoke about braid tropes used, shit that could basically be applicable to any fandom, and not a particularly fic. i didnt want to go into someones comments or dms and say hey! your fic is personally, to me, bad and hard to read, might you explain yourself? like theres nothing TO explain its aet it just exists how it is. there was no nice way of doing this kind of thing, but itd be so sweet if people didnt call me a friendless clout chaser and do some "you'll never work in this town again" shit.

[artist-issues]

Day Nine💖

(reminder that if anybody wants me to stop sending these asks at any time, just tell me and I will stop!)

what is the thing that you are the most passionate about in life and why? what sparked your interest in it? is their a goal with it you want to reach, and are you actively working on your passion, or is it just something you know a lot about?

It should be Jesus but I don’t think it is, not perfectly, not all the time. What I tell myself and others it is, most of the time, is “storytelling.” But what I think it actually is (most of the time, but not when I’m in the Spirit) is self-glorification and wanting to be famous.

So there’s the triple-nature. What I should be passionate about, what I want to be passionate about, what I am passionate about underneath it all. But only one of those things is going to actually endure, and it’s “what I should be passionate about.”

Anyway.

What sparked my interest in storytelling was a combo of factors, but I remember the exact moment it came together clearly. I was getting ready for church and I’d been up all night (because at this point in my life I was like 19 and having trouble sleeping was a thing.) And I was trying to decide what to do with my life. I had interest in animated movies and in counseling but I didn’t know what to go to college for, so I was taking a gap year.

And as I was getting ready for church my draft table had the “Lilo & Stitch: Collected Stories From the Film’s Creators” book open on it, and I was listening to a worship playlist in my room and thinking about movies, and thinking about telling some of the kids I worked with in student ministries what made Lilo & Stitch kind of a Gospel story and how I could tell that to them convincingly.

(This is not my picture, but the book looks like this.)

It was open to the producer’s foreword. And this song came on my playlist:

Which is about how God is the inventor and producer behind everything. It’s Tyler Joseph and Travis Whittaker. But I wasn’t familiar with this song yet, so I thought the lyrics were saying “You’re the author, the producer, the inventor of the scene.” It’s not, it’s “inventor of the seed,” but whatever, same principle.

Then like I was having some kind of dramatic realization, the vague idea that all of life was a movie God made, and the main point was Himself, and all man-made stories that were good had nuggets of that in them, clicked together. I had never thought of reality that way before.

And ll through that morning’s service and yammering to my mother at lunch afterward, I was just thinking thinking thinking about it. About how, in movies, the setting tells the story as much as the characters and events tell the story. (Stitch starts out in vast outer space where all the ships look vaguely like fish—then the scene transitions to a small, folksy town with a local feel, but still plenty of fish imagery.) And how, in God’s “movie,” the plants and the way they work tell the story of the Gospel. Seeds, growth, death, rebirth. How the seasons do the same thing. How the animals do the same thing—the freakin caterpillar is a crawling worm, then goes into a kind of death for a period of time, then comes out a new creation.

The art of storytelling, settings, characters, narrative, and all, is just a hobbled-together copy of how God has been communicating from the dawn of time.

And my brain was racing, and I remember thinking about the idea that Christians are supposed to be “little Christs.” Well, if He was THE storyteller who told His story to show us Himself, then what better could I do than be a little storyteller who showed people Him, too? Not just with my career and my writing and art, but with the way I obeyed Him with my life, obviously.

But that’s how I decided what to go to school for. And that’s what got me into the industry I’m in now.

All that to say, if there’s anything that is actually accurate about reality and God in my little “realization” or philosophy, it’s only because God showed it to me, not because I came up with it myself. And if it’s not accurate, He didn’t show it to me, I made it up and heaven help me. But so far I think He did show it to me, so I keep trying to tell stories without letting that become an idol.

[believesthings]

It Dies With You // Jason Sudeikis x Famous Reader

A/N: I wouldn’t call this a sequel necessarily, but in my mind this story exists in the same universe as “the inspiration invitation”. Although, you do not by any means have to read that story first. Secondly, I feel a little weird about this one since I believe it is the first thing I've written that explicitly mentions Olivia and the fallout of their relationship. This is purely a work of fiction and I mean no ill will towards any real life people mentioned below.

Summary: Sensing your boyfriend’s frustration about recent headlines involving his past relationship, you encourage him to process those feelings by putting them into song.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

You can hear the clicking of laptop keys and a drink thudding the top of the kitchen counter. You peak your head around the corner, seeing Jason in front of his computer. The light of the laptop screen highlights his face. If you look close enough, you can see the furrow of his brow. He’s agitated and you suspect you know why.

“Jas, honey? You alright?” You shuffle over to him bringing your hand up to the nape of his neck, massaging the muscle underneath. He sighs, looking down and running his hands over his face. He removes his hat, sitting it down on the kitchen counter and looks back up at you. “Yeah, it’s just… you know.” His hands shoot out towards the laptop screen, vaguely motioning towards the words illuminated there. He looks back up at you and you take a moment to take in his features. He seems tired. Hopefully, there should be a break in your schedules coming up soon. The both of you could use a day of serious rest.

Glancing at the computer screen in front of you, your suspicions are confirmed. Headlines about Jason’s failure to pay child support and bleeding his ex dry with legal fees causes you to release a sigh of your own. You hate that Jason is having to deal with this.

“Oh, hon. I’m so sorry.” You move your hand up and gently run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He leans over and kisses the inside of your wrist before shutting his laptop screen closed. He stands and grabs your hand walking you both over to couch. You settle in, resting your feet in his lap and he run his hands over your legs.

“I’m just…. I don’t know what to do. I can’t seem to win.”

You don’t say anything. You reach your hand out to squeeze his arm to signal that you’re there, you’re listening but you leave the space for him to talk.

“I don’t even care about the romantic aspect of it anymore, obviously.” He says gesturing to you, implying that he has since moved on. “But she is still the mother of my children, you know? I have to see her and interact with her for the sake of the kids, one of which has her exact fucking face and it’s hard not to see her when I look at him.”

“I just… I thought we had an agreement. I thought it was understood that the kids came first. They are the top priority. Regardless of where she and I were at in our lives, we never wanted to compromise the relationship with the kids. I will never understand how she can joke and laugh with me on Sunday at our son’s soccer game and then file shit like this in the court system on Monday and then look me in the eyes the next weekend like it didn’t happen.”

“The kids are getting older. What if they end up seeing this stuff online one day? I.. I don’t want them to think I’m a bad father. I don’t want them to think I don’t care.”

You sit up quickly. “No, Jason. I’m going to cut you off right there. You are not a bad father. You have to know that. They know that. I’m sure they do. Its evident in everything you do. Besides, all that really matters is how you treat them. What they will remember above everything else is how you make them feel.”

He sighs again, squeezing your hand. “I know. I just.. I hate this.”

You take a minute to look at him, an idea swirling in your mind. “Come with me.” You say. He looks at you, clearly a bit puzzled but follows nonetheless.

You lead him into the bedroom, digging through one your bedside drawers and pulling out a leather bound notepad. Turning back to survey Jason, your eyes travel down to his jeans setting your sights on the two red pens tucked into his pockets. Perfect.

Gliding towards him, you pick out one of the red pens and hold the notebook and pen out to him to take.

Giving you a quizzical look, he says, “what’s this?”

“I think you need to write.”

He scrunches his nose at you, “like a diary?”

Shaking your head at him, you continue, “No. like a song.”

He stares at you for a moment, not seeming to understand you. “I think you’ve forgotten that I am not the songwriter in this relationship sweetheart.”

“Oh, now I don’t know about that. I saw that video you made with Charlie Puth. There’s untapped potential in there, Sudeikis. I can tell.”

“Yes, a video I believe has been marked private. For good reason.”

You lead him to the bed, laying the journal face open on your lap. “Look, in all seriousness, I really think it might help. Part of the magic of songwriting is taking all of that shit that is ruminating in your brain and getting it out.”

He runs his hands over his chin looking down at you, “yeah but with songwriting you have to like make shit rhyme.”

“So? Fuck that. You don’t have to make it rhyme if you don’t want to. It’s your words. Plus, you’re really gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that you can’t come up with a rhyme, Mr. improv comedy?”

“…fair enough.”

You grab his hands, playing with his finger tips. “If you truly don’t wanna do it - forget I even said anything. But I think getting all those feelings out on paper, expressing it, helps you let go of it. It’s a way to take those thoughts that creep around in the corners of your mind and finally put them to rest. You write it and it no longer has to belong to your mind alone. You finally get to put a bookend to it and create space for something else. You don’t have to do anything with it. You don’t even have to share it with me if you aren’t comfortable. I’m not asking you dissect your creative integrity. I’m just asking you to get in front of a page and write. It doesn’t have to be poetic. Fuck that. Just write what you feel. If you don’t get it out, once you die this idea dies with you. Get in front of the page and get it out, if for no other reason than to make your mind a clearer place to live in.”

It was a much longer speech than you were planning on giving, but you really wanted to try to get your point across to him.

“I get you. It’s a little bit of a morbid way of looking at it - with the whole dying thing, but I get you. “

He grabs the notebook and pen from the bed, twirling the red pen between his fingers.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go into the kitchen, tidy some stuff up. You take some time and space and see if anything comes to you that you’d like to write down. If you want to talk, you know you’ve always got my ear.”

He peers down at you again, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Ok. Thank you.”

You head into the kitchen and start tidying up. You and Jason decided that you wanted to make cookies earlier that day and there was a surprising amount of clutter left over from the whole affair. You can hear Jason mumbling in the other room but true to your word, you leave him be. He emerges a couple hours later, coming up to hug you from behind while you are wiping down the kitchen counter. He places a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. “Thank you.” He murmurs.

“Of course. Everything okay?” You look up at him when you ask. His eyes always give him away.

“Yeah. You were right, of course.” He smiles at you.

He pauses for a minute before asking, “could you.. take a look at it?”

“You’re sure? I wasn’t joking when I said I don’t have to read it if you’re not comfortable.”

“I know but I am. Comfortable, I mean. I know you. I trust you. Plus, if anyone knows songwriting it’s the woman who has one 6 Grammy awards.”

“5 actually, if I win this year, it’ll be 6.” You smirk, correcting him.

He rolls his eyes at you. “Well, you’re gonna win. Come on now. I’m being optimistic about your chances by rounding up.”

“Come on, dork.”

You finish up in the kitchen, leading Jason back to the bedroom. You see the notebook open on the bed. You point towards it, looking at Jason and he gives you a curt nod. “I’m just gonna pop in the bathroom and get ready for bed while you look that over, honey.”

He leans in and gives you a kiss and he’s off, shutting the bathroom door behind him. You’re sure that it is partially true that he’s getting ready for bed. But you’re also sure that even though he was comfortable with you reading what he’s written, he didn’t want to be in the room while you did so. You didn’t blame him. You knew from your own personal experience how vulnerable an activity it could be.

Honestly, you were glad he did because looking down at his scrawl on the page below, he clearly didn’t hold back.

It’s funny how a memory turns into a bad dream

When running wild turns volatile

It’s not funny how it changes

Ended up like strangers

And we burned down our paper house

There were other words and phrases scribbled out throughout the page. Ideas written in margins and then crossed through upon reflection. You were only able to make out one phrase clearly: who taught you wonder, learning, and love were supposed to be easy?

It didn’t really fit, so you understand why he scratched through it but you liked it. You made a mental note of it. If Jason was okay with it, perhaps you would use it in a project of your own.

Another paragraph caught your attention.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all

That could be a load of shit

But I just need to tell you all

Some mistakes get made

That’s alright, that’s okay

You can think that you’re in love

When you’re really just engaged

Some mistakes get made

That’s alright, that’s okay

In the end it’s better for me

That’s the moral of the story

The bathroom door opens and you look up to see Jason leaning against the doorway.

“It’s good.” You tell him.

“Yeah? Like 5 Grammy awards good?”

“Eh, 5 might be overselling it. Maybe more like 3 nominations, 2 wins kind of good.” You joke back at him.

“Well in that case…” he trails off while walking over to the shelf by your side of the bed, plucking two of your awards and bringing them over to his bedside table. “I’ll go ahead and accept my accolades now.”

You go over to the shelf, examining the remaining awards. “Well it looks like you nicked the album of the year award and you’ve only written one track. So, it sounds to me like you have some more work to do before you go accepting anything, mister.”

“…maybe I’ll do that.”

“Yeah?”

He nods at you. “I’m not saying I wanna switch careers or anything, I’ll leave that to the professional in this relationship, but it felt good. You always seem to know what I need - you’re so busy being you, you don’t even realize how amazing you are.”

He pulls you into bed with him and begins kissing your neck.

“Aren’t you gonna thank me properly? You know…The Roy Kent method?”

His beard is scratching against your skin and you hear him chuckle near your ear. “Ah- yes. I’m familiar.”

He kisses down your body. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

[moonmaidensblessing]

I love Mystra as a character 100% she is an interesting character and I adore a morally questionable woman with my whole heart in fiction but I’m trying to get why ppl get so up in arms about her. The concept of a god having a relationship with a mortal is nothing new; I wrote a paper last semester comparing Gale to Odysseus from the Odyssey for the very reason they both had relationships with goddesses. It’s an age old situation in storytelling and it’s not going anywhere.

I want to posit the idea that Gale’s specific dynamic with Mystra is meant to say more about his character than her, though, since he’s a major character. His relationship with her is meant to tell us how powerful he is as a magic-wielder and his connection with it is beyond what the average magic user could ever dream of (looking at you, Rolan). He is written in a way where his hubris could easily lead him down a bad path as it had done several times for him already. He is messing with things beyond his scope, though, as he learns more and gains more power. A line I always feel people ignore is the one where he admits Mystra gave him a boundary, appropriately seeing what it was (Netherese magic that had almost killed her before), and tend to majorly focus on the fact that she asks him to sacrifice himself with that same dangerous magic. I mean, i can see a perspective that she sees Gale as potentially dangerous since he disregards her request ultimately for his own purposes. Keep in mind that he not only has the parasite, but the orb would not be kept docile forever. He became dangerous not only to himself but to anyone unfortunate enough to be too close should something happen. He poses an immense threat after crossing Mystra’s boundary (his exact words in the game) to Faerûn, the Weave itself, etc.

Does this make Gale evil? No. He had the potential to be misguided, though, in the story, and I think that’s the writers’ point was how easy it can be to fall from might and grace with a few bad choices.

To be frank, the dynamic between Gale and Mystra is already at a power imbalance. It isn’t like the other characters’ relationships with their respective gods because they do not have a romantic/sexual relationship with them. That is a curious distinction, which would lend to it being an unusual practice in the pantheon of the gods. However, not in the world of literature, I reiterate. Odysseus has intimate encounters with several goddesses in his journey, but the power dynamic is written a lot differently than how Mystra and Gale are written.

If it is not common practice for the gods to have intimate interactions with mortals, then it stands to reason that it is a discouraged practice among them. We hear a line in the game where Gale says Ao would not permit Mystra to interfere with their quest directly, and it makes me believe there are rules for the gods when it comes to behavior and actions. For some reason, Mystra is permitted to have romantic relationships with her worshippers, and I have to wonder why that is. Apparently it isn’t common for her to pick someone, either, as she only chooses the most powerful magic users, her chosen ones. And that’s where we start to run into the power imbalances.

In a way, Gale seeks the missing magic for Mystra to feel equal to her, a dynamic that would never change no matter what he did. Who is really to blame? The one who wasn’t content in his role, or the god who appointed him to that role in the first place? Was Mystra trying to influence Gale to stop him reaching beyond mortal limitations, fearing (for him or perhaps herself even) that he would go too far one day just like Karsus before him? Did she have valid reasons to fear for herself and the world of magic, or was it a selfish act borne out of fear of losing control of her realm and devotees? I don’t think people are thinking this deeply about it.

I think why it bugs me in a way that kids keep giving her the “bitchy mean girl” treatment is because it sort of cheapens the intent of the characters and what its supposed to mean to the story. I mean It’s funny but I cannot look at a single piece of fan art online that features her without 15 ppl all unironically claiming acts of violence against a video game character. I guess its ultimately harmless, and it’s good they are able to recognize the harm that is present there, but it feels like a simple, immature take just all on its own.

Oh and I definitely hate the take that Mystra groomed him. That makes me pretty sick, and it isn’t a one to one comparison at all. I sincerely doubt that was the writers intention at all, and as someone who was it makes me pretty mad to see. But I understand since most of those saying it are most likely children who don’t have a full grasp of it. Grooming is intentionally selecting a person with little to no agency, usually a child, and trying to influence them into inappropriate situations. I feel like comparing that dynamic to grooming demeans and lessens the importance of it in real life. Gale was not a child, he has agency in his life, and it’s cheapening even to the character to imply he had no control over what was happening to him. Unless I’m missing some crucial piece of lore here, I don’t think Mystra picked Gale as her chosen and romantic partner to make him find Karsus’ tome and unleash the magic that nearly killed her and destroyed all magic.

I get it, though, why young people jump to that conclusion. Again, I’m glad that they see the surface level issue. I’m glad they can recognize danger and harm. That’s good. I’d never discourage someone, especially children, in being vigilant with those sorts of things.

And of course all this said not so much in defense of Mystra (though I love her as a character) but more in defense of the people who wrote it. This game is so well written and it’s one of the reasons why I love it so much. The fact that I CAN write an essay for class about it makes me over the moon and goes to show just how much depth and meaning is present.