#i sometimes forget how young he is bc what do you mean its the last year of his ELC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

Text

—lunch box

A/N: just another cute idea i had because i’m obsessed with barbarian/dragon king!bakugo and fantasy shit in general. some context: you and bakugo are betrothed—although, sometimes you wish you weren’t bc he can be a real asshole. luckily for you, he’s willing to work on it bc he likes loves you just that much. a litte angst (it wouldn’t be a mtha story without it) but it ends in fluff <3

Warnings: cursing

Your friends looked at their food with heart eyes and dug into the neatly wrapped box with fever.

“Ahh! Thank you for making this, Y/N!” one of them exclaimed. The other could only nod in agreement, too into your cooking to speak.

You smiled and waved them off. “It was nothing. Consider it a thank you for letting me copy the homework last night,” you chuckled.

“Did you cook one for Prince Bakugo? I’d imagine he’d love it! If there’s anyone’s cooking he loves more than his own, it’s yours!”

At the mention of his name, your expression fell. You looked down at the case of food you had prepared for him as an apology.

Four days ago, you two were hanging around his residence. You managed to get him to dance around with you. Well, it more like you were dancing and he was doing his best not to combust in embarrassment. Katsuki warned you that you shouldn’t be too reckless otherwise you’d break something.

Of course, you paid him no mind, too enthralled with your fun to notice your proximity to a nearby statue—one of the Bakugo family’s treasures.

One thing led to another, and you knocked it over, shattering it before either of you could even react. Your rich skin lost its glow and your boyfriend cursed something nasty.

Least to say, his parents were not happy. But instead of being rightfully scolded, Bakugo had taken the blame for it.

They found him attempting to clean it up and assumed it was his fault. You wanted to correct them, but he threw you a nasty glare, sealing your mouth shut. He was now under punishment until they deemed fit and from then on, he hadn't spoken a friendly word to you.

A little sigh escaped your lips. Your two friends looked at each other before offering you encouraging smiles.

“Hey,” one spoke, placing a hand on your knee. You met her gaze. “You should go give it to him. He’d love it.”

There was a moment of silence before you decided to act. Taking the spur of confidence, you stood up and briskly made your way to the other classroom. Just before you entered, you heard his voice and felt your heart waver with anxiousness.

However, now wasn’t the time to let doubt consume you. Things wouldn’t get better until something was done.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, before opening the door and walking in. Your eyes scanned the room and found the young dragon prince amongst his group of friends.

Jaw set, you walked over to them, hands firmly around the packaged food.

Kirishima saw you first and gave you a friendly wave.

“Hey Princess L/N!”

“Hi boys! How’re ya doing?” you politely asked, putting on your best smile.

They gave you an upbeat answer that lifted your spirits.

Despite that, you hadn't heard a response from Bakugo. In fact, he hadn't even looked at you—but you wouldn’t be disheartened. You fueled herself with faux confidence and held out the dish to your betrothed.

“I-I made you something small yesterday, as an apology,” you stuttered.

Katsuki finally looked up, indifference in his stare. Ruby eyes flickered down to the box filled with rice, chicken, vegetables, and a small pastry on the side. His favorite kind. For a moment, he seemed like considered your offer, but you suffered the low blow of humiliation when he turned away to look through the window.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. Should’ve given it to me earlier.”

Something in your stomach fell. Crushing rejection blossomed up your throat with each passing second. His words were cold, harsh, and unforgiving. It might’ve been stupid, overdramatic even, but it hurt.

Heartbroken wasn’t even the word.

Your nose burned, eyes blurring before you could stop it. Your chest tightened with embarrassment. Luckily, you mustered enough strength to hold in whatever was threatening to crumble you.

“Oh,” you dumbly responded.

“I’ll take it!” Kaminari excitedly said.

“No, I will! I’m still starving!” Kirishima chided.

You placed the box down, struggling to keep up your act.

“Split it between the both of you. I hope it’s good!” You internally winced over how high your voice had become. “I’m gonna to get going now. I’ll see you guys after school, yeah?”

And before anything else was said, you bolted straight out of the room. You hadn’t bothered to look at Katsuki. Knowing him, he probably hadn't noticed the strain in your voice.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears flooded. You held your hands against your mouth, desperate to muffle your cries. You quickly took you into the nearest bathroom and you prayed no one had seen you lest there be questions. If you went to your friends, it’d cause a commotion. Your parents would eventually find out and you didn’t want any more problems.

So, you cried your eyes raw and eventually willed yourself to stop when it was time to return to class.

…

The week had gone by without another interaction. The weekend brought you some relief since you wouldn’t be forced to see Katsuki’s face for the time being. Or so you thought.

All you wanted to do was run some errands for your parents and then go back home and continue sulking. Yet the universe would not let you rest.

The moment you caught Bakugo’s eyes, you pivoted on your heel and booked it the other way. You assumed his anger with you would force him to keep his distance.

But you were thoroughly surprised to find he was following after you.

“Y/N,” he called.

Irritation and hurt filled your chest. You only walked faster, clutching the purse against her chest.

“Y/N, stop,” he demanded to which you promptly ignored.

This went on for a good thirty seconds until Bakugo decided he had enough. Without much noise, he ran up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder.

You weren’t having it.

You harshly shrugged off his hand. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, keeping your eyes forward.

“I need to talk to you,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you. So maybe some other time.”

Truthfully, the crowned prince found himself shocked at your coldness. Despite your innate boldness, he wasn’t used to such an icy tone. Especially directed at him.

His father warned him to never attack in these situations, but Bakugo let his temper get the best of him. His first reaction was to frown and deal back harsher words.

“What’s your fucking problem, dumbass? When I say stop, stop!”

A spike of anger flooded your veins. You whirled around on your heel and glared at him with frosty eyes. You felt compelled to drop your papers and slap him, but instead, you settled for a finger in his face.

“First of all, I’m not some dog you can just order around, you jerk! And just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean I’m some girl you can treat like dirt whenever you feel like it! Until you apologize, leave me alone because my only problem right now is you. Bye.”

And just as quickly as you came, you turned to leave.

Now Bakugo was actually stunned. Forget, cold, this was a side of you he hadn't ever experienced. Admittedly, he hadn’t been spoken to like that from anyone besides his mother—and she only got away with it because she was not only the queen…but he was his mom.

Katsuki honestly didn’t know how to handle it. It was only then that he concentrated back on his father’s advice. Whenever his mother was upset with his dad, his father would fight back, but never with emotional anger. Always with humbleness and an understanding tongue.

It usually did the trick considering his mother could never stay upset with him for more than a night. It always struck the teen with hidden awe. Sometimes, Katsuki thought his dad was an angel.

Bakugo was no angel, but he hoped it’d have the same affect on you.

The blonde teen softened his face and walked up behind you. He stopped you, wrapping his arms around your waist to lie his forehead against the decorated braids the fell down your back.

“Damn it. I’m sorry okay?” he lowly said, face burning from such a public display of affection. “Just hear me out.”

You didn’t speak and he clenched his jaw.

“Please.”

You inwardly cursed your rapidly beating heart. If it weren’t for how stupidly nice being in his arms was (he was definitely working out more), and the fact that you found him kinda cute begging for your permission, maybe you wouldn’t have caved in so easily.

For now, you’d blame it on the fact that you two were destined to wed. It was better to start dealing with fights now so, hopefully, the future held less of them.

You heaved a sigh, unwillingly ignoring your body’s urge to curl in his arms. Instead, you pulled away and turned to face him. You peered into unsure crimson eyes with as much harshness you could conjure.

“Fine. Speak,” you permitted.

There was a small pause as he gathered his thoughts. When he opened his mouth, you instantly regretted it.

“I’m still mad at you for being dumb and breaking one of family’s treasures. And I’m still fucking pissed that my old hag is on my ass about it,” he started and noticed how your eyes narrowed in contempt.

You were about to turn away, thinking this was a waste of time. However, Bakugo took a hold of your wrist before you could leave.

“Leave me alone! If you didn’t want to get in trouble, you should’ve just let me take the blame. I can't believe I thought you’d apologize—“

“Let me finish, princess.”

It was your title, yet you felt your stomach flip when it came from his lips. You refused to let it influence you…but you’d give him another chance.

Bakugo stepped closer to you. “I’m upset, but I took the punishment because I wanted to. You didn’t mean to break it. Accidents happen, I understand that.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then, you softened your gaze a bit, eyes still lit with inquiry. “Why? Why would you do that if it meant getting in trouble? I could’ve taken the blame just fine.”

“Y/N, you freak the fuck out whenever you don’t get a perfect score on an exam. You try not to mess up and when you do, it’s like the world is ending,” he explained with a teasing smirk. You ungracefully snorted. He had a point. “When you broke the vase, I could hear your heart drop. You were two seconds away from crying. And when I saw how scared you looked I just—I don’t know.”

The look on your face was something between shock, surprise, and wonder. You blinked, thick lips parting slightly in awe.

“Katsuki…” you breathed to which the boy heavily blushed. Realizing how sappy he sounded, his mind screamed at him to cut it out.

Bakugo looked down and noticed he was still holding your wrist. He quickly let go and instinctively rubbed the nape of his neck.

“D-don’t be dramatic. I just didn’t wanna see you moping around or some shit. My father said that it wasn’t that important anyway…the vase I mean,” he mumbled.

Sure it wasn’t, you thought. What were you gonna do with this boy?

You supposed an apology was a good start.

“That was very nice and admirable of you Katsuki. Thank you,” you eventually said. “I’m still really sorry about the vase, and for being mean to you just now.”

He shook his head. “I know, but I’m the one that should be apologizing. I ain’t hafta treat you the way I did. I was being an ass for not accepting the food you made for me earlier.”

“Yeah you were, ya bastard.”

He chuckled at that. “The two idiots wouldn’t stop raving over how good it was.”

“Well, I had the best teacher in the kingdom,” you grinned.

“And I had an even better student,” he winked.

Your smile widened. Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

You couldn’t help yourself when you heartily embraced him, enjoying how his arms slowly slithered around the small of your back. Your eyes met and you kissed him on the lips, leaving him with a little gasp. You pulled away and giggled under your breath.

“You know, you're a sweet guy underneath all that false bravado.”

“False brav—what the hell are you going on about!?”

Ignoring his explosive behavior, you readjusted the straps on your shoulder before turning on your heel.

“Don’t bring anything for lunch on Monday, okay? I’ll see you later, blondie.”

Despite his little tantrum, Bakugo still watched you disappear into the store with a gentle expression. You gave him more headaches than he cared for, but you were worth it. Besides, he was sure you could say the same for him.

Bakugo turned to leave and passed his fingertips over where your lips touched his own.

He’d never admit to the giddiness in his chest. He’d take that shit to the grave.

#mha #bnha fics #bakugo x black reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x poc!reader #mha fics #bakugo brain rot activated #barbarian bakugou #dragon king bakugo #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x reader

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akumaalert · 3 years ago

Note

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heavy metal lover #divergence #good boy #asks #the alcina bit is carried over to hml #i can see her doing cute salon days with the kids #heisenberg complains about it now #but then?#highlight of his little emo life #smut

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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lunaastoir · 4 years ago

Text

cute things i think the genshin characters would do

characters included: diluc, kaeya, venti, and albedo

****minor lore spoilers for diluc!****

an: i’m thinking of making this into a series bc this was such an adorable concept to write so lmk if you’re interested 👀 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

diluc

sorry kind of starting off with something a little sad

i think diluc would have a habit of rubbing his vision

ok seems kinda dumb at first but let me elaborate:

after the death of his father, diluc was quite obviously devastated

he basically withdrew into himself after letting all the grief, pain, and rage flood his senses

i think during this time of grieving, he would’ve developed this habit of running the pads of his fingers across his vision to calm himself down

(v similar to katara from atla)

since his father had always been proud of diluc’s vision, the thought of touching something that reminded him of his father has always been able to bring him some sort of relief no matter how short lived

it serves as a constant memory of his dad and i think being able to have that kind of connection - no matter how small would hold a significance to him

stressed? you’ll see his fingers dance across his vision as the crease between his eyebrows gradually loosens

ok here’s a bonus habit (bc the previous one was sad)

whenever he’s bartending at angel’s share, he always flips the bottles in this cool bartending way before pouring the drinks

like the whole shabang - flips in the air, shakes it in a way that the drink foams just right

people are usually v surprised when they see this bc woah mans has got some sKILLS

but also bc he’s known for being pretty serious and reserved so seeing a “trick” is kind of breaking the stoic image they have of him

after he’s done pouring the drinks he’s also really precise about closing the bottles

he makes sure that the caps are on tightly and that nothing is leaking (which ig is another reason why he does flips with them so he can make sure that the bottles are tightly closed)

yes he’s rich but he also wants to make sure the drinks don’t go bad bc 1) kind of a loss if they do and 2) his customers deserve the best

sweet man pls protect him <3

kaeya

when he’s sitting down at his desk, he brings his legs up so he can sit on his chair criss- cross applesauce

since he’s in his office and the only other person who’s in there with him is jean, he feels like he can drop the suave, charming cavalry captain facade he puts on when he’s in public and just dial it down slightly to who he really is in that moment

jean doesn’t say a word the entire time even tho she quite obviously notices

don’t get me wrong, he’s still the smooth talking kaeya but just,,, more relaxed and comfortable?? if that makes sense

so since he’s a lot more comfortable in his office, he usually folds his legs into his chair bc damn they hurt from walking around all day

this is kinda dumb but i also think he has a lot of ink stains on his hands from writing so whenever he sees a fresh one he just likes to stamp it onto a piece of paper

usually that piece of paper ends up being an unimportant report that goes to jean

dw he also has a bunch of pretty small towels in his bottom drawer that he uses to wipe his hands on bc the public can’t see the pretty cavalry captain w ink stains!! the world would end!!

oH kind of a side note but i also think he would keep a small folded up picture of something klee drew him in his pocket

he thinks it’s very sweet and he periodically takes it out just to look at it soft for this man

last one for kaeya but since he wears boots that have the little lip on the bottom (not really a heel but enough to make some noise) he makes sure to always try his best to walk quietly around the streets of mondstadt at night

if anyone catches him doing it he’ll wave it off and say something like “oh me? i’m just practicing my stealth - it comes in handy when you have to sneak up on enemies you know?” but in reality that’s just bs

he really just doesn’t wanna risk waking people up <3

venti

this adorable man is obviously notorious for drinking

he loves alcohol!! i mean he’s the anemo archon of the city of wine and freedom so is anyone really surprised 💀

anyways venti always jokes abt not having any mora (he really doesn’t he’s not wrong) but he always makes sure to pay his tab at angel’s share

the only reason diluc lets him drink sm is because at the end of the day, venti always comes through w the mora

he really is a talented bard so everything he makes in singing and composing music for other people to listen to always goes straight to angel’s share (debatable if that’s for the best or not but i’ll leave that one to you)

so yeah <3 basically venti pays back his tabs even tho he’s an archon since he doesn’t want people to experience a loss bc of him

it’s the archon nature coming out but also the venti nature bc he’s a sweet boy

anyways getting onto the actual habit 🕺

he has a tendency to skip/hop regardless of wherever he’s going

he uses his anemo elemental skill a lot while doing this just he can feel a light breeze whenever he skips around

i also think he carries around extra bard strings in his hat bc he thinks it’s a cool party trick to take them out and be like tada i have extra strings no need to worry!!!

people are usually not that amused but he does it anyway

also yeah uh those strings sometimes fall out when he’s skipping 💀

he’ll be hopping and suddenly bOOM they fall out, he loses them, a kitten by the name of prince takes them, and he has to ask for help to find his strings (i believe this is exactly how venti lost his strings to prince during the windblume festival and no i will not take any criticism and if venti says something different he is lying 🔪)

also has a habit of putting his hair into a bun sometimes!!!

he loves his pigtails but he finds that he gets bored of them occasionally and his hair needs a break from its wavy tresses so he just plops it into a bun instead

so so cute 10/10 hairstyle he can do my hair

anyways love this man thanks for coming home <3

albedo

i had a feeling i would kind of have a hard time w albedo since he is a little hard to read so i hope this is ok LMFAO

he has paint stains. everywhere. no you cannot change my mind.

they are subtle tho i will give him that

you can’t notice that anything is amiss until you really pay attention and then you’ll start to see the pretty pastels and greens of the sunset he was painting up on dragonspine softly smeared across his clothes

very rarely you’ll see a cute swipe of paint across his cheek or neck and it’s honestly adorable

he was probably pushing his hair out of his face while he was painting and some excess paint on his finger landed on his cheek :,)

he doesn’t really care tbh he thinks it’s just a part of him and it really isn’t that noticeable so he just leaves it

also!!! since he is a big alchemist and he’s constantly working on labs and experiments i think he would accidentally misplace a lot of his written work

he seems very organized but w someone as intellectual as him w his brain running miles a minute, i’m sure he has definitely forgotten where he’s put stuff away

so!! in order to help him remember, he has little notes across his lab detailing where everything is

if he was working on something and he immediately has to put it on hold bc something came up (klee came in demanding attention or sucrose needs help) then he’ll quickly jot down a note and stick it to his desk so he’ll remember when he comes back just in case he forgets

sucrose as a result has noticed A LOT of notes across the lab and it’s simultaneously funny and endearing

“started experiment with sweet flowers to try and turn them into a youth elixir: papers --> on the desk right next to klee’s photo”

final point: he lets klee braid his hair sometimes if she wants to

she doesn’t really know how given how young she is so she ends up messing up but albedo always walks her patiently through the steps again

always makes time for klee no matter what bc he really does care a lot abt her :,)

i love him sm pls

#diluc #kaeya #venti #albedo #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin venti #genshin albedo #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One.

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of wtsgd! i’m so excited for you all to read this story and for what’s to come. please please please support content creators bc we’re doing this for free and it takes up a lot of energy to put out stories. so reblog, leave feedback, and send a message to motivate and support them. happy reading everyone <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 6.4k

come talk to me about wtsgd! i’d love to know your thoughts!

March 4, 2017

The trunk was filled with heavy boxes that were labeled with thick black sharpie, which didn’t seem to leave Luciana’s senses; and one too many suitcases filled with her many articles of clothing that she couldn’t get rid of—no matter how hard she tried—since she was too much of a hoarder and every piece of clothing seemed to have a lost memory in them that she tried very hard to think of, which only meant that it was worth keeping.

A droplet of sweat leaked down the side of her face due to her nonstop packing and heavy-lifting from her childhood room upstairs to her dad’s car in the driveway. It didn’t help that the sun was beaming down at her with every move like she was on center stage, in front of the spotlight, but it made much more sense for the sun to do that because that’s where she belonged: on stage.

Moving to Brooklyn, New York from Cambridge, Massachusetts during, what felt like, the coldest but the sunniest day of March wasn’t the smartest move—to be fair, Luciana was never one to make a smart move, anyways—but it was one that needed to be done. Plus, all the lifting seemed to have warmed her up.

Her destination, or now, home, in New York was one that she’d been anticipating for a while now. She had auditioned for the role as Kim in Miss Saigon on Broadway in November, and she’d gotten a callback in January for the role as the second Kim, meaning she would be on rotation to perform every week or two weeks, so the main Kim could rest. But she would still have to go to rehearsals and be on the side of the stage watching the show just in case she needed to jump in at the last minute.

It wasn’t her ideal way of playing the main lead, but nonetheless, she was grateful for the opportunity, and she would take any chance that was thrown at her to not only take another step towards her dream, but also another learning opportunity to make her a better actress.

Little Luci would’ve been so proud of the present Luci because it’d been her dream ever since she was younger, to be on stage and eventually, be on the big screen. Although she was far from completing her dream of being a face in Hollywood, this was a step that would take her to where she wanted to be in the future, and for that, she was proud of herself.

As a child, Luci had been in various commercials; from being the kid that played with slime and had no lines but to just put on a big smile while the sticky substance ran through her small hands, to being the daughter in a car commercial with one line that said “Are we there yet?” with a groan and a face of exhaustion as if she were the one driving the car. She hoped that these commercials would have someone recognize her talent, to cast her as a Disney star, but that would require moving to California, which her parents were wary of.

The commercials stopped when she reached middle school. Her early adolescent years consisted of an abundance of attitude and mood swings; Luci was a very tough and determined kid. Her love for acting had grown into a big balloon that was let go and on its way into the galaxy where no one could reach it—where no one could mess with her achieving her dream.

She would always stand in front of her white wooden framed mirror—with delicately painted colorful flowers around the border—reciting lines that she heard from a television series or the films that she watched, and she would write them down in her blue notebook. Sometimes, her parents would let her search the script up if it was available online. But oftentimes, she would test and challenge her memorization, and listen to it by ear; testing her mind, and eventually, her memorization skills were immaculate by the age of eleven.

It was perfect timing because by the time she was in middle school, she was able to snatch the roles she wanted when her school’s drama department held school plays. Her family thought that she would start to hate being on stage since school plays always ran until late evening, but being part of the productions had only enhanced her love for her talent, and it only prepared her for a quarter of what her future may look like.

All in all, from a very young age, she always knew that she wanted to become an actress. The spotlight or the center of the camera was where she always craved to be.

And she was finally making that dream come true.

A black Toyota Camry pulled into the space behind the car that was filled with her belongings. Ren and Beatrice, Luci’s lovely parents, both get out of the car with a pink box of donuts—a snack for the road and for when she gets to her new apartment.

“Ready, Lucky?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. She was quite bummed to see Luci leave her childhood home, but she’s proud to see Lucky Luci chase her dreams. She was, after all, twenty-five and was bound to move out at some point, but to see it actually happen made Beatrice quite emotional.

“Ma, please, don’t cry…” Luci frowned as Beatrice pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder, comforting her. “You’re all coming to New York in a month, right? To watch me on stage?” Luci asked, reassuring herself that she would see her family in a different state to rescue her from her loneliness.

Luci was an independent woman. She could do tasks by herself, go places alone, and she wouldn’t have a problem with it; she enjoyed the company of herself. But to know that at some point she might be alone—that everyone had left her behind or forgotten about her—was what scared her. She needed to know that the people who loved her unconditionally wouldn’t forget about her.

“Of course we’re going!” Ren exclaimed with a smile that Luci was going to miss seeing everyday. “We can’t miss our baby on the Broadway stage. If we could, we’d go to every damn show that you’re in, but that would be a lot of gas, no?”

She chuckled, nodding her head. She felt tears pricking her eyes at how supportive her parents were—they’ve always been. If she could, she would take them with her to New York, but her one bedroom apartment and their work said otherwise.

“Now, Lucky, don’t cry.” It was Beatrice’s turn to comfort her daughter. Like any parent, when they see their child cry, it breaks their heart and they cry too. “We’re gonna see you real soon. You can always come back anytime you want. We’re just a phone call away and we’ll pick you up,” Beatrice said between sniffles. The mother and daughter were embracing so tenderly and comfortingly—enjoying every last moment together until they got to see each other again.

“Jeez, you’re both the same—always crying!” Ren interrupted, making the two women laugh; and he was glad they found what he said amusing because he couldn’t handle the sad moment. “C’mon here, my Lulu.” Luci settled into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. She’s always been her dad’s girl, despite having a close relationship with her mother, her relationship with her father was something that felt like home; he always knew what to say and when to say it. It helped that she was the female version of him. “You’re gonna be the best star out there, I’m sure of it. Now, I want you to have fun, alright? The fame, the fortune, the big city…it doesn’t amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life” He comfortingly rubbed Luci’s back, holding her in a warm and tight squeeze.

Luci smiled at her father’s words. She was always a bit hard on herself when she would mess up or forget a line or a movement that correlates to a specific line in her script. When she was younger, she would beat herself up for a sliver of a moment; she would cry into her pillow—sobs loud enough that they were heard from downstairs. Luci would think that she wouldn’t become a well-known actress just because of the minor forgetfulness her mind had presented. But Ren would gently tap on her ocean blue door, letting himself in because he knew his daughter didn’t have the energy to get up and let him in, and he would sit beside her, gently urging her to sit up with him. Once she complied, after many groans of refusals, she would be glad she did because her father looked deeply into her eyes—and it was like looking into the reflection of clear and clean water—and told her she was a star. It was only three words, but those three words reminded her to never give up and get up when she would hit the pavement of what she felt like were her fallen hopes and dreams.

Ren would then end it with a statement of advice that had always lingered in her mind, resonating to the silent and harshful words that she tells herself. ‘Nothing will amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life.’

A rush of gratitude settled upon her as her eyes became glossier by the seconds she was in Ren’s arms. Beatrice looked at her greatest treasures fondly, a smile appeared on her face only for it to be replaced by a look of confusion.

“Where is that damn brother of yours? He said he was going to be here at ten!” Beatrice interrupted the sweet moment she was having with her father, making them disconnect from the hug—just as Ren did with Luci and Beatrice.

Speaking of the devil, her dear brother was making his way towards home on the side of the street, wearing a grey sweatshirt that was stained with his sweat as his earphones were nestled in his ears, loudly playing music. He loudly sang along to some rap song, breath staggered as he rapped along with his hands.

Nathan smiled once he stepped foot onto the driveway as he took out his earphones, seeing his family look at him vigilantly. Luci laughed, shaking her head.

“Hey, there’s our superstar, little Ana!” Nathan opened his arms, ready to hug you but she quickly stopped him, curving her spine backwards to deny his hug. Ana had been one of the many nicknames her family had called her when she was growing up from the second half of her name, but Ana seemed to have stuck with Nathan as no one else really called her that, so it was his own personal nickname for her.

“Ew, please, do not hug me.” Her face wrinkled in disgust from the spell of her brother’s sweat from his run. Nathan chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before turning towards his parents.

“Ooh, donuts-”

Beatrice slapped the back of his hand before he even got a chance to open the pink donut box. “Not until you shower and change. Lulu needs to be in Brooklyn by three!”

“Ow, mother!” Nathan whipped his hand away from Beatrice’s burning slap, although he was just playing around and being dramatic. “But fine, alright. The star always gets what she wants, am I right?” He dropped his head towards Luci, sighing before he hurried inside the house to take a quick shower and change.

Luci giggled, telling her parents that she would be right back to go up to her room to check if she’d gotten everything, even though she knew that she had everything, she just needed to reminisce alone for a moment.

Her feet took her up the wooden stairs, where she, for some unknown reason, always spent her time sitting on as she leaned her back against the wall and read or drew. Nathan always found it weird of her when they were doing homework when they were younger, but it was just one of the many fun anecdotes he could tell reporters if he’s asked about their childhood.

Pushing open her ocean blue door that she never changed because she loved the color, she was met with the emptiness of what was once her sanctuary. Despite the paint on the wall changing, the replacement of furniture, and rearrangement of her childhood room, Luci could still see the baby pink walls where she hung up various posters of her celebrity crushes when she was eight. She could still see herself walking over to her Cinderella white wooden dresser as she pulled out an inflatable microphone from her drawer before she walked over to her bed to sing her heart out with her cousin. In the corner of her room was her mirror that she painted colorful flowers along the border when she was younger, and she definitely did not want to change or get rid of it; it wasn’t difficult to stir up a memory when she was in front of that mirror because up until now, she was always reciting her lines to her own reflection until the late night.

All of these memories that Luci held within her heart would help her ground herself—remind her where she came from. No matter where her career took her, she would always be the girl that was firstly known in her room, crying, laughing, and acting within the four baby pink walls until she was sixteen, and then it changed to an ecru white. The feeling of nostalgia clutched her chest, and for the second time today—not even noon, yet—she found herself crying.

She silently sobbed in her sanctuary. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was grasping onto the memories, begging her to not leave, to not move on. But moving on would mean being stuck, and she didn’t want to feel stuck—she just never wanted to be in one place where the walls would slowly feel like they were closing in on her. She didn’t want to be in one place and eventually hated it, so for that, she had to move on.

A soft knock was heard from the outside of her bedroom, making Luci turn around hastily. She found Beatrice standing in the doorway, warmly smiling at her daughter, and keeping the tears at bay because she needed the comfort of her mother more than her mother’s tears.

“My Lucky Star…” Beatrice walked into the room, welcoming Luci into her arms. “You okay?”

Luci deeply inhaled and exhaled as she calmed herself down from her cries. “I’m alright. It’s just hard saying goodbye to this place—to my room.”’

“Oh, Lulu. You don’t need to say goodbye. I know you’ll be coming back here soon, anyways. I know you love home too much to completely stay away.” Beatrice was subtly trying to remind Luci about her love for her hometown, for her home, but her words also were trying to remind her about that certain love for her home and to never forget that love so she doesn’t stray away because Beatrice was simply afraid Luci would never want to come back once she discovered the luxury of her career. And even though she knew her Lulu wasn’t one to forget about her family, Beatrice would never admit her fear.

Luci sniffled, wiping her tears away as she pulled away from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, I know. Just…doesn’t feel real that I’m leaving.”

“Sure, you’re leaving, but you’re going off to do bigger and better things. You were never one to stay in one place, physically and mentally—you were always moving, always loved learning more. And I’ve always been so intrigued and interested in how your mind works.”

“Ma…” The waterworks seemed to be the highlight of the move.

“I’m serious! I’m so genuinely proud of you. You’ve been keeping your talent—and I don’t mean ‘high school plays’ talent. I mean your Broadway, Hollywood, Academy winning talent. Now, you get to showcase your light in front of thousands of people.” Beatrice always had a way of boosting Luci’s self-esteem, making her ego a tad bit more bigger than it already was. She didn’t mind if her self-esteem had skyrocketed into the galaxy of her dreams, but she always reminded Luci that being humble and kind always outweighed being obnoxious and arrogant. “Now, enough with these tears. You’ve got a road trip to New York. C’mon, now.”

They made their way downstairs and out the door where Ren and Nathan were talking about the latest basketball game of the Celtics. The trunk was closed, and the only thing waiting was Luci herself.

“There she is! Ready?”

Luci took a deep breath, turning her head to look back at the pastel yellow house that had kept her safe for the past twenty-five years. From here, she knew everything was going to change. Whether it’d be for the good or if things would go downhill from here? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she was going to be doing what she loved and she was going to have the time of her life doing it.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

The state of Connecticut seemed to pass by quickly from the car as Nathan drove at a decent seventy miles per hour; the state vanished just as quickly as when they entered.

Luci mindlessly looked out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at once as she drowned out the music playing through the speakers of the car and Nathan’s voice singing along.

The cars passing by, the bystanders, and the locals filled the streets and highways, making her wonder what all of these people’s stories were—wondering if they lived in this city or if they were just stopping by to visit, or if they’re just going through the state to get to the one next door just as she was. Maybe she’s had an encounter or simply passed by them on the street in a world that seemed too large but small at the same time. She always pondered on whether everyone else thought the way she thought—if they wondered what her story was or the people around them.

The world is an interesting place and there were so many intriguing people out there, making her more excited by the minute as she takes on this new adventure in her life that would be completely life changing. Luci’s going to be meeting so many new people that, she would hope, have an impact on her personal life or career.

“Nervous?” Nathan broke the comfortable silence between them.

Luci raised her brows and curled her lips into her mouth. “A bit.”

He nodded, thinking for a moment. Nathan was always one to think before he spoke, and it was a quality that some people needed to learn how to do. He quickly learned that lesson when he was in high school; one of his friends, Johnny, and him were going back and forth joking around with one another. And for some odd reason, teenage boys liked to joke around about fucking everything, so Nathan had said “Yeah, I fucked your mom, what about it?” without thinking. Johnny stayed silent, the rest of their friends were waiting for his comeback, but they only received tears that glossed over his eyes before he ran off to a different part of campus, away from the lunch tables. Nathan found him behind the orchestra building with his face pressed on his kneecaps, crying. Later, he found out that Johnny’s mother had passed away before their sophomore year started and he hadn’t told anyone, which left Nathan quite speechless, but it was a lesson that he learned: to think before anything comes out of his mouth.

“I know you’ll do great. You were born to do this, born to be on stage. Everything you do is to greater your experience and opportunities. All the mistakes you’re gonna make, which we both know you’re gonna make, they’re gonna be learning lessons for you to continue doing what you’re good at doing; the mistakes are there so you can better yourself,” he reassured, occasionally glancing at you briefly before averting his eyes back onto the highway.

Luci smiled, never taking her eyes off her older brother. She leaned closer to the middle console, where his right arm was resting on the padded console. Hugging his arm tightly and resting her cheek on his shoulder, she accepted and appreciated his advice, his words. They made her heart fill up with so much gratitude and love, insanely grateful and happy that she had such an amazing and supportive family who always knew the right things to say when they could sense her nerves and anxieties powering through the roof.

“You’re gonna kill it out there. This is just a step towards where you wanna go, where you actually wanna be.”

She nodded, looking to her right as they quickly passed the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign from the state line of Connecticut and New York, and it was the sign indicating her new home.

Nathan pulled into the apartment’s parking garage, entering in with the code that the complex gave Luci on the silver keypad as the two watched the automatic gate arm swing up to the side, and Nathan entered the parking structure, parking in one of the many spaces available.

Luci excitedly got out of the car, rushing to the trunk where Nathan had opened it from inside the car. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to bring the hand dolly to help carry the boxes, which meant that the siblings were going to have to carry the many boxes she packed by her own hand and strength. But luckily, some of them weren’t that heavy; most of the items in the brown boxes were kitchenware and she figured she could just drag those.

One by one, they took one box each and headed for the elevator, where it took them to her apartment floor—floor four. Luci grabbed the keys from her purse that contained two copper keys hanging on one single silver loop and a small keyless sensor, and she unlocked her navy blue door, revealing her new apartment.

When she entered, she was met with a door across the entrance that she would use for her coats and shoes, things that she would need when she’s rushing out the door. Going through the small hallway in from the entrance, it led her to another small hallway to her left where her bedroom and guest bathroom was; and to her right, it would take her to the kitchen and living space. With four big windows with black window frames, the natural light really came in, making her place brighter for saving electricity.

Walking in and putting the boxes against the black cabinets in the kitchen, she immediately fell in love with the space, her space. Despite already taking a tour of the apartment a few months prior to her official move in day, it felt different being there for the second time because she now knew that this place was hers. She saw it in a different light, and she was already anticipating the memories she was going to make in her new home. The place was empty; and with every step and every noise from her mouth, the room would echo, and she loved it. There was something satisfying about the echo in an empty space that was hers, like she wanted to furnish the hell out of it, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the echo.

“This is your new home.” Nathan put an arm around Luci’s shoulder. He got a bit emotional seeing his baby sister grow up and move away from home, but he was excited for all of the experiences and memories she was going to make. Luci looked up at him, not saying anything but smiling as she was speechless. Nathan could practically feel the excitement run through her and all he did was chuckle at her speechlessness. “C’mon, let’s go get the rest of the boxes.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Luci and Nathan hauled the boxes from the car, to the elevator, and down the hallway to her apartment. There were about four more boxes left in the trunk, and they would’ve been finished by now if they hadn’t been taking breaks.

Nathan’s phone rang as he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets of the kitchen across from Luci who was sitting in the corner where her dining table would be.

“Hello?” Answered Nathan. “What? Tonight? I’m in New York. I’m helping my little sister move here. Uh, okay. Sure. Bye.” He groaned, standing up.

“Who was that?” Luci asked, nosy as she was.

“That was one of the board members at Mass General Hospital.” Luci’s eyes widened. “They just asked me if I could come in tonight to teach and supervise the new residents.” Nathan was a general doctor working in the Emergency Room as Mass General back in Boston. He’s always wanted to teach with all the knowledge he’s stored in his brain—always wanting someone to learn a thing or two when they spoke to him, and this was his chance.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Nate!” Luci stood up, excited for him.

He started to breathe a bit heavily and Luci immediately took notice; she could practically feel the nerves coming out of him, the same nerves she felt while going in for an audition. “Yeah, I actually have to leave, like, right now.”

“Hey, hey.” She quickly stopped him from running out of the building and out of his mind. “Come here—breathe with me for a second.” She held onto his wrists gently.

“Luci, I have to-”

He pulled away, but she tugged him back. “You’re going to drive yourself through the highway, and who knows what will happen, you might get pulled over and you won’t make it to the hospital. So, just take sixty seconds to breathe with me.”

For the remainder of the time that they had together, they took some deep breaths. She spoke encouraging and uplifting words to him to calm down his nerves and anxieties that he seemed to drive himself over a cliff for, and it seemed to work as Nathan’s shoulder’s weren’t so tense and the grip on her hands had loosened.

The two of them walked down to the parking garage where Nathan took down the last four boxes and placed them by the entrance of the complex. He was adamant on helping her get the last few boxes up to her apartment, but she shrugged it off, telling him that she was able to carry them and that he needed to leave because he’s most likely going to hit traffic during rush hour.

“Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it. I will drive here in a heartbeat.”

“I will, I will-”

“Just not tonight,” he joked. “This is the highlight of my career.” His smile was so bright that it was like he was a little kid on Christmas again who just received a Hot Speed set from Santa.

Luci laughed, hugging him goodbye. “And call me if you need anything too. I’ll miss seeing you everyday,” she admitted, a slight frown on her face. She thought she’d have the entire day with Nathan, but it was cut short due to his work but she wasn’t mad about that at all because she knew there'd be plenty of times when he would drive down to walk along the New York streets and see her perform.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Ana. But I love you and I’ll see you next month!” He hurried into his car, and Luci watched him as he pulled out of the driveway, waving at the rear view mirror to say one last ‘see you later’ to his little sister.

Walking back to the curb where all of the boxes were set, Luci picked one up to test how heavy it was and she barely made it upright without almost hurting her back, so she put the box down to take a proper breather. She decided to drag the box closer to the door of the complex—which saved her a few steps without completely dropping the box that was labeled ‘glass plates’—and pulled the handle of the door, only to find it completely locked. There was a slight panic that flew through her until she realized that she needed her keyless tag that she had to press against the pad on the wall to get inside the complex, so she blew out a sigh of relief before reaching down to her pocket for her key, and with just her luck, her keys weren’t in her pocket or with her at all. Then she started to panic again.

Luci quickly walked out of the parking garage and to the front of the building where the leasing office was to find them closed, which was odd because it was Saturday, but apparently their servers were down so they just decided to take the entire day off. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, walking back to the garage in a fast manner because she didn’t want anyone to take her boxes, and so she figured that she could just wait until someone left the complex or arrived. She even left her phone at her place, so it wasn’t like she could call anyone to help her, but some sort of entertainment would help the time go by quicker.

Sitting on the curb in the garage, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, and humming the melody from the Miss Saigon soundtrack, an hour goes by until she sees someone walk past the automatic gate barrier, heading towards the entrance where he opened the door with his tag. Luci sprinted towards the door, calling out for help.

“Wait, wait!” The man turned around confusingly, taking his AirPod out of one ear. She caught up, taking deep breaths as she waved at the man. “Sorry, I’ve been out here for an hour and I completely forgot my key.” He didn’t say anything but stared at her, wondering why he’s never seen this woman before. The apartment complex really only had four floors, and he’s sure that he’s seen everyone who’s lived here. She noticed that he looked down at the boxes and back at her. “Oh, I just moved in.” He nodded more understandingly. “Do you mind holding the door for me?”

“Sure.” Was the first thing he told her before stepping aside to hold the door. She took another deep breath, getting into the correct form so she doesn’t throw her back out, and began to lift the heavy box. He noticed her struggling, and he felt foolish for not offering his help in the first place when he noticed the four boxes on the cement. “Here, sorry, let me help with that. Get the door, yeah?” Luci’s heart flipped once she heard his deep, accented voice before she gratefully thanked him and he grabbed the box from her, replacing her hands with his and the slightest brush of their fingers made her flustered; he held the box tightly to his chest without much struggle.

“Yeah, let me just get this one.” Luci grabbed a much lighter box that had all of her shoes, and held the door for him with her foot as he made his way inside of the building and to the elevator. He pressed the button with the arrow pointing up, and luckily, they didn’t have to wait for more than five seconds before the bell at the top chimed and the stainless steel doors opened.

With the heavy box in his hands, he still let Luci walk in first, which made her smile and he followed in as she pressed with the bold ‘4’ printed on it. He held the box in between his chest and the other end of the bar on the wall as they waited in silence as the elevator lifted them up to her apartment floor, and she brushed past him when he lifted his arm, gesturing her to go first.

Her front door was closed but it was unlocked, which only made sense, so she opened her door, putting the box next to the entrance and politely asking the man to put it next to the one you put down.

“Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.”

“It’s no problem. I was the same when I moved here too—forgot my keys and was locked out.” He related to make her feel lighter about the situation since it was an honest mishap.

“Did you go to the leasing office?” She asked curiously.

“Yeah, but they were closed.”

“They’re closed today too! It’s like they do that on purpose whenever someone new moves in.” The man chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

She hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since she was too distracted by trying to get into her building, but just by one real look at him, he was very attractive—probably too attractive to where she couldn’t think straight. He was wearing a pastel yellow and white striped button down that was a bit flowy and open, showing his white tank underneath that was tucked into his black skinny jeans. His tank top was low enough, exposing a patch of chest hair and his necklace that rested against his skin, in between his swallow tattoos just below his collarbones. Rings hugged his long fingers on both hands as he held two brown paper bags from Trader Joes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and she felt like she was going to compare his beauty to all the other men that she was going to encounter in the future.

“They’re not very good at going into work, but if you give them a call then it’s like they’re a 24/7 help center.”

Luci nodded, chuckling. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ll help you with the last boxes.” Before she was about to protest and tell him that he didn’t have to help her anymore because she was sure the last ones were light, he made his way towards the elevator and she quickly followed.

To her surprise, one of the boxes was heavier than the other and she was glad that the man was able to carry it for her. They took the boxes up to her apartment, stacking it on top of the ones that were set down before she thanked him gratefully again.

“I really appreciate all your help.” She smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not that I’m doubting your strength or anything, but how were you supposed to get those boxes up to your apartment?” He asked softly, not wanting to offend her by his words.

“Oh, my brother was supposed to help me, but he had to go back home for an emergency at work.” The man nodded, seeming that was the most acceptable answer, not like he was searching if she was lying. “But thank you for your help. You’re a true lifesaver,” she said with a soft smile on her face. Her tone was a bit flirty than she wanted it to be, but it naturally came out.

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you around.” Luci hadn’t closed her door yet, but she found out that he was literally her neighbor on the opposite side of the wall. He didn’t even have to take two steps to get to his place—all he had to do was turn around and he was home. She smiled at the thought of that, glad that her neighbor was already so kind to her.

As he was fumbling with his keys, he eventually got his door unlocked, and Luci was itching to ask what his name was—maybe make her first friend during her first day living in the big city. The man felt his neighbor's eyes on him, burning through the back of his head, so he turned around at the same time she spoke.

“Uh, hey,” Luci called out. He was looking over his shoulder, pursing his lips as he raised his brows. “I was wondering if…you’d like to have dinner with me tonight? Y’know, to thank you for all your help and practically saving me while I was stranded.” She chuckled, playing with the tips of her fingers as she looked at him with hope.

He thought the invitation was nice, but…“It’s okay, really. I, uh, have plans already tonight,” he admitted honestly because he doesn’t make a habit of being dishonest.

Luci had some thick skin—she grew it throughout the years, and she had always been pretty confident. So many people would think that she could handle rejection well because she’s auditioned for many roles in her lifetime, and had been rejected for most of those roles. But the rejection that her neighbor handed to her so respectfully and politely was one that hit her the most, and she didn't know why.

Curling her lips into her mouth as she felt the pang of her heart sinking into her chest, she nodded and placed a small smile onto her face.

“Have fun tonight, then. I’ll see you around.” She grinned, hiding the slight bit of pain that she felt. He nodded, walking inside his apartment as she was in her doorway as well. “Oh, I’m Luci, by the way.” She introduced herself, feeling like she should have done that ten minutes ago, but it had slipped her mind.

The corner of the man’s mouth turned up into a sly smirk, and she nearly felt herself fall as she gripped the door handle tightly. It was enough to make the pain in her chest disappear, and all thoughts of the rejection that she would think about for the rest of the night vanished.

“Nice to meet you, Luci. I’m Harry.”

With that, Harry closed his door, putting a barrier between him and Luci, who was still standing in her doorway. She let out the longest sigh of her life, feeling like she’d been constricting herself from breathing properly for the last ten minutes.

Luci closed her door and leaned against it, looking down at the boxes that were resting by her feet. She softly smiled, her cheeks were starting to get warm, and she was fully aware that Harry was the cause of it.

come talk to me about your thoughts and feelings! hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, thank you for reading <3

ty to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic #harry styles ff #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #boyfriend!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles solo #actress!oc

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irgmugurg · 4 years ago

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Belphie's Music Taste

Mammon's Music Taste

Asmodeus's Music Taste

Belphie listening to lofi songs is simultaneously the cutest and funniest thing that I’ve ever heard.

Aw is the bratty little cowboy gonna listen to windchimes and sparkles. Yes. Yes, he is.

Aight hear me out. JUST LISTEN

Belphie listening to country music.

HE HAS THE COWBOY AESTHETIC ALREADY MIGHT AS WELL GO ALL THE WAY.

He’d start it as a joke but he’d gradually love falling asleep to the slow drawl of the music.

he thinks their super cheesy but proceeds to press play

"ugh more country music?" *clicks play*

Or even listening to those sad country army songs about being soldiers and missing your family

He 100% relates these songs to Lilith and having to fight for/against the celestial realm.

AT SOME POINT he’s layed with Beel and they both cried about country music/Lilith (think If Your Reading This and a bunch more by Tim McGraw, Arlington, and Your Gonna Miss This by Trace Adkins)

Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlise. FUCK. I’M GOING TO CRY.

I know some of these songs are from the point of view of a daughter and their dad but Belphie can’t help but think of being able to grow up and show Lilith how the world has changed.

Doesn’t even care that most of country songs are religion-based and yeah sometimes he gets so angry at Father for what he took from him but he remembers that now Lilith is up there still. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

Wishes he could still hold her, see her grow up, him and beel being her best men at her wedding, connecting the human and celestial realm

listens to circus songs and fucking cries

NICKELBACK. (he isn’t THAT bad okay, sometimes his songs SLAP) ((lullaby,,,belphie relates this song to his feelings of overwhelming anger in the attic)

Falling asleep holding each others hands, reminiscing about Lilith and the times they had together.

Mammon and satan, just to piss him off, played the wild west theme songs (The Good The Bad The Ugly theme) whenever he walked in a room and he would go demon mode (only for them to laugh harder, cowboy looking ass)

gets embarrassed if you hear him listening to country music

changes the song quickly, he can't have people knowing he genuinely likes it

listened to If I Die Young once and thought of Lilith

proceeded to block all mentions of this song

Anyway LOFI MUSIC.

He loves how soft and sweet it is even though it doesn’t match his “style”.

This motherfucker can be berated by Lucifer and he’ll put on headphones and just watch Lucifer scream at him and only hear soft Lofi music.

Lofi hip hop, Jazz, pop. He does not discriminate.

Very often gets the beats and small portions of the lyrics stuck in his head.

LOVES Shiloh Dynasty and all the remixes

But that is not the only thing that Belphie listens to. Oh no, definitely not.

Loves nightcore. Alvin and the Chipmunks who?

Alternatively likes listening to slowed down songs

Listens to the front bottoms and thinks about punching lucifer in his face

OUCH! By Matt Watson

HE LISTENS TO SCREAMO AND EMO MUSIC.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, SLEEPING WITH SIRENS, PIERCE THE VEIL.

Emo headass.

Is very much stuck in the 2010s (probably the last era he was able to listen to before getting locked in the attic and since getting out has been stuck there) and if MC introduces him to any more then even 2020 music.

It’s the emotions that he relates so heavily to but it also helps him stay awake to do tasks.

His turn to do dishes? Unearthly screaming comes from the kitchen. Please don’t worry he is just vibing.

He has the screamo voice. He doesn’t use it often because I don’t see Belphie as someone to sing along, more bopping to the music and swaying, MAYBE mumbling under his breath but nothing more.

Will do it with Lucifer around just to fuck with him

Why is the thought of Belphie on stage, smudged mascara, black leather clothes and screaming on the top of his lungs hot????

would 100% let you dress him up in that outfit but acts like he doesn't like it

Stop *bonk* being *bonk* a *bonk* belphie *bonk* simp *bonk*

He doesn’t like making playlists because its so much work so if he puts on Lofi to go to sleep to and he will stay sleeping on wild screamo music.

Listens to it most in the attic because that’s where a FUCKTON of his resentment/rebellious vibes come from and because he doesn’t want to bother Beel while they are sleeping.

Asshole probably doesn’t use his headphones anywhere else tho.

Asmodeus and Mammon don’t understand him but they love him nonetheless.

*demonic screeching* “Okay sweetie don’t forget about the student council meeting later today <3”

If Mammon vibes with a song he WILL scream along, incoherently though because he doesn’t know the lyrics.

Beel just kinda sits there. Doesn’t get it either but loves seeing Belphie look so at peace.

Old man lucifer “is that what you kids listen to today?” (but can he talk?? really?? listening to cursed records bc iTs InTeReStInG)

Satan gets it the most out of anyone else. When they have Anti Lucifer-League meetings Belphegor puts on the most rebellious, and relatable (for their cause) at least, songs and they both scream the lyrics.

he isn't shy showing these songs to you but has once attempted to show off his emo scream please don't laugh at him

OKAY BUT CLEANING UP THE LIVING ROOM WITH BELPHIE WHILE YOU BOTH SCREAM IS SO CUTE

Trophy Father’s Son by Sleeping With Sirens, Can You Feel My Heart, Keep Myself Alive, Sleepwalking by Bring Me The Horizon, Last Resort by Papa Roach, A LOT OF LINKIN PARK, Monster by Skillet, and OF COURSE Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

He probably wouldn't listen to wolf in sheeps clothing but *pointing* THATS HIM

Belphie has spent time crying over these songs. On late nights when he can’t sleep he cries about how he thinks Lucifer doesn’t love him and blames him for Lilith’s death. How MC must really hate him for how he’s acted. How different he is from his brother’s. (part of why he won’t listen to it in front of Beel)

please hold him and promise him that you don't hate him

He also LOOOOOVVES classical music but due to his history with it will not listen to it.

Aka how he used to lay on lucifer’s lap while he plays lullabies for him.

If Lucifer is playing classical music in the area tho? He can’t help but suddenly feel really sleepy. And no he didn’t fall asleep close enough to hear Lucifer scribble away on his paperwork (Lucifer knows he does and always has a blanket ready for when this happens).

lay with him and if you listen very carefully you can hear him mumbling the lyrics under his breath as he runs his fingers through your hair

One of my biggest things about belphie is that he is really smart even though he doesn’t like to put in the effort.

He likes to dissect these songs (typically passing thoughts and really paying attention, he won’t put to much effort into it) and get into them and it backfires because that means he’s really listening to these lyrics and it hits him THAT much harder. (STICKING LITTLE WHITE FLOWERS ALL UP IN HER HAAAAAIIRRRR)

End Note: Belphie doesn't have the largest music selection but the songs he listen to either help him sleep or makes him get all up in his feelings (bc he is emotionally stunted and its the only way he can cry).

#do you know how unbelievably angry i am writing these #he made me remember the old country songs I use to listen to #my dad use to listen to country and Spanish music often and as I grew up I slowly got out of that and into other genres #thats why this specific playlist is so nostalgic for me #ALSO GO LISTEN TO BUTTERFLY KISSES DONT YOU DARE SAY BELPHIE DOESN'T CRY AND THINK OF LILITH #i listened to it and went damn I can't believe I just lost my bby girl despite not having any children #obey me shall we date #obey me #om! belphegor #om! headcanons #hcs #headcanon #om! hcs #om! shall we date #swd om #obey me swd #shall we date belphie #belphie x mc #shall we date belphegor #belphegor headcanons #belphegor swd #belphegor x reader #obey me satan #shall we date satan #om! satan #om! lucifer #obey me lucifer #shall we date lucifer #om! mammon #shall we date mammon

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preciouspeterbparker · 4 years ago

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would it be enough?

okay this isn’t edited or anything, but! here’s a little ficlet i started a few months ago and got the inspiration to finish.

title from & inspired by “peace” by tsweezy (that song makes me cry every time bc i feel like i’m never gonna get my happily ever after lol, so i had to give peter his)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: depression, happy ending, borderline personality disorder, domesticity, discussions of mental health issues

It’s dark in the bathroom. The only light is coming in from the frosted window over the bathtub, scattered beams pouring through the glass of the shower. There are two bodies underneath the rainfall showerhead, wrapped up in each other.

The taller of the two men pulls away slightly, reaching for a non-descript bottle of shampoo. He squeezes some into his hand, while his partner pumps a blob of body wash on a loofah. Their actions are like a choreographed dance as the smaller of the two tilts his head into the other’s skilled fingers, his own hand moving to lather at the sculpted chest in front of him.

Peter sighs at the feeling of Tony’s nails scratching at his scalp. He loves moments like this; where it’s just the two of them enjoying each other’s company, forgetting the world outside of the little bubble of peace they’ve created. Running the loofah across the older man’s shoulder and down his bicep, he watches the way the shadows and light drift over the skin. Carefully, he presses the pad of his thumb to the pale, mottled scar tissue covering the center of Tony’s chest where the reactor used to sit, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. It’s smooth to the touch, bare of the greying curls that are smattered from his pecs all the way down to the ‘v’ of his hips.

He loves this body- its strength, the way it makes him feel protected, the things it can do to his own. Looking up into Tony’s eyes, he thinks of how much he loves the man it belongs to. “I love you,” he says softly, puckering his lips as he’s maneuvered so that his head is under the water once more.

“I love you more,” Tony replies automatically. “Close your eyes, Pete.” His hands tilt Peter’s head back and he runs his fingers through the foam saturated curls. Once the front is rinsed, he opens his mouth again, “‘kay you can open now.” He takes his time washing all of the remaining suds out as the younger man continues to run the sudsy netting over his skin.

Next is the apricot scented conditioner that Peter loves. He applies a handful to the dripping auburn locks and rubs the excess into his own salt and pepper hair. Then Tony clocks the way his boyfriend is grinning goofily up at him. It brings a smile to his face as well. “What’s so funny, why’re you smiling at me like that, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes shine as they meet the older man’s. “You’ve got soap on your nose.” He hands Tony the loofah and runs his fingers under the water so that he can reach up to wipe the white foam from the other’s face. “Got it,” he says softly, letting out a quiet sigh as Tony rubs the sudsy loofah over his shoulders.

Moments like this, as peaceful as they are, are nothing if not effervescent. Even as he stands there under the warm spray, Peter can feel the chill settling deep in his bones and beginning to weigh him down. There’s a knot forming in his chest. He takes a deep breath and tries not to focus on it. He takes in the smell of their bath products, the feel of his big toe bumping against the inside of Tony’s foot. He listens to the sounds of their breathing, the water swirling down the drain. If he ignores the feeling it will go away.

It doesn’t quite work, and Tony makes a soft questioning sound in the back of his throat and pulls the shorter man a little closer as he rubs the soapy netting in soft circles over the expanse of his back.

Peter lets his forehead rest on Tony’s collar bone. His chest feels- tight. He takes a slow, shuddering breath and tries to calm himself down. He’s starting to get restless, that weird fizzly feeling thrumming in his muscles. “It won’t always be like this, Tony,” he mutters, self-deprecatingly. His arms wrap around his partner’s waist in an attempt to comfort himself. “I’m...I have bad days. So bad sometimes…” He succumbs to the lump in his throat and lets his voice trail off at the end in an attempt to keep it from breaking. His eyes start to burn. He doesn’t mention that he can almost feel one coming on now-

How did he go from being perfectly happy to feeling like he’s falling apart in the span of a few minutes? It never fails to make him feel ridiculous, how sensitive he is to his own thoughts. If only he could control it, if only he wasn’t so-

Another gentle noise from Tony, who presses a kiss to the shell of his ear. “I know. I love you every day, Peter. Not just when you’re having a good day.”

Peter lets out a frustrated noise, followed by a shaky sigh. “But...you’re so good, Tony. You’re, you’re normal, and… And I- I’m never gonna be that, I won’t ever really, truly know what that’s like.” And he won’t. Because even on the good days, he’s always aware that it won’t last. Just like the current situation. “There are days where all I can manage is sitting in front of the TV, wrapped in a blanket.” His voice breaks, and the tears that had been stinging at his eyes begin to fall in earnest. “I’ll- I’ll go days without showering because I can’t bring myself to get up long enough to take one, and I’ll put it off until I literally can’t stand it anymore because I stink so bad.” A soft sob rips its way up from his lungs, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Fuck-

Tony just rinses him off under the water, eyes full of compassion as he wraps his arms around him. “It’s alright baby, I’m listening. I’m here.”

The young man splutters, gasping as he starts up again, voice quiet. “I’ll split on you, there will be days where I’ll forget how much I love you, forget all the good stuff. Even though I know, Tony I know how much you love me, I do, but there will be days where I’ll swear that you don’t, that you never did.”

He’s not sure why he’s saying all of this. Maybe because they haven’t actually had this conversation. Tony knows about his mental illness, of course, but honestly, Peter had been content to let him do his own research about his condition and what that would mean for them. What he would have to deal with every day for the rest of their lives. He hadn’t wanted the words to come out of his own mouth. He refused to be the catalyst that would force him to watch the love of his life realize that he wasn’t good enough, that he was too reactive, too sensitive. That he was just- too much. In every way.

Too late for that now.

“I know, baby. Peter, I know all of that. I’m not going anywhere. You being borderline didn’t scare me before we got together, and it doesn’t scare me now.”

And something about that rubs Peter the wrong way. He wants to scream. “But it should, Tony! We’re talking about moving in together and you... You shouldn’t have to deal with my- With my crazy.” He cuts himself off and bites at his wobbling lower lip when he notices the way Tony is looking at him. He looks- hurt, almost. “What?”

Tony’s voice is low. “Don’t you ever call yourself crazy. You’re not crazy. You know what you are? You’re my boyfriend. You’re the most generous person I’ve ever met. You give the most amazing snuggles. You’re sensitive and extremely empathetic, and you always know the right thing to say. You’re helpful. You’re expressive, and in touch with your emotions, which can’t be said about most people. You are beautiful Peter, and so is this brain of yours and everything that comes with it. I wouldn’t change you for the world, okay?”

He pauses to press their mouths together and looks down at Peter, who stopped crying during his little speech and is now gazing at him with adoration in his eyes. “And baby, I know we aren’t married yet but I mean it- for better or worse, through sickness and in health. Or, uh,” he trails off, suddenly looking a bit shy. “However it goes. You know what I mean.”

Peter blinks up at him, heart fluttering in his chest. He’s disoriented by the sudden surge of serotonin flooding his system. This is exactly what he means, but- “You- You wanna marry me?” A shaky smile takes over his lips at the thought. Forever with Tony.

Tony chuckles. “Of course I do. Who else is gonna put up with me?” He presses another kiss to Peter’s forehead before dragging him under the water. “Let’s wash this conditioner out, put on some comfy jammies- Ah, yes I know we just woke up- and lay in bed today, hmm? I’ll be big spoon.”

The younger man grins, squeezing his eyes shut as the water cascades down his face. “Sounds like a good deal to me- Hey wait.” He cracks an eye open and squints at Tony. “That wasn’t you proposing, right? Because I think I deserve-”

An affronted noise leaves Tony’s mouth. “You can wash out your own damn conditioner! Who do you take me for? Of course that wasn’t a real proposal- I have standards!”

Peter just laughs as the man’s fingers don’t move from their place in his hair.

That knot is still in his chest but-

The good moments, like this? They’re enough to make everything else worth it.

#starker #tony x peter #peter parker x tony stark #tw mental illness #wooo this one's a doozy #i feel like this is awful but here have it anyway #bloo writes bad things (tm)

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ushiwakaout · 4 years ago

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I love your ehat the haikyuu boys would say! Could I please please please request that for Akaashi or Sugawara? You write them so well, I'm literally in love!

I’ll be making two separate ones! I keep thinking that i’m done w this series but y’all keep wanting more 😤 (not that i’m complaining or anything because it keeps me busy)

and thank you 😭 i’m trying really hard to depict the characters well but i feel like i’m just repeating every single one.

Let’s do Suga first (Slight age difference, Suga 27/You 24 || ya’ll have been dating for two years)

“Hey bug- it’s time to get up.” (6:00 am)

*If you don’t wake up he will pull the blankets off you... naked or not*

“Rise and shine bug!!!” very chaotic... very mean.

“What do you mean you don’t wanna get up... To bad, breakfast is getting cold.”

“I woke you up early because I wanted a head start on our day off, thats why.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“I love you too bug.”

*forehead kiss*

*will open every single curtain so sunlight can rain into your place... also does it because he loves seeing your skin glow under the sunlight*

“What do you want to do on our day off?”

*he’s a elementary teacher and you’re a college student*

“I was thinking we could maybe....”

*pulls you into a kiss mid sentence, wrapping his fingers with yours*

“...spend the day at the park, have a picnic like our first date... What do you think?”

*your putty in his hands when he does this every morning. there isn’t a morning that he doesn’t do it*

“What’s on your mind bug?” (6:30 am)

*flash back to last night when he was giving you aftercare, hovering over you lightly as he strokes your face and he says those exact words*

*you tell him and he his brain STOPS WORKING... he’s like Oh? he’s blushing so hard it so cute*

“BUG YOU CAN’T SAY THOSE THINGS TO ME SO EARLY IN THE MORNING”

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO ME?!”

“YOU’RE SO SWEET” *cups your cheeks and kisses your face all around* “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Come on lets sit down and eat breakfast”

*he honestly has a tendancy of asking random questions like*

“Where do ducks come from?”

“Do you think Hinata is having fun in brazil?”

“You think he packed enough sun screen?”

“Should I ask him?”

“I think I’ll call him.” (7:00 am)

*he legit be on the phone with him for hours on end until your ready*

*he walks around the house, sits on the couch, gets up from the couch, makes the bed, watches you in the shower for a bit before smiling and whistling away to the patio*

“You ready yet?”(9:10 am)

“Let’s go then... What do you wanna get first?”

“I kinda want some boba tea...”

“You think they have any discounts since we’re a couple?”

“What? It’s just an extra bonus with being with you.”

“You cannot tell me that you don’t enjoy couples discounts.”

“I am not an old lady! I just like saving my money.”

“Shush woman, hold my head and order me something you think i might like.”

You: “You always get the same thing Koushi.”

“Exactly.” (10:00 am)

*he def pats your butt every time he makes you order something for him*

*one of his students has def seen him do it in public but they’ve never said anything*

*sometimes a student runs up to him and hugs him. makes you want to have kids*

*he introduces you to his kid and you just look at him with awe*

“What’s on your mind, bug?”

*he 100% did that on purpose, and now you’re blushing madly*

“What?”

*you hit his arm and quickly walk away from him, he’s jogging to catch up and when he does, he quickly holds you hand again*

“What do you want for lunch?” (12:00 pm)

“I think you know what I want.”

“It’s the only thing I eat, what are you expecting?”

you: “I don’t know how you haven’t burned a hole in your stomach yet.”

“Just because i order my mapo tofu super spicy doesn’t mean... it’s super spicy.”

you: “Kouchi... I can barely eat a bite before crying...”

“It’s not spicy.”

“You’re just a baby.”

*kissing the back of your hand*

*non stop teasing bc you can’t handle spicy food the way he can*

*you guys stop at a shop because both of you forgot to bring a damn basket for the fucking picnic*

“How did we forget a basket? How many baskets do we have now because we’ve forgotten ours?” (12:30)

“I like this one... Do you like this one? I think it matches my hair.”

“This one matches your eyes.... This one- Nope, were getting this one.”

“Okay! Now, lunch!”

“I’ll go get you your food and you get mine, yeah?”

*he pulls you into a soft kiss and just smiles at you*

*HES SO IN LOVE WITH YOU EVERYONE AROUND CAN NOTICE*

*when you come back with his favorite food and a little extra, he get’s excited*

“You brought me sweets?! I brought you some too! Wha’cha get?” (1:30 pm)

*When you pick a spot to sit down, he just wants to kiss you all over. hes the sweetest man you’ll ever meet*

*It’s probably three hours into the picnic and his man FALLS ASLEEP ON YOU. He’s so tired from taking care of young children that just listening to you talk to him so softly and so easily when he was on your lap- it drifted him off to sleep*

you: “Koushi... bub? Wake up... I’m getting hungry again.” (6:30 pm)

*he has the sweetest giggle when he hears your voice*

“Have I told you- HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?!”

*so much energy when he wakes up- its crazy.*

you: “Kou- you need to be more quiet.”

“No... I LOVE YOU- I LOVE you so so much.”

*starts kissing you everywhere and pins you to the ground*

“I love you so much... and one of these days I am going to make you my wife... and you’ll never know the day.”

*he loves saying stuff like that because it gets in your head all day. little do you know HES LEGIT BEEN CARRYING HIS GRANDMOTHERS OLD RING IN HIS POCKET EVERY DAY FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS BECAUSE HE HASN’T FOUND THE RIGHT MOMENT*

“Come on, let’s go find a restaurant of your choosing.”

*doesn’t let go of your hand until you reach the restaurant table, and then grabs your hand over the table*

“Your hand would look so pretty with a ring on it.” (7:30)

you: “stop joking! you’re awful.”

*he just smiles at you and really just says fuck it*

“Who says i’m joking, bug.”

*under the table he’s taking out the ring from the box and then slowly puts it on your ring finger*

you: “kou-”

“I’ve been holding on to this for about... two years now? What do you say?”

you: “I still think you joking... You’re not, right?”

*he let out a light laugh and shook his head*

“No i’m not...”

*you quickly nod your head and lean over the table to hug him*

“I promise you give you a happy future...”

tags(s): @foggycashdreampainter

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dykesbat · 3 years ago

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okok songs from my bruce playlist + reasons

first love / late spring by mitski

“and I was so young when I behaved twenty-five / Yet now I find I’ve grown into a tall child… Please hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe / Please don’t say you love me / Mune ga hachikire-sōde”

pretty self-explanatory! bruce is emotionally immature and just. yeah i feel like he oftentimes does feel the same as he did in that alleyway yknow. maybe he’s realizing the depths of how immature he is right here in the moment of recognizing that the person he finds himself loving right now is also someone he could potentially lose. i think of bruce as someone who loves a lot. maybe here he’s acknowledging how the price of loving is the possibility of pain.

everybody lost somebody by bleachers

THIS ENTIRE SONG BROOOOOOO

“It’s this dream I keep having where I’m begging / Just to give myself a break / But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to wake up and remember it / I wanna wake up and remember”

Bruce being an avid dreamer is a pretty popular concept n idk I think the concept of his dreams diverging from the nightmares of his loss to a dream of him acknowledging that he’s mourning and wanting the world to stop or like. him having a nightmare where the only coherent words he remembers after waking up is just his internal “i’m so tired” but maybe its survivors guilt maybe its just the desperation to hold on to whatever he can of the people that he lost maybe he's just trying to hold on to all the good and the good memories are just. so intertwined with the pain of loss. but he doesn’t want to let go of it

“I think pain is waiting alone at the corner / Tryna get myself back home, yeah / Looking like everybody / Knowing everybody lost somebody... A reason I see myself in a million faces / A reason I can't stop it all from changing / So come on, motherf*^&r, you survive”

i think these lines can be used to represent him turning his pain into his efforts for making gotham better. basically just. redirecting the love into the city and the people rather than only mourning. obv it would be his entire mission after his parent’s deaths. and for canon continuity reasons—since it's a bit more hopeful maybe it's after jason’s death and after tim comes around? idk i imagine bruce remembering his parents and remember jason around the manor hallways and on the city rooftops. the whole “trying to get myself back home” can be like home = the person lost or just. literally bruce trying to put in the effort to dragging himself back home for (himself? tim? alfred? hmm.) n the other lines are just. him seeing himself in gotham and seeing worth in human life. it connects to his compassion and his no-kill-rule and his empathy and his taking in of his children. and like yeah he can’t stop it all from changing he can't prevent every death but he’ll try to. the survive line is also pretty self-explanatory.

garden song by phoebe bridges

“I don't know when you got taller / See our reflection in the water / Off a bridge at the Huntington / I hopped the fence when I was seventeen / Then I knew what I wanted”

ok so I'm thinking. him talking abt dick in the first few lines. probably after reconciling with him after they've been enstranged for so long and he’s feeling regretful for the mistakes he made there while thinking of their past times together. maybe he took younger dick to a place he went to when he solidified his plan to train abroad?

“And it’s gonna be just like my recurring dream / I’m at the movies, I don’t remember what I’m seeing / The screen turns into a tidal wave”

do I have to explain.. avid dreamer bruce,, the movies,, the dream ending terribly,, gn!

“I don’t know how, but I’m taller / It must be something in the water / Everything’s growing in our garden / You don’t have to know that it’s haunted”

idk how to explain it? but just. bruce growing up in a manor that suddenly feels larger than it ever did before. n it feels like he took his parents ghosts w him and left whatever his childhood was back in that alley. and part of him can pick out what he felt on that day. and so much changed and he’s grown? he’s grown older than his father ever was? and he doesn’t know how that's possible?

class of 2013 by mitski

“Mom, can you wash my back / This once, and then we can forget / And I’ll leave what im chasing / For the other girls to pursue…. Mom am I still young / Can I dream for a few months more”

ok no he is not financially struggling n i will b honest this is a self-indulgent song to maximize relatability <3 but my decision to put this song was also based on the idea of him just. missing him mom so muchhhh?? maybe a dream? maybe the aftermath of fear gas? who knows but here the “forget” will just be for his parent's deaths. I imagine this to be somewhat akin to the mask of phantasm monologue he has at his parents grave. (spoilers for that: he’s basically asking his parents for forgiveness for potentially abandoning his oath of bettering Gotham as Batman). last line makes me #$%^&*( just. hnnnnnnn imagine him waking up blurry eyed and brain fogged and he’s just grasping onto the false belief of his parents still being there n clinging on to the comfort of his pre-crime alley childhood before he truly wakes up.

sick of losing soulmates by dodie

okok this is on my bruce + romance playlist too bc it reminded me of batcat and bruharvey. it can also be interpreted as his fam ig? but I feel like that doesn’t apply for most of the song.

“God knows what I would be if you hadn’t found me / Sitting all alone in the dark… What the hell would I be without you / Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth… Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates / So where do we begin / I can finally see you’re as f$:$:&ed up as me / So how do we win”

I just think. that. Bruce would have abandonment issues. first four lines can be taken for all three (batcat, bruharv, the family) interpretations. the truth being hidden doubling both as his identity as Batman and just. the fact that he loves them lol (batcat, bruharv). last three lines lean towards bc and bh but personally they reminded me more of bat cat (probably bc ppl always say they’re so similar). basically I feel like this song could signify their fears of losing each other in whatever way that means (romantically, platonically, death) bc they both care for each other so much and impact each other so muchhsuagdj but at the same time it feels like its bound to end badly. (ofc it doesn't. whether or not they like. break up from a romance or have a falling out between friends i’d like to think some time after they heal they become reconnect n their relationship w each other is stronger and so alike what it was before but different bc its just. so much healthier this time. and to copy and paste from my thoughts on my other playlist: bruce crashes at selinas house sometimes and she makes the him catsit for her bc she thinks it’s funny when he complains abt her cats and calls them mean names and then gets a picture of bruce knocked out cuddling them like 30 m later courtesy alfred)

#ok to rb but idk how coherent this is 😭😭#bruce #dc comics #hi i made this playlist a while back and wanted to spill some Thoughts abt it #it has like 25 songs though so im not gonna go through them all esp since a bunch are just. self indulgent jsalkhd.#literally so many lines from these songs could apply to the version of him i think of n i am losing itttt #long post #mutuals feel free to ask for the playlistttt

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pynkhues · 4 years ago

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Why does Dean plead guilty? Is it bc of Phoebe? Is it because he wants to protect Beth? Is it because he wants to take the credit? Does it have to do with his male-ness? Have you already explored this topic? #questions

That’s such a good question, anon! It makes for a really interesting (and I actually think in-character) beat for Dean, and I think you’re right in the sense that it’s partially about protecting Beth and partially having to do with his male-ness, but I think there’s also something more fundamental at play.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how this show explores image, perception and projection, and how frequently those things are at the root of Beth and Dean’s arcs, both together and apart. These themes do of course feed into other character storylines (Annie at Ben’s school charity auction in 4.02 being one of the clearest examples of this – that was entirely about projecting an image to Ben’s peers and trying to change the way she would be perceived), but I don’t think it roots as deeply as it does in Beth and Dean, in no small part because Beth and Dean’s biggest audience is themselves.

So! Let’s break that down and talk about how that feeds into Dean pleading guilty.

Rose Coloured Boy (Rose Coloured Girl): nostalgia as the face of love

One of the things that’s always fascinating to me about Beth and Dean’s relationship is how often the show roots it in the past. One of the very first moments of Dean acting regretful over his cheating way back in 1.02 is through talking about the ‘fun stuff [he and Beth] did in the back seat in highschool’. That sense of the history of their romance is further emphasised in imagery of their past – Beth and Dean’s wedding photo is revisited frequently in season 1 while their anniversary is a key moment of the finale, Dean reminisces over screenshots of the kids as babies in season 2, and they even talk sweetly about anniversary dates, and their first apartment together after signing their divorce papers in 2.13.

This paints a picture of a tender history. One of young love and years of happiness and kindness, only it’s a history that the show has regularly, deliberately undermined.

All those beautiful pictures Dean’s looking at of his young family together and happy? Well, 2.05 confirmed that Beth was pregnant while he was having one of his affairs, so which of those photos are truly happy, and which were taken while Dean was betraying her? Similarly, they talk and joke about Valentine’s Day three years ago at the end of 3.08, but if he wasn’t having an affair with Amber then, he was likely having one with another woman.

The purpose of undermining history like this isn’t about the show forgetting or retconning these plot points – especially when the show ties these moments to other emotions, like Dean’s jealousy over Rio in 3.08 (and I’ll come back to that later), or Dean’s feelings of failure – but rather to establish the way that Beth and Dean both romanticise their past and paint it with a rose-coloured brush.

They tell themselves that they might not be happy today, but they were happy yesterday. And then they say that the next day and the next day and the next day, until every unhappy day, becomes a happy yesterday.

That romanticisation of their history is intrinsically tied to an image that they want to project to themselves. They have put so much time and energy into this thing between them, they have so many children, have so much of their lives entwined, that they need to believe that it’s all been worth it, because if it’s not, the image cracks and I don’t think either of them have the tools to handle that.

Which we kind of saw in 4.03.

It’s not an accident that the Beth and Dean flashbacks were in that episode – an episode that in a lot of ways fractured the image of Beth and Dean’s relationship, particularly for Dean. He’s been under the impression that they’re better, that they’re working again, that neither of them are cheating and Rio’s far away and Beth believes in him like she did before everything went wrong, and to discover that that image was false – was a projection of what Beth wanted him to believe, and perhaps simply what he himself wanted to believe too – is challenging to say the very least.

He was put in a position where he was faced not only with the extreme consequences of his wife’s actions, but a domino effect of lie after lie after lie, and the show choosing to take us back to the start of their relationship at that very moment, I think, shows us that the root of Beth and Dean’s relationship came back to Beth needing to be looked after, and Dean deciding, without knowing Beth very well, that he wanted to be the one to do it.

Macho Macho Man: Dean & Masculinity

Which brings us to Dean and masculinity. I’ve talked about the show’s exploration of masculinity quite a bit now (hell, it even has its own tag now, haha), and wrote a whole series of posts after 2.04 about male ego which I should probably update sometime to include s3 and s4, but it really is one of the core themes of the show. It bubbles to the surface almost constantly and frequently becomes a driving factor of character motivations, particularly characters like Turner, who had his male ego challenged by Beth which resulted in a vendetta, to Boomer’s toxic masculinity driving him through much of the show.

For Dean though, his masculinity is frequently projected only to be destroyed, undermined or used against him in a way that ultimately completely emasculates him. The scene of Dean trying to reassert gender roles on himself and Beth only to have Rio bone his wife, destroy his prized car and insert himself into his business is perhaps the clearest example of that, but it manifests in plenty of other ways too. From hiring hitmen only to be robbed and have his wife’s panties stuck in his mouth, to buying the gun only to have it stolen, to think he’s establishing a new business for himself only to discover his wife’s pulling the strings with her ex-lover. Hell, even the fact of losing the business in the first place is inherently emasculating.

What I’m getting at is that every time Dean asserts himself in ways that are typically considered ‘Masculine’ – providing for his family, dominating his wife / treating her paternalistically, behaving with violent intents, establishing a business – it’s only to have that immediately undermined in the narrative. Dean likes this image for himself, and wants to project it, but the show keeps telling us that the image is a false one.

And then the show outright used that falsehood, and Dean’s insecurity over it, in 4.02 with Dave convincing Dean to give him the books, despite Beth telling him they weren’t ready.

Dean played right into his hand because Dave saw Dean’s masculinity for what it was – a projection covering an insecurity, which in turn, made Dean act thoughtlessly.

(Another pattern of behaviour for Dean! Like hiring the hitmen or cutting the money plate).

Dean’s commitment to the image of masculinity is in a lot of ways too tied to this idea of the rose-coloured image of his and Beth’s romantic history. Beth, from an image standpoint, is a case study in traditional femininity, and for much of their 20-year relationship, they’ve had their roles and they’ve stuck to them. The challenge of that throughout the course of the series is ultimately a challenge to the image that their relationship is based on, which in turn means that Dean’s feelings of failing masculinity end up being tied to his feelings and insecurities around Beth, frequently manifesting into jealousy over Rio.

To have that used against him by Dave (and funnily enough, Rio using those same feelings of Dean’s against Beth in 4.02) is a really interesting character note and I think very much fuels his motivation in the scene with Phoebe.

That Loving Feeling: a brief aside

I feel like I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention here that I actually do think Beth and Dean love each other. I think that it’s a broken love, like Christina said in her BUILD interview while promoting season 3, and I also think it’s a child’s love, which is something that we saw a bit through these flashbacks. Their relationship is so steeped in that history and that origin, that their love has failed to grow with them. It’s a sort of arrested development type of love, which I think makes them cling to the image all the harder, and it’s that old love and that image that’s stopped Dean from ever even contemplating turning Beth in.

Dean Pleads Guilty

Projection and perception are key in this show overall, but especially this season. We’ve seen that with the way Fitzpatrick has projected onto Beth, which I’ll talk about another time, but we also importantly saw Phoebe project onto Beth in this episode. She equates Beth to a girl she was friends with in highschool who used her, and tells Dean as such.

Phoebe’s projection of Beth – her image of her – isn’t one that Dean identifies with, and he tells her as much in return. While Dean is quiet in the scene overall outside of that interaction, the flashbacks deliberately seek to remind us of the nostalgia that has driven Beth and Dean’s relationship for the last twenty years and four seasons of the show. There’s a part of Dean that still sees Beth as the girl he chose to look after when they were just teenagers, and I think having his masculinity threatened the episode before by Dave intermingled with Dean’s nostalgia and his desire to ‘man up’ and take care of her in the way he tried to when her mum was in the hospital. All their murky, messy history and anger and hurt is painted over again, and Dean, at least in the moment, re-commits himself to the image of what he and Beth are.

He’s the man, she’s the woman, and it’s just another unhappy today for all those happy yesterdays.

#beth x dean #beth boland #dean boland #gg 4.03 #masculinity #character backgrounds #staying's worse than leaving #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

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ofmermaidstories · 4 years ago

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I really like your blog because you have this really life loving vibe, the type of people that see all the beauty in the world and stuff, so I wanted to ask you for some advice, if that's ok. By nature I'm also like that, kinda mushy, very heartfelt, but a lot of mistreatment from people in my life made me also very cynical, judgy and distrusting. How do you manage to keep this wonderous mentality about life?

In the afternoon, I like to stretch out on my bed, amid my pillows and my blankets, and soak in the late light and the autumn chill. I follow a grocer on instagram in a city three hours away from me because they post pictures of the produce they sell: pumpkins cut in half, jewel-bright tomatoes held in someone’s hands, sourdough loaves made by a neighbour. On the weekends they offer bouquets of flowers, supplied to them by a woman who bills herself as “a weekend florist and full-time mother” — this weekend it’s red berries and sunflowers, bundled up like babies being brought home from the hospital.

On Sunday it’ll be Mother’s Day: I’ll be spending the day deep cleaning the house and ignoring instagram and facebook (mostly bc they’re boring tho, let’s be real).

I live a two-hour car drive from anyone I remotely socialise with who isn’t the cashier at the supermarket I go to. Sometimes, I get so mad that I have to force myself to mentally and physically shut down, like, complete black-screen mode, sit there and stare at the wall — it’s a self-defence tactic to spare whoever I’m getting angry at, and to spare myself: unfortunately, I’ve developed a bit of a talent for being able to say the right thing in which to hurt someone with. Unleashing it comes at a high price, and I like the people in my life, so I would literally rather bite through my own tongue then let any of that vitriol fly when I’m angry and not thinking straight.

The rubbish trucks come for the bins every Tuesday. On Monday evening, around 9pm, I’ll wheel mine out to the road. There’s no streetlights out here, and I live in a rural area — so on dark nights when we’ve lost the moon, you can look up and see the Milkyway, like you’re standing underneath a river of stars.

I buy myself flowers; the women at the florist in town treat me like I’m their most favourite person in the world (and I eat that shit up). Afterwards I’ll be carrying whatever weeds I’ve bought with me, through the supermarket or whatever, and someone will always comment on them. I’ve lost one of the pearl earrings that belonged to my Grandmother’s set, a woman long gone, now; I’ve also misplaced my favourite hairclip, pale blue with a shinning shell clasp, that I got from a seller that shut down during the mess of last year.

Last weekend, I visited the cemetery; I sat with who I was visiting and watched an old man half a lawn away from me sit in a folded chair and read a book, play a little radio. A couple, visiting one of the plots behind us, carefully took the decorations on it - frogs, lots and lots of frogs - and brushed them off, wiped them down. Reglued a few and then set them all back into place, proudly.

There’s a young boy, interred next to my person, who I never met in life; he was fifteen years old and it’s been five years, now, and his site is littered with rubgy scarves and laminated letters from his friends, photos of them together, photos of them separately, growing up without him. Empty bottles of beer, badly written poems about meeting again. I say hello to him as I peel mandarins as a offering for the possums that forage around the cemetery at night, and occasionally I brush the leaves off his footy scarves and when I go to leave I say goodbye to him, too. After my last visit, I went to the busiest shopping centre in the city and ate braised beef noodle soup, from a place where they make the noodles in front of you, pulling them and stretching them easily. I messaged a friend with updates about my meal, laughing as she kept me company even from thousands of miles away, and then just as I finished, some friends who live in the city asked if I wanted to have some cake with them — from their favourite cafe. They’d given me a key to their home, earlier, so I could come and go as I pleased. The key meant a lot to me, though they’ll never know it; it meant a lot because it felt like a physical manifestation of trust, of them saying that yes, they did want me in their lives, no matter how limited or what kind of time left we had together.

People are multifaceted; like gemstones. We can be mean and delightful and trusting and hurt. I lean into the soft, squishy parts of myself with abandon — a lot of the time it works out. I tell people I love them. I let them say they love me. A couple of times, people have left my life because they didn’t have the space in theirs for me anymore — it was hurtful and ugly each time. Humans can come together so easily, sometimes, that the joy and brightness of it can make you forget how ugly and hard it is when we leave each other in the wrong way. People and things will hurt you. That’s just a fact. Some days you’re not going to have the energy for anything but the self-preservation of being distrustful, or cynical, judgemental, and that’s okay — I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, sometimes we have to be selfish to protect what’s left of our hearts.

I keep a list of things that make me smile. I also keep a list of things that fucking shit me right off. The list of things that shit me is longer than the list of things that make me smile, but it’s because when I see something good — a bright red letterbox, a little kid that’s waving to everyone, a pleasing colour of the sky — I don’t think to write it down, because it’s generally so fleeting and so cheery. It does its job. Find the small things in your day to day that you like to linger over, that make you happy; the bad stuff still happens, and you’ll still have waves where it doesn’t seem worth the effort, but the small bright things fill the moments and remind you that it’s all part and parcel of this universal existence.

Here’s to a gentle weekend ahead, Anon. ✨🌻🍊🌿

#ofmermaidstories-asks #wow someone muzzle me i did not mean to ramble like that lksdfjlksdjfklsdfj #hopefully it was even a fraction helpful though UGH #mer muses on the nature of love and connection and seperation

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hesther-mcg · 4 years ago

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blue dragons, part one + chapter eight

➥ pairing: eventual asami x oc

➥ summary: the one where azula trains ursa, and gets the shock of a lifetime; or the one where a picky spirit makes himself known for the first time in ages

➥ rating: angst i suppose

➥ warnings: mentions of past abuse

➥ a/n: mnmxcnvxn this took forever to get out bc life is cray cray, haha srry folks but here we are!! this is quite an interesting chapter in my opinion, i really love the dynamic between ursa and azula and giving azula this opportunity means a lot. also this is an introduction to a certain blue serpentine spirit OoOoOoOoOo

also for clarification purposes, when ursa’s eyes glow, it looks like the avatar state but blue ya know

p1, chap seven p1, chap eight p1, chap nine blue dragons m. list

Frustration itched at every nerve in Ursa’s body, and she let out a huff. She swiped at her bangs that fell in her face as she paced back to the bench on the far side of the training yard. Her glass of watermelon juice was almost empty, and an added weight fell on her already sagging shoulders. She downed the rest of it and returned it to its spot, perhaps a little harshly, and shook her head.

A growl escaped her mouth and she screamed as she shot a large stream of fire at nothing in particular. Unbeknownst to her, Azula lurked in the shadows behind her. She had watched the Crown Princess -only thirteen years of age- train for a short while, her determination admirable and patience thinning. The older woman could see the mistakes that were made, minor in severity and easy to fix with a little guidance.

It had taken a long while for her to acknowledge the likeness between her and her young niece; she hadn’t wanted to and had adamantly denied it. But one day things just clicked, and she realized that Ursa looking like her, and thinking like her, and being as powerful as her wasn’t as bad as she thought.

Because her father was long gone.

What had happened to Zuko would never, in a million years, happen again, and what had happened to Azula surely wouldn’t either. Her older brother had proved himself to be an amazing father, and Izumi never once lived a day thinking she hadn’t made him proud. He never spoke down to her for being a girl, he never got angry because she couldn’t make up for it with bending, and he never used her for his own personal gain.

All of which were things Azula had been subjected to in her childhood, and had ultimately feared her niece would be as well, but was relieved to see otherwise. Their father, and his legacy, was long gone; and only when she accepted that fact could she truly accept her own growth and healing. And only when she accepted those could she accept that Ursa had all of her best qualities, and some of her not so best qualities, and if they were nurtured and guided correctly she could be like no one else.

“My, my, Princess; have you been out here all day?” Azula inquired as she emerged from the shadows and took slow steps to the aforementioned Princess, hands clasped behind her back and head held high just like always.

“Hey, Auntie Zula,” Ursa sighed as she bowed before rising again. “Almost; I’m going over some of the advanced moves I learned, and I’ve almost mastered them all but I can’t seem to get this last one.” She shook her head. “I’m doing exactly what my Master did, and it’s still not right. I know I’m better than this.”

“You are,” the older woman responded without missing a beat. She paced in front of her young niece. “You are better than this, this is but a mere moment in your path to mastering the element. You’re incredibly skilled, Ursa, never forget that. Before too much longer you’ll surpass your Master and they will no longer be able to do you any good. I was going to step in after that, but I can see that now is as good a time as ever.”

“Really?” One would have to be deaf to miss the eagerness laced in her question.

“Of course,” Azula turned sharply in place. “I know exactly what mistakes you’re making; though, it’s not your fault. I hate to tell you this, Princess, but your Master is a doofus.” The younger girl giggled from behind her hand. “Are you a dragon?”

The question caught Ursa off guard. “Huh?”

“Are you a dragon?” She repeated slowly. The look in her eyes was familiar, she had seen it in her father’s, grandmother’s, and great grandfather’s eyes many times before. She’d seen it in the mirror only once or twice; it was a look of true seriousness, one you could only get when, you might not know what you’re doing, but, you know that whatever it is you can do it. She tried her best to mimic it in her own matching eyes.

“Yes. I am a dragon.”

“That’s what I thought.” Azula stated smugly. “Only dragons can teach dragons, Ursa, and since The Great Dragon of the West is no longer with us, I only see it fitting that I take over as your Master. After all,” she raised one hand in front of her, and blue fire floated in her palm. “We do have twin flames.”

The pair shared a smile before Azula extinguished the flame and returned her hand to its rightful place, clasped in the other behind her back. Ursa placed one hand, fingers straight and palm pointed to the side, above the other, which was closed in a fist. She bowed deeply, “thank you for teaching me, Sifu Azula.” She rose back up and turned away from her Master. She faced straight ahead, ready for anything. “What should I do first?”

Lady Azula smiled to herself. “Your punches and kicks were good, but everything has room for improvement. You’re not putting enough power into your jump, and then not putting enough power in the flames. Let’s break it down. Take your stance.”

Ursa positioned herself in the stance she normally chose. Her grandfather had shown it to her, and she figured out that it was the one that worked easiest with her dynamic. Her left foot forward, right foot behind her. Knees slightly bent. Arms out before her, elbows slightly bent as well. Palms open, fingers relaxed. Ready to strike.

“Remember, firebending comes from the breath. Focus on the fire inside of you, and breathe in deeply; allow the air to reach the flames. Let your chi flow freely, the reason our fire burns blue is because it is pure. Your river is unblocked, your chi’s are synced and your power flows through you. Pure, clean, untethered fire. You have the power, be the thing that controls it.”

Deep breaths. Unlocked chi’s. Flowing river. The Princesses eyes had long since closed, and she envisioned all the things her aunt spoke about.

“Reposition,” Azula coaxed quieter, seeing the concentration on Ursa’s face.

The girl’s hands formed fists, clenched tightly, and her left arm straightened itself out. Her right fist drew back and rested right beside her eyes.

“Now, punch.”

It was like time moved in slow motion Her eyes snapped open before narrowing into a squint. Her brows drew together and her face scrunched up. She lunged her right fist forward, stepping into the punch with her right foot; bringing as much power as she could for the opening attack. Her fists lit ablaze, encircled with blue, and she punched a rather large fireball straight ahead. Her grunts were barely audible over the loud swoosh of the flames.

Ursa dealt one strike after the other, slowly making her way forward, sometimes ducking to avoid a blow from an imaginary opponent. “Kick,” Azula commanded loudly.

One last punch before she kicked her right leg in a half circle, flames following closely. They lingered in the air and Ursa spun around and shielded herself from view with more blue fire. “Now jump!”

A moment passed, a moment where the older woman’s breath caught in her lungs. Then, before any particular emotion could truly settle in her bones, Ursa leapt out from the wall of blue flames, a look of ferocity painting her features. She landed on her feet and sprung forward not a moment later; she took one step, two steps, three...

And on her final step she jumped high in the air, and Azula’s voice cut through the noise, “Roar!”

Flames from her feet propelled her upwards, a gust of blue, and the same shot out of her hands. Her face scrunched up as her cry echoed around the training yard, a stream of fire shooting out of her open mouth. Everything was blue, all Azula could see was blue. And all she could feel was heat.

But what really shocked her, what really made her brows scrunch together and her jaw drop, was the Princesses eyes, once a piercing golden brown, were now completely blue. The fire around her swirled and moved until it started to take form. The form of a dragon.

Of course. Of course. It made sense, everything about her fit the role.

“The Spirit of the Dragon…” She whispered in awe. It was a phenomenon that she never thought she would be alive to witness, and she would never tell a soul about the tears that filled her eyes as she watched her great niece display her sheer power.

When the roar died down, and Ursa’s flames shrunk, and she dropped to the ground, her eyes fell shut and her knees gave out. She caught herself with her hands and shook her head. With a couple groans, and a few deep breaths she was back on her feet.

“Holy shit.” A voice broke the silence. Azula turned around only to see her older brother; Zuko’s mouth hung open and his arms were limp at his side.

“That-” the Princess cut herself off to catch her breath. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she chuckled lowly. Her eyes flickered from her great aunt and great grandfather. She didn’t know how to feel about what had just occurred. On one hand, she knew that her family would never think any different of her for anything, they had always told her that nothing could ever make them not love her; but on the other, insecurity and fear seemed like the obvious answer.

What if they thought she was too powerful? What if they feared she would be the demise of the Fire Nation? She didn’t even know what took over her, what if it was something evil? What if, what if, what if-

“Ursa,” Azula broke her train of thought. She snapped back to reality, heart in her stomach, and looked at the older woman. “Do you know what just happened?” Dread pricked at every nerve in her body and she shook her head. Her fingers began to tremble and she clenched her hands into fists to hide it.

“That was the Spirit of the Dragon, my dear. A powerful spirit of the very first dragon; it has possessed only few people throughout history, not nearly as much as the Avatar, but hasn’t made itself known in centuries. My, Ursa,” Zuko marveled. “It chose you, how incredible.”

“I’m not-I’m not in trouble?” She stuttered.

“Of course not,” Azula shook her head and made her way to the girl, hands reaching out. They rested on her shoulders and she leaned down so their eyes met. “I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to worry. What happened to me will never happen to you, I promise you that. Do you know what the Spirit of the Dragon means exactly?” The girl shook her head before her aunt continued.

“The Spirit of the Dragon, like Zuzu explained before, is a very powerful spirit. It has joined with numerous people over the course of time, merging with them and bestowing knowledge and strength upon them like no other. It can’t just be anybody, however,” she paused and looked over at the bench. She motioned to it with her hand and the three of them traveled to it together, and they made sure that Ursa sat in between them. “The kind of people that the Dragon Spirit chooses are powerful, people who are destined to do great things in this world. The power to stand up to people, for people, and with people is incredible. It might sound simple, but most people can’t say they passed the test. You did.”

“We’ve known since the day you were born that you held incredible powers and an even more important destiny,” the older man took over. “But we never could have imagined this for you.” He chuckled lightly and shook his head.

Azula took that as her cue to continue. “But we’ve never, ever, feared that you would do something wrong, or that you would be too powerful for your own good. And no matter what happens, to you or to us, and no matter what you have to go through, we’ll always be with you.”

Ursa nodded her head and wiped her cheeks of any tears. Her eyes were red and swollen, but her hands no longer trembled and her shoulders only slightly shook as she calmed down.

“Now,” Lady Azula stated, her tone back to the normal smooth and sharp drawl. “Are you a dragon?”

“Yes.” Ursa looked at her and tried with everything she had to convey just how much she meant it.

“Who are you?” The question cut through the air sharply, and a moment later the younger girl's eyes changed colors again, both glowing a bright blue.

“I am Crown Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, Heir to the Throne; I am the Dragon Princess and I have the power of the first dragon’s spirit!”

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