#if I make the eyes any bigger it looks so funny in comparison | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ncssian · 2 years ago

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time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, now i’m missing your smile, hear me out. we could just ride around.

a/n: this is soooo long and MAJORLY unedited but it feels perfect for xmas eve so im posting it now. it might even be missing paragraphs but we ride

***

Nesta refused to go fully no-contact with her sisters. To this day, she didn’t know why, but that was how she found herself standing outside Feyre’s house for her mandatory family dinner, held only three times a year.

Three times a year, Nesta had to dress up and submit herself to a painfully awkward night of being left out of conversations and eating mediocre food. Tonight it was for Thanksgiving. She’d long resigned herself to the torture of it all, and she was nothing but grateful that it was only three nights out of the whole year.

That still didn’t make knocking on the door any easier, however.

“Nesta?” a voice behind her asked, immediately raising every hair on her neck. She turned away from the front door to find a familiar face walking up the lit pathway to the manor’s stone porch, approaching her.

Oh God. “Cassian?”

Wow, did he look… different. In the three years since he’d left to work for the Peace Corps, Cassian’s muscles had subtly grown not bigger, but more defined, his clothes now better-fitting. His dark hair was shorter than she’d ever seen it before, no longer wild and untamed, but still long enough to fall near his chin. He looked so tame in comparison to the hulking giant she’d used to know.

He laughed and rushed up to her to sweep her into a crushing bear hug, making her gasp in surprise. They’d never been close enough in the past for a greeting this enthusiastic, but maybe the Peace Corps had made him demented. “How have you been?” he exclaimed, setting her down on her feet and placing a hand at her shoulder so she wouldn’t tip over. “I was wondering whether I’d get to see you tonight.”

Nesta could only open and shut her mouth, no words coming out. “You’re back,” was all she could say.

He grinned wide. His smile had remained the same. “I am.”

Her mind frantically flipped through the encyclopedia of social etiquette. “It’s good to see you again,” she forced out. “How was—life?”

His laugh was quiet, but she didn’t know what was funny. “I should be asking you the same thing. What are you waiting out here in the cold for?” He nudged her softly.

“Just trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door,” she answered honestly.

“I see.” He nodded. “Well, if we both put our heads together, I'm sure we can manage it before dinner is served.”

Was he making fun of her? His manner seemed serious and earnest, and it was confusing the hell out of Nesta.

Just then, the door swung open, a rush of light and warmth spilling out onto the front porch. “I thought I heard a ruckus outside,” Elain said, thin brows furrowing as her gaze swung to Nesta, then quickly smoothing out with a smile as her eyes landed on Cassian. “Come get out of the cold," she said. "We’re so glad you could make it.”

Nesta knew Elain was addressing both of them, but she couldn’t help but feel the last part had been directed to Cassian more than her.

Cassian swept inside with a grin and greeted Elain with a kiss to her cheek, and Nesta had to force herself to look away. Suddenly the hug she’d gotten no longer felt like overkill. A kiss had to mean more than a hug, right?

“You both are a little late, but you haven’t missed much. I’ll bring everyone else to the dining room,” Elain said, before wandering off down one of the mansion’s grand hallways to get the rest of their friends.

Nesta took in a subtle breath, but a deep one nonetheless, as she set about taking her coat off. It was stupid to be so anxious about a simple dinner. In no less than four hours, she'd be tucked in her warm bed with a swoony romance book, and the whole evening would disappear like the fragments of a bad dream. This was nothing.

Cassian came up to her side as they made their way to the dining room, bending down to speak into her ear. "There's so much I want to catch up with you about. I wish I'd known you were going to be here earlier, I would've prepared more."

Nesta's responding look was confused, if not bewildered. Prepared for what? Was there something grating about her presence that required preparation? He kept saying things that sounded like potential jabs in the softest, friendliest manner.

She ran her jittery hands down the sleek low ponytail of her hair, then the blue velvet of her simple dress. "Yes, well." She didn't follow through with the rest of the sentence.

They arrived at the dining room, where it was both a relief and a weight to no longer be alone with just Cassian. Everyone else in her sister's little friend group was already there, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the platters of food and rushing to claim seats at the table.

Nesta heard several exclamations of "Cassian's here!", all of which she ignored as she tried to decide which seat would suit her best tonight. She might have heard Cassian say, "Nesta's here, too," but it was quickly swallowed up and lost to the rest of the room's conversation.

Cassian took a seat next to Azriel and started pulling out the empty chair beside him. His eyes searched for and met Nesta's just as she picked her seat on the opposite side of the table, near the very end. A look of defeat took over his face as Morrigan took the chair beside him. Nesta didn't understand what the look was supposed to mean, but as it was awkward not to smile at someone after a certain amount of eye contact had been made, she offered him a small smile that probably came off as a tiny grimace before looking away.

After a lot of scrambling around, Elain ended up seated on Nesta's right. Not too bad, as conversation with Elain was less likely to make Nesta's skin crawl than with others at the table.

Everyone started piling their plates with food, and Nesta let Elain take her plate to serve her. It was easier than drawing attention to herself by reaching out and getting the food on her own.

"You shouldn't have come so late, Cassian," Feyre said from the head of the table. "You missed all the appetizers, they’re all finished now."

“Don’t tell me you didn’t save me any of Elain’s lobster rolls,” he said with wide eyes, acting offended.

Elain giggled at that, but the sound seemed more calculated than genuine. It probably wasn't nice to think everything that your sister did was calculated, but Nesta wasn't feeling very nice tonight. She felt like staring into her mashed potatoes while dreaming about a handsome man crashing this dinner party and promptly sweeping her off her feet.

Morrigan and Feyre led the conversation by gossiping about some work friend of Rhysand's they'd run into on their latest shopping trip, and time melded around Nesta and held her captive. She imagined she'd been painted to match the printed wallpaper behind her, rendering herself invisible to the rest of the room.

To everyone except one, that was. But everytime she accidentally made eye contact with Cassian, she looked away before he could even register it. By the time she looked back, he'd refocused on whatever jokes or stories his friends were telling.

Thirty minutes passed by without anyone asking Nesta a question. She counted each one, until—

"So what do you do these days?"

It took a long moment of awkward silence before Nesta looked up from her plate to find Cassian staring at her, his eyes warm. She realized the question had been directed at her. "Me?" she said in disbelief, because she needed the confirmation.

"No, one of these other losers," he teased. Some made noises of mock-offense, while others stifled their laughter.

Nesta shifted uncomfortably at how all the attention in the room had shifted to her. Being ignored wasn't fun, true, but this was far worse. "I run a dance studio," she answered. She didn't mention anything about how she was also a ghostwriter of romance novels on the side, although maybe she might have admitted it if they'd been alone.

Cassian's eyes lit up, and he imperceptibly leaned forward over the table. "No way. What kind of dance?"

"Um, just pole for now." Normally she'd leave it at that, but something in her wanted to give the full picture to Cassian. "I'm working on hiring more teachers and splitting it into contemporary and hip-hop-based classes, though."

"No ballet?"

She shook her head, distracting herself from his heavy gaze by taking a bite of salad. Ballet had been Nesta's first love, even more so than the ballroom dancing her grandmother had forced upon her, but she'd been bitter for a long time at how puberty and big boobs had taken away any chance she'd had to dance professionally. More than that, its ways were too rigid and painful, and Nesta would rather teach students how to let go rather than restrain themselves.

"That's crazy," he said, grinning. "I never imagined you doing anything than classical."

Right. He'd seen tapes of her old performances once a long time ago, though she was surprised he still remembered them.

"Nesta got the idea from dancing at that strip club a few years ago," Morrigan interjected with a wave of her fork.

Nesta's face flamed with heat at the misinformation, because even though there was nothing wrong with being a stripper, there were certain things you couldn't say to certain people without being judged for it. Like announcing that you wrote erotica in your free time, or that you were bisexual.

"It was just a regular club, and I was a go-go dancer," she corrected, as if that would lighten the blow. Rhysand made a noise that implied this was not much better than stripping.

"Holy shit, how much have I missed?" Cassian sat back in his chair in disbelief, not picking up on the light waves of discomfort that floated around the group whenever Nesta's past was brought up. Then again, he'd never found anything about her to be uncomfortable.

After Feyre and Rhysand had cut off all sources of her income, she’d been forced to find a real job. Dancing was the only thing she’d been good at doing, and she knew from the seedy bars she frequented that one of the nearby nightclubs was hiring. Thanks to her body and skills, she’d been able to indulge her alcohol problem off tips alone, at least until she’d made the decision to get her life together. That had been a year and a half ago.

But she couldn’t tell any of this to Cassian. She didn’t need to, either, because Amren answered his question for her. “Nesta's unrecognizable from when you last saw her, isn't she?" she drawled. "Don't worry; I promise her personality's still the same."

"Indeed," Rhysand grumbled, and a few others laughed.

Cassian still had that smile glued to his face, but it now looked frozen and false, as if he was no longer happy but didn’t know what to do about it.

But the conversation was out of his control now, due to the unfortunate fact that once attention landed on Nesta, it was usually difficult to make it go away. The next thing she knew, she was being bombarded with questions from all sides of the table.

"Were you late tonight because of that old Toyota again? I told you you could afford a new car if you took up my job offer."

"One of my friends took a class at your studio and said it wasn't too bad. You should give me a free membership so I can see for myself."

"What's your new address again?" This one from Feyre. "I need it for my Christmas cards."

Nesta blinked hard, head spinning at everyone's words being thrown at her, wondering how unacceptable it would be if she just—snapped. Wondering if maybe she could get herself uninvited from these things from good.

"I—" Mor started to lob another question.

“Let the woman fucking breathe, Jesus,” Cassian chuckled into his wine glass, cutting her off. But it was targeted at the whole room to hear, and the bitterness beneath it was clear.

The room went still. Awkwardness, sharp and cold as ice, swept over the dinner table until Nesta felt like her bones were frozen in place.

When no one responded, Cassian took a large gulp of wine and set the glass down with a dull thud. “I mean, if we want her to come around more often maybe we shouldn’t be giving her reasons to never visit,” he said, his voice too loud in the quiet room.

“We’re just catching up since we never get to see her,” Feyre said, sounding hurt and defensive at the same time.

Rhysand’s barely-audible growl implied he wanted to kill whoever had put that hurt in her tone—which in this case and most cases, was Nesta.

“That’s enough,” a delicate but firm voice beside Nesta said. She felt a soft hand rest on her arm, and looked up to find Elain’s sympathetic brown eyes watching her. But when Elain opened her mouth to speak again, all that came out was, “Eat more, will you? You’re so skinny it’ll make the rest of us look bad.”

Nesta had actually been gaining healthy weight lately, but for some unfathomable reason this was Elain’s attempt at diffusing the hostility in the room, so Nesta hummed a sound that technically counted as a response and busied herself with picking at her cut of roast beef.

Her lack of aggression seemed to satisfy the table, and one by one, people slowly went back to ignoring her and redirecting their focus to another topic of conversation.

Not even a minute later, Morrigan cackled far louder than required at something Azriel had said, causing Nesta's shoulders to inch up toward her ears. The hand that held her fork had fallen still, and Nesta’s other hand was fluttering subtly on the table, her index finger digging sharply into the thin skin around her thumbnail. The pain was a welcome balm to her agitated nerves.

She forced her hand to straighten out and lie still when she noticed Cassian's gaze on her. The action only sent her pent-up nerves straight to her spine, where she feared they would spontaneously combust and cause a meltdown in front of the whole table.

But then she met his eyes, and something in her heart choked, then settled.

She’d long forgotten the true hazel of his eyes. Hazel could be any color and every color, but looking at Cassian now, even from this distance in this weak lighting, her brain was starting to fill in the gaps of her memory. So many shades of brown and yellow speckled with blue-green colliding together, reminding her of undiscovered planets.

He was the first to pull his gaze away, but it was slow and required effort. Spell broken, Nesta’s own gaze dropped to her plate. At the very least, she no longer felt like ripping her fingernails off.

Nesta was left fairly alone for the rest of the meal, but the odd tension that had formed with Cassian and spread over the rest of the room didn’t dissipate. Even when everyone once again became lost to bantering and arguing with each other, Nesta felt the sense of awareness burning along every line of her body. She tried telling herself it was just in her head, but when she caught Amren sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of her eye, it was undeniable.

As more and more people finished their plates, they got up from the table to use the bathroom, talk on the phone, or wander into the adjacent drawing room to make use of its minibar. Among the noise, Nesta quietly excused herself and made a beeline for the emptiest part of the first floor of the house.

Alone in the kitchen, she finally allowed herself a deep intake of air. It felt like her first breath all night.

Shuffling toward the liquor cabinet, she pulled the first bottle of red wine she could find and grabbed herself a glass. Low footsteps behind her made her look over her shoulder before she could open the bottle.

It was just Cassian. Though the sight of him made her insides flutter, she didn't think he would judge her for drinking, so she turned back to her glass and uncorked the bottle.

"I needed some air," he spoke after a few moments of silence. Nesta nodded as she filled her glass perhaps a little too high. He took a few more steps toward the counter where she stood, and she belatedly realized that he was trying to engage in conversation with her.

Her brain scrambled for something to say, and just as she thought of asking him if he wanted some wine as well, Cassian was speaking again. "I'm sorry for everyone's behavior back there. It was super embarrassing."

Oh no, Nesta internally groaned. She'd almost rather put up with Feyre's lecturing and Amren's nitpicking than deal with an apology.

"They're not usually like this," he promised. "Someone must have spiked their drinks tonight."

Nesta didn't bother telling him that he was wrong. She didn't know how to react to such an unexpected statement. "There's nothing to apologize for," she said, sounding stilted and awkward. "I'm not really a sensitive person."

"Still," he said, looking up at her, "the vibes in this place are so weird tonight." He shuddered to himself. "Don't you feel weird?"

Was he referring to his friends, the sharp-edged way they spoke to her, or something else? "Maybe because it's your first time back in a long time." Nesta shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I can think of a dozen other things I'd rather be doing right now than having dinner here."

Nesta glanced at him, her eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you missed your friends, though? They're so excited to see you."

He shook his head. "This is honestly, like, our fifth meeting together since I got back. I see them all the time."

"Ah."

"What about you?" he pressed. "Do you want to stay or go?"

Nesta looked around the kitchen as if someone else might have walked in during their conversation and he was talking to them instead. "What do you mean?" she said.

He let out a small laugh. "Do you want to ditch this dinner?"

"But—wouldn't that be rude?"

He shrugged as if the consequences didn't matter much to him. "The door's right there." He gestured with his head toward the hallway leading to the foyer.

Nesta didn't know what overcame her. She chugged as much of her glass of wine as she could and set it down with a thump, looking at Cassian. Less than a minute later, they were speeding out the front door on quiet feet, stifling laughter and the jingle of car keys as they went.

***

"What about my car?" Nesta asked as Cassian started up his Ford truck, turning the heat up to full blast.

"We'll come back for it later tonight," he promised, shifting into drive and pulling away from the hulking mansion. "After everyone's gone, so you don't have to run into them."

"That'll take hours, though," she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. There was never such thing as a short dinner when Feyre's inner circle were gathered together.

"I've got hours to kill," he shrugged, then glanced over at her. "You can go home whenever you want, though. I can drop you off or take you back to your car."

Nesta took half a second to mourn her dream of cuddling in bed with her books all night, then got past it. This wasn't such a bad replacement for her former plans, anyhow.

"What should we do?" she asked, hesitant excitement bubbling in her stomach. Cassian opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "Should we go to the movies? I wanted to see that new horror comedy—"

"I thought it wasn't out for another week."

"Oh." She sat back, trying to think of something else. "Is Nude still in theaters?"

Cassian chuckled. "Don't think so, Nes."

She ignored how the nickname made her feel. "What about Back to Black?"

"Director's a creep."

"The new Marvel movie?"

"Terrible reviews, and you hate mega-franchises."

True. "...Maybe we can just keep driving around?" she finally suggested.

Cassian surrendered with a cheery grin. "I love that idea." He glided into the right lane and made a turn that led them straight onto the highway. The truck hummed as it accelerated from 45 to 70.

In the dark lit only by the dashboard lights, Nesta kicked her heels off and stretched out in her seat, letting herself smile. She could hardly remember why she'd been struggling for air back at that dinner. This, driving at night with Cassian in silence, was one of the most relaxing feelings she'd ever experienced.

Even so, she was surprised to find she didn't mind it much when Cassian eventually interrupted the quiet.

“I really did miss you.” His words took her by surprise, and it must have showed in the look she threw him.

He chuckled lowly. “Is it that hard to believe?”

It was, actually, though Nesta didn’t tell him that. “I just don’t remember us being that close,” she said, shrugging. They’d rarely talked without Feyre or one of her friends in the room, and when they had talked alone, the conversations hadn’t been very deep. He’d tried to tease and challenge her in the beginning, as she was sure he did with every worthy person who came his way, but when Nesta was unresponsive to his efforts, he eventually dropped the asshole act.

“We weren’t,” Cassian agreed, “but sometimes your favorite people are the ones you see the least.”

That made Nesta’s breath hitch. He couldn’t mean it the way she thought he meant it. She couldn’t be his favorite.

"I had a huge crush on you when we first met, you know," he added.

Nesta’s shoulders deflated, in either relief or disappointment, she didn’t know. Of course; that was what he’d meant. She gave him a dry look in response. "Yeah, I sensed that."

He did a double-take from the road to her. "You did?"

It had been painfully obvious any time they were in the same room together, with the weight of Cassian's gaze feeling like hefting a barbell of anxiety and discomfort and embarrassment. She remembered how her skin would itch with how she blushed, how her throat would close up and her breathing would shallow out. It had felt like suffering from an allergic reaction.

Nesta didn't say any of that to Cassian now, though. "What made you stop liking me?" she asked instead, propping her elbow on the passenger-side window and leaning her head against her fist. She was genuinely curious to hear his answer. It had happened before she'd fallen too deep into her hole of depression and brought shame onto Feyre and the Archeron name, so it couldn't have been the fact that she'd been a hot mess. "Was I too rude? Too quiet? Too boring?" How had she let him down?

"What?" Cassian looked over at her like she'd gone insane. "No."

"Then what was it that made you stop liking me?" Because Cassian had stopped liking Nesta at a certain point. After a few awkward conversations and a failed attempt to spend time alone with her, Cassian had pulled away from Nesta as if he'd never known her in the first place. The heavy gazes lessened, then stopped altogether, and the conversation would rarely go past a friendly "hello" up until the day Cassian had left for the Peace Corps.

Cassian bit down on his lip, looking both amused and flustered by her scientific questioning. "I didn't stop liking you. I just stopped chasing you."

That information took Nesta by surprise. She was stunned, still figuring out what to say in response when Cassian continued, "I was too young and too stupid back then. I didn't know how to make decisions for myself, and I let other people convince me not to go after the things I wanted. I regretted it for a long time while I was away overseas, but eventually I just had to get over it, you know?"

Nesta blinked, staring out the windshield and saying nothing.

He'd wanted her. Even when she was drinking and fucking her way through every bar and club in the city, he'd wanted her, all the way up until the day he left—and even after that, if she was understanding him correctly.

"Anyway, what about you?" Cassian said, changing the topic. "You been seeing anyone lately?"

"Why? Are you asking for yourself?" She meant it to be taunting, but her natural deadpan tone made most things she said sound serious.

Cassian made a noise that sounded like a choked cough. "It was just a question."

She tried not to be disappointed at his response, even though it was no surprise that he was over her by now. Why would he be interested in reigniting something that had never sparked in the first place?

"No," she finally answered, her voice sounding small but not weak. "I haven't really been interested in meeting people lately, not even for casual hookups."

He threw a glance over at her, the surprise subtle but there. "Can I ask why?"

She shrugged, never having had to explain the answer to anyone else before. "I don’t like putting myself in situations where men want my body. I already feel like a blowup sex doll as it is, so it’s better to not date at all."

"Why would you feel like that?" Cassian said, the slightest hint of alarm and concern creeping into his tone. "Did somebody call you that?"

She shifted in her seat, feeling awkward at being put on the spot. "I don’t know, it’s just the way my body’s built. I’m always getting asked whether I do porn or have an OnlyFans. People always give me their unwanted opinions on my boobs or my hips or my butt."

"Who said that to you?" he demanded.

"I was a go-go dancer, remember?"

"That's not an answer." His voice was hard. "Or an excuse."

"I only told you because you asked why I don't date," she said sharply, suddenly cold. "I don't need your pity." And she was regretting opening up so much to him so soon.

Cassian opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off before he could decide to pity her anyway. "What would you do with the names of my harrassers, anyway? Find them and beat them up? Give them a real piece of your mind?" she mocked. "You can barely stand up to your own friends when they're being dickheads, tough guy."

Cassian made a choking sound, which soon devolved into wheezing, and when Nesta finally looked over at him she found that his shoulders were shaking with restrained laughter. Her brows scrunched up in confusion, her nerves getting whiplash from the sudden shift in mood.

"Holy shit, there she is," he barely got out between laughs of disbelief. "Where the hell was she all this time?"

"Who?" Her bafflement must have been written all over her face.

"The proud Nesta I first met so many years ago," he stated. "The one who'd rather choke to death on her own arrogance than give in to someone else."

Nesta felt like he'd just pointed to an obvious crumbling corpse that everyone else was trying hard to forget was in the room. That prideful Nesta was the opposite of the person she was trying to be these days, even though her ghost might have made an appearance when she'd been a little unnecessarily rude to Cassian just now.

She only shook her head, denying that old version of herself's right to exist. "I don't have the time or energy to be that person anymore. And I hate getting into fights. Losing all the time gets exhausting fast."

Instead of responding with something witty, Cassian drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel, his tongue poking into his cheek as he clearly thought something over. "The Nesta I knew never used to lose an argument," he finally said.

"A lot of things change once you lose all your financial and social capital," she murmured, almost too quiet for him to hear. It was the closest they'd gotten all night to touching upon that uncomfortable period of her life—Alcoholic Whore Gone Wild, as Amren had coined it. But she couldn't bear exposing that part of her past to Cassian, even though he'd already witnessed it with his own two eyes. She refused to say more, not wanting him to remember what a mess she'd been only a few years ago.

"Is it Rhys and the rest of the guys?" Cassian said, plowing right through the topic she was trying to avoid. "Did they outnumber you into changing so you'd fit into his PR campaigns or something?"

Cassian was scarily close to being on the nose of what had actually gone down, and it made Nesta flare her nostrils in defense. "I don't think we're close enough to be talking about things like this." She was back to being cold, even though it required more effort this time. "Change the subject."

"Fine," he said casually, though not even the dark could hide the subtle tightness of his jaw. "Let's go back to that sex-doll thing then. Did that start before or after I left?"

"Are you my therapist?" she felt the need to resist against him.

"Do you ever answer questions without another question?" he shot back. When Nesta still refused to budge, he released a sigh. "You just never seemed to me like someone who gave a shit about how others saw you. That was what made you Nesta. So yeah, sue me if I wanna know more about how your pretty little brain works."

Nesta swallowed his words like a rough pill, doing her best not to linger on the word "pretty". Now that he didn’t seem so uncomfortably shocked by her confession, she twisted toward him like she was telling a juicy story. Honestly, she felt a perverted excitement at getting to discuss parts of her life that she never got to speak about otherwise. "I used to not care that much about it," she started, "but one day while I was alone at home I saw my ass in skinny jeans in the mirror. I don’t know, it just flipped a switch in me. I felt so dirty. Like an object to be used instead of a person. And I realized that was how most people probably perceived me, too. It freaked me out so bad I just retreated from men and the dating pool altogether."

She felt dirty going out in certain clothes, and dirtier still when other people looked at her in those clothes. Even the dress she’d worn tonight, formfitting with the neckline cut out to accentuate her chest, had required her to avoid full-length mirrors while getting ready. She knew it wasn’t normal to feel the way she felt, but she also knew there wasn’t much to be done about it.

Cassian let out a low whistle. "That’s fucked."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No." His answer was smooth. "But I think you'll get mad at everything else I want to say, so I'll leave it at that. It's really fucked you have to feel that way, Nesta."

Her swallow was tight, and she was more than a little surprised. Never in a million years could the Nesta of three years ago have imagined Cassian talking with her about things like this, and more than that, comforting her.

In truth, she had thought about Cassian too while he was gone. She wouldn’t say she’d missed him, because she didn’t know how to miss something she never had, but there’d been an empty longing on the rare occasions she thought of him. A bittersweet desire for what could have been, if only she’d been less of a mess and more of an easy person to be around.

She didn’t know how to tell him this, so she settled for, “For what it's worth, I really am happy that you're back.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassian stifle a smile. He roughly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You wanna go to Town Square and see the Christmas lights?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.”

Nesta tucked her feet beneath herself and got comfortable, and they continued driving in companionable silence. Twinkling holiday lights and towering decorations passed in a blur outside the windows, and at one point Cassian stopped at an In-N-Out to order fries and a milkshake. "You didn't eat much back at the house," was his only explanation as he handed the food over to Nesta.

She accepted the kindness without complaint, happily munching on fries and melting into her heated seat. Something about the warm truck made her forget time was moving, but the next time she pulled her gaze away from the windshield to check the clock, she saw it was already midnight.

Cassian seemed to take note of it at the same time she did. “Damn, I have an early morning tomorrow…” He trailed off, not stating the obvious—that their little getaway drive had to come to an end.

“Me too,” Nesta lied, so she didn’t sound stupid for wanting to stay like this, driving in silence.

She turned on her phone for the first time all night, finding no less than five missed calls and a handful of upset texts from her sisters. Holding back a grimace, she shut her phone off again. "Maybe you can drop me off at home instead of at Feyre’s."

"You sure?" Cassian looked over at her. "What about your car?"

She waved a hand. "I'll get it back later. I just want to be home right now."

Cassian didn’t hesitate before making a U-turn off the left lane. “You still live in Brentwood?” he asked casually.

Brentwood, with the roach-infested grimy one-bedroom she’d inhabited in the depths of her depression, back when it was all she could afford and all she could stomach to come home to after a long day of self-hatred.

Unlike most, Cassian had never judged her for it. He’d even shown up on her ratty doorstep one Christmas Eve to drop off gifts from her sisters, saying nothing but that he hoped she would be okay, and to have a merry Christmas. There was no direct mention of her obvious miserable state, but no tense avoidance of it, either. It had been the most ordinary interaction Nesta’d had that year: short, sweet, and simple.

Nesta blinked herself out of the sudden memory. Being reunited with Cassian was bringing back too many moments she’d forgotten had happened. She shook her head, even though he probably couldn’t see. “I moved to Goldridge.”

“Ooh, fancy,” he teased. He pulled out his phone and held it out to her. “Put your address into the GPS.”

Clicking on his phone, Nesta found notifications for several missed calls and texts on his screen as well. They were at least double the amount she had, but she didn’t let her eyes linger on the messages as she swiped up onto the home screen. Of course he didn’t have a password on his phone. He could be so dumb sometimes.

Typing her address into his Maps app, she turned the navigation on and set his phone down in the cupholder between them.

Cassian glanced over to it and squinted to read her address while he drove. "That's only twenty minutes away from where I live."

"Really?" Nesta perked up, intrigued. In the past, Cassian had always been an hour or so away, considering the heavy traffic between Velars and it's poorer outskirt cities. Now he was basically her neighbor. "But isn’t it far from your friends and family?”

She'd purposely chosen her current home for the distance it placed between her and said friends and family.

Cassian shrugged as he merged onto the highway. “Not too far, but not too close, either.”

The rest of the drive passed with light conversation between them. Addicted to how the low rumble of his voice paired with the darkness of the night roads made her feel fuzzy and sleepy, Nesta let Cassian ramble to her about his time in Tunisia while she leaned back in her seat, her eyes millimeters away from drooping shut.

Sometime later, Cassian pulled up to the curb of her brownstone townhouse and put the truck into park. He let out a low whistle as he inspected the tall windows and the quality brickwork, then looked back at Nesta, who was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes, with an embarrassed grin. “I’m a fool. I completely forgot to ask how you ended up with your dance studio.”

Nesta opened her mouth to tell him about her business, but Cassian shook his head fast. “Don’t tell me now. I want to hear the whole story, sometime when the night isn’t right about to end.”

Sometime other than now…? “What do you mean?” she voiced.

He met her gaze with serious intention, no amusement or nervousness to be found. “I’d like to see you again, Nesta Archeron.”

The words hung between them like the start of a promise.

Despite the sudden warmth flooding her insides, Nesta was hesitant with her answer. She still didn't completely trust Cassian—nor herself when she was around him. She didn't want to spiral into obsession over him just for him to break her heart. She still needed to test the rock face of this thing between them, checking for cracks and loose areas that could give way. “I’ll think about it," she finally said.

Cassian's lips slowly curled up into a clever smile, looking like he'd just won a prize. "Give me your keys." He held his broad hand out.

Nesta frowned. "What for?"

"I'll bring your car over in the morning. It'll be a quick drop-off."

"You really don't need to..." She trailed off as Cassian reached over and stuck his hand in her tiny purse, quickly finding and pulling out the shiny keys. He jingled them in her face. "Thanks for these," he said, as if she were the one doing him a favor.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then nodded. She'd given up on trying to keep pace with their conversations, especially not when he rendered her speechless so often. "I should get inside now," she said.

"Don't freeze on the way to the door," he said, even though it couldn't have been more than a ten second walk. Again, was he teasing or being genuine? Or somehow both at the same time?

"Get home safe," she responded, because that was the only phrase her encyclopedia for social etiquette held right now. She exited the car and reached inside again to grab her purse. She might have left it behind so she'd have an excuse to linger in the pinecone-scented warmth of his truck for a bit longer. Eventually, she had to force her head out of the front seat, away from Cassian's kind smile and gorgeous eyes. "Goodnight, Cassian." Nesta shut the door between them, eager to end their interaction quickly so she could go inside and spend the whole night thinking about him.

Even with the door shut and the windows too dark to make out Cassian's face, Nesta swore she could feel it in her bones when he murmured back, "Goodnight, Nesta."

***

a/n: the gifts were not from her sisters…but that’s a story for later (never)

tags:

@rarephloxes @moodymelanist @arinbelle @sayosdreams @bridgertononmymind @live-the-fangirl-life @a-court-of-valkyries @secretlovelybeauty @humanexile @helion-ism @my-fan-side @royaltykxx @xoblivisci @planet-faerie @katekatpattywack @imagine-me @meridainthedisneyland @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @rainbowcheetah512 @valkyriewarriors @loosingdreams @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @perseusannabeth @that-golden-lyre @swankii-art-teacher @laylaameer01 @awesomelena555 @claralady @ghostlyrose2 @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @cassianscool @wannawriteyouabook @everything-that-i-love @sv0430 @xstarlightsupremex @faeriebambula

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #taylor swift song drabbles #ncssian asks #nessian fic

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valeriefauxnom · 1 year ago

Text

Another episode of 'missing the forest for the trees' by taking things far too literally

And today, it's models! Specifically, Euden's models, who, when I was talking with WillofWinnie and showing how the Mega Monarch Emile fight had a mini model cutscene before, some with funny expressions looking up at him, when I could have sworn I saw something.

Gala Euden's model seemed to be tinier than Euden's. (No don't worry, this isn't going to be more of the whole 5'1 semi-joke line here from earlier!).

Here's a good example of what I mean, with 3/4 of his models in a line.

See how Base Euden just, overall has a bigger frame? Than the other two. Like, his curiass more juts outward, whereas G!Euden's plate actually cuts inward to him at a spot. So then, naturally, I laid the two on top of eachother to see if one actually had a bigger presence or if my eyes were playing tricks. And while the results aren't definitive, I think base Euden has an overall bigger 'influence'.

Euden's entirely subsumed his G!Euden's face, not even some of the weird expression clipping you see when you do this with some other models. The actual main part of his torso is base Euden, and while G!Euden does peek out in some spots, even they kinda get overtaken by some of og!Euden's decorations, like the orange stripe on the cloth. His legs are also almost all og!Euden.

The scales tip even more for a comparison to Bondforged vs og:

Now, here's where I give the obligatory, "there's a far more rational explanation to this than a deliberate decision" in the form of helping the game run better as well as getting more experienced with creating models with more detail in less space. Take a look at the wireframe for og! and G! Euden's models. In general, less lines mean better performance (or so I understand in my very minimalistic coding understanding)

(Pictured: the nightmarish Euden you can see at 3am only on Halloween if you turn around and say 'triangle Euden' 3x over...)

It's kinda hard to tell, but Gala Euden overall is a bit less dense with them in spots. WillOfWinnie confirmed that overall it seems like they got better at making wireframes with fewer vertices (though summer Euden kinda throws that out the window because, as Winnie says, more skin=harder to look good with fewer lines as the lines=/smooth, round areas well).

So there's the rational explanation for that. And of course, throw in possible stylistic shifts for how they wanted the models to look and we can pretty much put this to bed instead of a grand conspiracy.

Still. Overthinking is my hallmark.

And all I can say is that it's great unintentional angst fodder that would fit nicely within the canon story. Euden's suddenly been thrust into leading a new nation in war, reeling from his only surviving parent's death and struggling to deal with the rest of his siblings for one reason or another (even if most weren't close). He's also doing vastly more exercise than whatever sword training he did at the castle between actually fighting in battles, traveling, and shapeshifting and thus expending a lot more energy.

Between that and other little differences in the models (Euden actually gets paler for his summer art and continues this into Bondforged, as you can kinda see in the face for og vs bonds overlay) is it any wonder that he might've grown a bit thinner from all that stress and constant work? My boy is out here collapsing a bit too often, it seemed, in stories too. Maybe he just wasn't eating enough to upkeep with all the crazy shenanigans going on if he was trying to temper his eating so Cleo didn't have to deal with yet another young man with the appetite of an elephant with Ranzal and Luca?

As me and my friend were injecting a bit of levity: "Maybe that's why his belt fits perfectly in his og model but all the ones after it he's got plenty extra" and "no wonder his summer trunks look like they're about to fall off without the belt: he went shopping with his previous last known sizes from before he left the castle" as further 'proof' of this obviously false theorem.

But hey, as Winnie said: "Pretty neat it can line up like that, intentional or no". And that really says it all.

Bonus round: Gotta give the award for 'most unfitting belt on Euden' to this concept art of him in the official artbook, though. I mean look at they are compared to where his body actually is! (I do like the little butterfly in the background crystal art though, aside from the whole black vs. white and red edginess).

#dragalia lost #dragalia #somehow all the concept arts of Euden give me very different personality vibes. More on that later. Probably.#anyways this is stealth 'Euden was terrible at self-preservation' propaganda since goodness knows he sure had. some concerning patterns.

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moemoemammon · 3 years ago

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Brothers reaction to MC suddenly holding their hands to compare the size difference uwuwuwu

Hand Size Comparison

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

As always, he asks for your company while he’s busy with his endless amounts of paperwork. You watch him scribble away and the knot on his brow starts becoming tighter and tighter, but you’re more focused on the old man’s hands.

They’re gripped around his feather quill, and you decide they’d look much better gripping your hand, so you take Lucifer’s hand and watch his eyes go wide

Casually pull that glove off and his hands are hella cold but big. Long fingers gently close around yours once he gets used to the contact, and his grip feels weary.

His skin is a little dry, and fingertips slightly calloused from gripping pens and flipping papers. The red of his nails makes his skin look even paler to you.

“Your hands are quite warm, MC. Taking off my glove like that, and in the middle of my work, too... Were you that desperate for my attention? Or maybe you noticed how tired I am, and you’re comforting me? Either way, I’m happy to take a break and spend my time with you.”

Mammon

He’s in the middle of scrolling away on his D.D.D., so you make better use of his hands and grab it into yours. Naturally Mammon nearly has a heart attack.

Gets all grumbly and ""annoyed"" with you, saying this and that about how you’ve gotta warn a guy before you go grabbing his hand, but makes no actual effort to pull away from you.

Warm hands and kinda soft, and bigger than you expected. His nails are nearly trimmed and painted, but you know that’s thanks to Asmo.

His grip closes around your hand and it feels nearly impossible to pull away, despite how careful he’s being not to hurt you. Leave it to the Avatar of Greed to have a grip game this strong-

“What’re ya lookin’ at my hands like that for? If ya wanted to hold em, y-ya just gotta say somethin’. And you’re only allowed to hold MY hand, got it?”

Levi

His hands only know one thing, and it’s gaming. Eons of clicking away at buttons and abusing joysticks makes for quick hands. Not quick enough to get away from yours, though.

You grab his hand while he’s got his eyes on the latest episode of Ruri Hana, and Levi almost ascends to heaven right then and there.

It’s covered in light callouses, and his fingers are slender and long, knuckles prominent. It’s still larger than yours though, and cracks when he flexes it.

Clammy hands don’t even attempt to close around yours. He’s too focused on trying to figure out what you’re doing!

“This is way too much stimulation, MC! I’m gonna need a warning- no, a WEEK’S notice before you do that! Th-there’s no way I’m even at the skill level that’ll let me do this sort of thing, and- Huh? Wait, don’t let go just yet-!”

Satan

Flipping through the pages of a book and barely notices when you grab his hand, until he attempts to turn it again and finds he?? can’t??

oh. O H. Satan’s not normally one to be flustered but that caught him off guard. His eyes are a little wide, but he doesn’t attempt to pull back. He’s more interested in the way you’re studying his hand without a word, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t kinda like it.

His fingertips are rough from ages spent trailing along book pages. Hands are kinda smaller and his fingers are shorter than you expected now that you compare, but they’re nearly hot to the touch and tightly close around yours.

He gives you and affectionate squeeze and a gentle smile. You know how dangerous those hands could be, so isn’t it funny how careful they are with yours? He’s had plenty of practice handling things with care, since his favorite novels are the oldest ones.

“I don’t mind if you hold my hand like this. I only need one to turn pages with, right? You did surprise me though, but I’m not upset. This is nice.”

Asmo

He’s painting your nails when you decide to lace your fingers into his. Asmo doesn’t mind the intimacy, but couldn’t you do this once your nails dry? He’ll be annoyed if anything gets smudged!

But that mild panic melts away when he sees how delicately you’re handling him, like his hand is some sort of prized jewel. Even his hands are beautiful, right? He’s so glad you’ve noticed~!

His hands are soft and smooth, warm and careful. More slender than you expected, so they look dainty and fragile.

There’s not a single flaw you can detect, from his carefully manicured fingers to knuckles free of hair.

“There’s much more I can do with these hands, you know? As nice as it is to have you look at them, I’d much rather show you what I can use them for~!”

Beel

Right hand is reserved specifically for eating, so you choose to take the left. He never minds holding your hand, so his cheeks are a little rosy and his eating has slowed.

Sticky hands, but big and warm. Feels like a hug when his closes around yours. His palms are a little rough from his exercise and fangol practice.

His grip is always oh so gentle, like he might hurt you should he squeeze a little tighter. You can appreciate that though, since you don’t doubt it’d be easy for him to pop your bones like bubble wrap.

His hands may be a little clumsy, and detail work isn’t his forte. You know when he’s been up to something by the bandages that cover his fingers.

“Mm? Is there something on my hands? I forgot to grab a napkin, so I’m sorry if they’re sticky. But... I like this. Holding your hand while I eat makes everything taste better.”

Belphie

If he can’t cling to you like a demon koala while he naps, hand holding is a must. No you don’t have a choice in the matter, sorry.

You trace little patterns against his palm, handling his hand gently while you flip it back and forth, looking it over. It feels ticklish and makes him squirm.

Baby hands for a baby man. His hands are narrow and thin, fingers slender while his skin soft and clammy. Warm too, from always being balled into fists while he sleeps, or clenching onto something.

It’s funny to think that these hands were used to kill you, considering how delicate they feel. But his tight grip is nearly impossible to pull away from, and sometimes it hurts a little. He eases up when he realizes that though, and it reminds you of how desperate he always is to keep you close.

“Sorry, am I squeezing again? I guess I got a little carried away. I just have a feeling that someone might come in at any second, and I don’t want them to steal you away. But you’ll stay here anyway, right?”

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forbidding-souda · 2 years ago

Note

Miu with a princess s/o

Miu Iruma with a princess s/o

les claypool show tomorrow W

and my piercings are healing hella good this shit is fire asf my tongue swelling has gone down (a little but it's noticable in terms of how it was before)

currently watching: Goofiest Game Ever

✯✯✯✯✯

-Mod Souda

✯✯✯✯✯

✯ Royalty, it's strict and its keen, it's developed from years and years of commitment and legalities, but you have a bit of a rebellious spirit, aren't you? You went beyond what the 'ideal' partner for you is. You were supposed to be paired with a prince, somebody from a neighboring kingdom who would bring richness to your family and the bloodline. You didn't care to pursue that future. Miu is beautiful and she is the supportive, entertaining, and equally mutinous person that you want. The thing that you like the most is how she does not treat you like a princess. It is something that caught you off guard at first. She was not afraid to be her true self around you (i.e. naked) and she doesn't censor herself. You are used to people giving you calming smiles and having gentle tones. She is nothing like that.

You bite the inside of your lip, giving her the bag. You tried to make her feel more at-home by ordering your servant to buy the cheapest looking bag from the dollar store. She sits inside of your bedroom, the room bigger than her kitchen and living room combined, with the color of golds and whites making her presence feel unclean. "I hope you like it," you say softly. You honestly don't know if she will. When she starts opening it, you suddenly get more nervous, so you start to talk again. "It's something I've been thinking about for awhile. I know you don't wear the jewelry that my parents give you, and that's fine, I mean, I don't either, and I know you probably won't wear this too but as long as you know that it means a lot to me then..." She opens the box inside and looks at the necklace. It's wired and holds a bright blue jewel on the inside. She looks up at you. You give her a desperate smile. "It's the same color as your eyes." "S-Seriously?.. Did you really... get this for me?" "Well, yeah. I got it made for you, too, look." You take it from her hands and turn it around. The wire holding it together is shaped into a big, filled heart that spells out her name in the inside. "Just for you." "What?! Why would you even do this?" Her cheeks get red. "Just take it," you ignore her high guards. "I know you love me." "Y-Yeah, yeah, yeah." She snatches it, putting it over her head and around her neck. "Maybe I do."

✯ She can say that all of her inventions are sponsored by you and your family (and she does say this).

✯ If the two of you are public then she gets a lot more opportunities when it comes to who commissions her and who wants to view her high-tier products.

✯ TBH, when it comes to presenting herself in front of royals and such, she enjoys the makeover. She likes when people do her hair and makeup. And even though she keeps accidentally smearing it, and her boobs don't seem to fit in any dress tailored, she likes the look of appreciation you get when you see her dressed as if she was expensive.

✯ ^ She doesn't change her mannerisms, though.

✯ Tbh as much as I wanna be like bleh ur family hates her! I literally can only imagine them liking her. Horrible comparison but like a jester. They think she's so funny and unique.

✯ They dress her up in jewels and the most elaborate things just because they love treating her.

✯ It's so funny when, outside of her house, a huge limo will pull up to bring her over. Sometimes she goes in wearing only her bra and some pajama pants and sunglasses, other times it's just her robe (even if it's at like 4pm).

✯ The really like only thing she takes seriously is paparazzi. She will pose stiffly for them and then laugh at the photos, thinking it's so funny how it's like looking in through a window, as if it isn't her she's looking at.

#miu iruma #miu iruma x reader #danganronpa #princess s/o

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hugespace · 3 years ago

Note

Therapy helps rhett realize that all of those "I'm dead" UFC moves were actually just a way to fulfill his need for physical intimacy at a time in his life where he didn't feel it was acceptable to ask for it, especially from another man. Now that they're both adults and completely different people than they were in college, rhett decides it's time to explain it all to link and let him know that he actually misses that physical contact with him.

It took me a really long while, but I finally finished this one! I really loved that prompt, so thank you so much for giving it to me, lovely Anon. I was initially going to write it as a platonic/romantic friendship kinda story, but it seems I'm determined to write a hundred different first kiss + feelings realisation scenarios, I simply enjoy those way too much.

*** 2,5K ***

Let me hold you

He’s done it again.

Not so long ago, Rhett promised himself not to bring it up in front of cameras or a microphone unless he talks it out with Link, privately.

Especially not as a joke.

And he’s failed already, he scolds himself short after the Ear Biscuits episode is recorded and they’re both out of the room, heading back towards their office.

He thinks he could have just omitted it, shouldn’t have mentioned anything. It simply wasn’t necessary to mull over it again, even with the topic of the episode revolving around their college experience. It wasn’t a big deal, he said it himself, countless times. Every time they talked about it on the show.

So, every time.

There’s never been a conversation in private about that incident or anything that preluded it, never in the absence of people to entertain, never not around at least one recording device. Because why would there be? It wasn’t a big deal. A funny story, s’all.

He’s also never been able to just let things go, though, and thanks to that inability, the lore of wrestling and the “I’m dead” move had to live on. It was an innocent story, a funny albeit embarrassing one – their unofficial brand after all, an easy misunderstanding and a fun little anecdote, not his carefully curated version of what happened, nor a watered-down one, not just a part of the entire story devoid of any feelings associated with it, not a big deal-! And most of all, not… true. Not true.

Rhett isn’t sure if Link has been consciously going along with that wordlessly agreed upon version of what their UFC phase looked like, repressing the truth behind it, or… simply never realised what it meant for Rhett and genuinely thought of it as a humorous yet insignificant part of their friendship in the past.

Most likely the third option, he has to assume. After all, why would Link attach any meaning to it? It’s not like anything actually ever happened, not outside of Rhett’s mind at least. Frankly, he himself went decades without understanding his own motivations, more than once confused by why the memories of wrestling with his friend and laying on top of him felt both shameful and deeply comforting. Why even long after they grew up, stopped being kids, and as a result retired all their UFC moves, the only way he could describe what he felt thinking about that time was longing.

Until therapy happened.

Just like with many different things in his life:

There was something in the darkness, and then therapy shone a light on it.

It was like there were countless situations he navigated solely on instinct, without paying much thought to the reasons behind why he acted a certain way, and once therapy equipped him with the ability to do so, he unearthed an entire deep layer of feelings and emotions that were always there. Just hidden, even from himself.

The wrestling being one of those things.

So, he thinks Link doesn’t know.

And he’s finally determined to change that.

Why now, when he’s had so many chances to talk to Link over the years ever since he started being more in touch with himself? He doesn’t really have an answer; it’s just that after talking about it with such levity again, after repeatedly making a joke out of it, it feels like he might explode if he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t confess to Link what it was really like. And most of all, it feels like the yearning has become stronger lately, and the conversation yet again playing it all off as them being young and silly only ignited it, made the flame inside of Rhett burn brighter, threatening to make his heart combust.

“I need to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind.” Rhett says easily once they’re in the office. It’s not an unsure statement or a nervous plea with words tumbling out of his mouth before he can lose his cool and change his mind. It would have been all that and more a couple of years ago, sure.

But he’s a different man now. He’s not afraid to tell the person who’s been with him for almost the entirety of his life what he feels.

Link, however. He does look unsure, a bit alarmed even, when he looks at Rhett and responds.

“Sure-? What is it? Do you wanna talk now?”

It’s just like him to worry. Run a hundred different scenarios in his head, most of them negative, trying to prepare himself for every possible outcome of a serious conversation before it even began. It’s an anxious survival instinct that makes Link resilient to even the worst that life has to offer and able to face it all head on. But right now, it’s nothing scary. Rhett doesn’t want his friend to be worried, so he quickly says as much.

“Don’t worry, s’not bad. Just something we talked about on the podcast today.” The blonde sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him, hoping he appears to be as calm as he truly feels inside and that it might dissolve some of Link’s concern, still written all over his face.

The other man takes his place on the sofa and looks at him expectingly.

“Right. So-“ Rhett’s calmness doesn’t completely evaporate once Link gives him his full attention, but it’s suddenly laced with some nerves. “About the wrestling. You know, in college. And before that. And- Especially about my ‘I’m dead’ move. I’ve been thinking about it, and-“

“Rhett, I swear, if you made me sit down for a talk only to tell me you’d like to make it a part of our conflict resolution again, then ha-ha. Very funny. I’d like to go get myself some coffee now.” Link cuts him off with an unamused look in his eyes and almost makes a move to stand up.

Rhett is quicker though and grabs the brunette’s arm before he can really move, effectively making him stay in place.

“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying. Like, at all. I-“ He realises he’s still holding onto Link’s arm and instinctively wants to retract his hand, but that same feeling that led him to initiating this conversation in the first place makes him reconsider. “I’ve been thinking about what it all meant and why I did that, especially when we fought or you were angry with me, and-“

“Because we were young.” Link quickly answers what wasn’t even a question. “We had too much energy and neither of us really wanted to hurt the other by punching him or- or fighting in earnest. What else would it mean.”

“Link can you let me talk? I’m trying to say something important.” Rhett squeezes Link’s forearm. “So, as I was saying. I mostly did it when you were angry or I was feeling unsure, and I didn’t realise it back then, but- But I know now, that I just… needed reassurance. You know, physical contact.” He explains, looking straight into Link’s eyes and trying to interpret his reaction before it comes.

When nothing happens, and the brunette just stares back at him with a furrowed brow, he feels compelled to continue and elaborate.

“Like when people… hug after an argument-?” His brain almost challenges him to make a different comparison, presenting a parallel between laying half-naked on top of your best friend and another activity people often partake in to make up after a fight. But that’s not- It’s not what he’s trying to say. It’s not like that.

The face in front of him frowns in confusion, blue eyes squinting and mouth opening and closing again, only letting out a puff of air and no sound at first.

When Link finally responds, his voice is unsure, like he suspects that he’s not understanding something right. “Are you trying to tell me you wanted to hug me when we bickered, so you pushed me to the floor and laid on me till I was even angrier, instead…?”

That’s not fully what Rhett meant, but it’s close enough, so he nods.

“What the crap, Rhett-? You're not making any sense.”

“Okay, listen…” He decides to go for a different approach. “We still don’t hug after arguments. We never hug hello. I think I could count on my fingers how many times we’ve actually hugged each other as adults, outside of the show!”

“Yeah! That’s just not what we do! We’ve never done those things, it’s just not a part of our relationship- I still don’t know what you wanna tell me here Rhett.” Link throws his hands in the air in a gesture of resignation.

“I want it to be a thing we do, okay?! I always did, but I was afraid to ask for it so I just took what you could give me without talking about it. Can’t have actual intimacy? Make up a UFC thing so I can be close to you! Can’t hold you when I’ve made you mad? Better lay on top of you till you give up and have no choice but stop!” Rhett pauses to finally take a breath.

“That time that guy saw us- I’m sure you remember I stormed off right after-? I panicked, it was like him seeing us and thinking there was something else happening almost made feel like it was something else, and since I started it, it also felt like I wanted it to be something else. I got so angry at myself for even trying and I never did it again. I’m sure you remember that, too!” Words flow out of Rhett in a hurried and increasingly loud cascade, while Link’s eyes grow bigger and comprehension dawns on his face.

“I know how stupid it sounds. But you know how I was. We were well into our thirties when I still refused to get close to you. And it’s not that I didn’t want to, it was the opposite – I wanted it a lot, man.”

„But I thought...?” Link seems to be turning a thought over in his head. “I thought you just never liked it. That the wrestling thing was about you… asserting dominance. That’s what it felt like at least. Like you trying to act like an older brother or somethin’.”

“No- It was me wanting to be close to you and not knowing how to ask for it. My very convoluted way of expressing love, you could call it. And I’m sorry it took me-“

“What changed-? I mean, what made you wanna talk about it?” There’s urgency in Link’s voice when he cuts Rhett off.

“I… I realised I miss it. I told you, we still don’t really hug or get intimate, however that sounds, and I’m not gonna just topple you and pin you to the ground again. We’re too old for that. For once, I don’t think either my back or your shoulders would survive if we started wrestling every time I wanted to be affectionate. But also- We’re over forty, Link. What does it say about me if I can’t just ask a person I love and have loved for almost four decades to hold me when I need it and would resort to, well, aggression-? That’s not how it should work.”

Link ponders Rhett’s words for a few beats before opening his mouth again, only to let three breathy words escape. “You love me-?”

It seems like the wrong thing to focus on, Rhett just opened up to say he not only craves physical intimacy now, but also struggled with that same need when they were younger so badly, he had to invent an entire intricate system allowing him to be closer, and Link questions the one thing he knows already. Because of course he knows, Rhett’s said as much dozens of times, of course he loves him. But it appears he has to say it anyway, judging from the weird look in Link’s eyes.

“I do, of course I lo-“ The blonde begins, yet he doesn’t get a chance to finish and ask whether Link heard the other part of his confession at all, because at once, his mouth isn’t free to keep talking and there’s no air left in his lungs as the man who was just sitting right next to him plunges forward and collides with him, lips first.

Oh. Rhett manages to form one more coherent thought despite being startled and entirely taken aback. Link misunderstood. That’s why he got hung up on the love confession. That’s not what Rhett meant, that’s not what he was trying to say, it’s not like that-

He feels like he should clear things up as quickly as possible. Logically, he should be panicking, racking his brain for a way to straighten things up, to explain to Link that it wasn’t what he was trying to say without making things worse, without ruining everything and making his best friend feel miserable and embarrassed, until…

Until Rhett realises his body went rogue and started responding without his conscious decision, his lips are moving against the other man’s, one of his hands is cupping Link’s face, while the other strayed away and is caressing his back. And it feels like his heart is trying to break out of the ribcage with how hard it’s pounding in his chest, along with his stomach doing wild summersaults. And he’s not panicking, not at all. And it’s not a misunderstanding, how could it, when he loves Link with his entire soul, with his whole being- And exactly like that, it hits him. Starting this conversation, he thought he already understood everything, but he didn’t– there was still that last puzzle piece missing.

They come up for air, panting from the intensity of that first kiss, foreheads flush with each other. Rhett finishes the sentence he began before Link’s move changed everything. “Of course I love you.” He means it now, he means it exactly like Link took it and can’t comprehend how he didn’t think of it before, but it’s perfectly obvious now.

So he hugs Link. He encircles the man’s body with his long arms, squeezes, and holds him, feels his friend snuggle into him, nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, holding Rhett's larger body in return.

All he needed was ask for the closeness.

He asked, and he got it.

He got all he wanted and so much more.

So, so much.

#rhink fic #anonymous prompt #my writing

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Note

I've been watching your blog for awhile and I gotta say, it's fantastic. You tick so many of my favorite boxes! Poly Kiribaku, breeding/pregnancy etc, the recent virgin!bakugou content and more!

I know it has been a little while but the Kiribaku aftercare post reminded me of some thoughts I had about the older Kiribaku pregnant S/O stuff and I hope you don't mind if I share.

Obviously their SO would be the most protected pregnant lady ever. While I am confident almost no one would even be able to look at them funny if by some weird chance a bystander makes one of those rude comments people always love to say to pregnant ladies, I can only imagine how quick they'd be dust.

I have several more, but I don't want this to get to long. If it's not a bother, I'd love to send them as well. Idk if you pick your nonnies emojis or if they do. If I can pick, is this fox ok? 🦊 Really hope I'm not bugging you!

cw // pregnancy + kiribaku, lots of fluff !!

i wanna start by saying thank you so much for supporting my blog :( it truly means the entire world to me !! you’re never bugging and in fact, i love when people share their ideas with me and i can write with them!! so you’re more than welcome to come back any time !! ( also you can more than definitely be 🦊 anon!! n sorry for taking so long to reply )

as we already know, your unborn child is practically the most protected infant on the planet and they’re not even born yet. they would be when their fathers are pro heroes red riot and dynamight. from the moment they found out you’d all be parents, bakugou and kirishima immediately jumped into action— filling your house with everything you could ever need during your pregnancy.

baby books are usually splayed out across the sofa, kirishima enthusiastically learning little tid bits about pregnancy ( that you most likely already know from doctors appointments ), to share with you with a puppy dog eyes and a bright smile. you just know he’s excited. he teaches bakugou things like how to hold a baby, basically hosting his own pregnancy classes at home which usually end in an explosion or two and “you can’t do that when the babu arrives bakubro!”

katsuki is usually in charge of health and taking you to appointments, a real meanie he is, never giving into your unhealthy cravings while he takes the brunt force of your hormones. he leaves little sticky notes when he can, reminding you to take your supplements and vitamins because ‘they’re important for the damn brat.’, bakugou can be aggressive but you know from experience ( and catching him with his hands on your bump ) that he’s just as excited as kirishima for your baby.

that excitement quickly turns to anger whenever someone insults you; whether it be for the size of your bump or paparazzi trying to get an emotional rouse out of you for the tabloids— kirishima and bakugou are already dealing with it. your blonde husband has to be held back by whoever’s around— palm sparking with the starters of what could be a fatal explosion— you can never tell with how pissed he can get. chewing into the stranger so bad, they have even bigger tears pricking in their eyes than you do at their comments. kirishima i feel like, would be more intimidating. he’s the nice guy; the friendly pro hero who always makes you feel at home. “you wanna apologise?” hed say to the purpotraitor, voice low and steady. eijirou is never the nice guy when it comes to people offending you, in fact bakugou looks tame in comparison as kirishima hardens protectively.

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kanene-yaaay · 3 years ago

Text

Sentence Starter - Part 2

I decided to gather all my Sentence Starters in a post. This is the second round!

I know I already said thankys before but, really, thank you so much for your support, it means the world for me. <3

[~.~]

[Gee these covers are lumpy, better fix the covers up!]

"Gee, these covers are lumpy, better fix the covers up!" Mina wormed her hands under the giggly boy, fishing a loud shriek as she vibrated her thumb between his shoulder blades and her other hand squeezed his sides, resulting in a more desperate wiggling from her victim. "Squish, squish, squish the squirmy Ojiro to fix all the lumps!"

"I AHAHAM NOT A COHOHOVER!"

"Hmmm, I don't know if I am convinced," her eyes glinted when the blond arched his back and her hands immediately dashed to scratch his incredibly, horribly ticklish lower back. "I mean, why else would I find such a cute squeaky toy, oops, I mean, cover in my bed?" Bubbly squeals painted Ojiro's laughter almost as strong as the red that painted his cheeks as he shook his head, protesting.

"I ahaham not s-squeheheaky!" Mina's nails scribbled and grazed on his ribs, the quick, high pitched sounds that flied from his lips contradicting his own words. "That doesn't prove anything!" The tailed teenager managed to breath out before descending in belly laughter again.

His pink friend matched his laughter in response, slowing her silly tickly attack as tears began to form on the other's eyes, pinching and poking his tummy in order to keep the adorable giggles filling the air. The cute wiggles from him and his tail were a bonus, as well.

"Hard day?"

Ojiro nodded, a smile still plastered on his face.

"It was. Your behed is fluffyhihihi. Sorry fohohor intrudihihing."

She waved his worries off, "it's no problem! Just give me a warn next time so I won't lay on you again, okay?"

Ojiro snickered, remembering the scared screams from they both when a few minutes ago Mina decided to jump on her bed and didn't even realize the strange lump that was Ojiro sleeping under all the comforters and plushies.

"I will."

"Good." The pink haired girl then cracked her fingers, a dangerous smirk spreading on her face, probably an effect of being Bakugou's friend, and making goosebumps ran freely on Ojiro's spine.

"No no nohoho!" He shot his hands up in an a placating gesture, excited giggles already falling from his mouth. "I already agreed with you! Please!"

Mina pouted in faux empathy. "Sorry, friendo, but your squeaky squeaks and wiggly wiggley wiggles are just too much cute for me to not tickle you again!"

"Ihihi don't," a snort cut his sentence, "I don't dohoho any of that!" He says, in between his wiggles and squeaks.

"Well," She attacked his armpits, a blinding smile taking over her features as the other began to giggle and snicker non stop. "I am sure we can compromise, eventually."

[~.~]

[I wouldn’t say that with the position you’re in, star student]

"I wouldn't say that with the position you're in, star student." Sero grinned, the non said threat falling heavily between them.

Todoroki blinked, stopping his struggles to lay limply on the floor, still staring the black haired friend on top of him, the fake dagger pressed on his neck.

"It doesn't make sense." Sero threw his hands up, exasperated. Shoto turned to look at Momo, who signalized at Jirou to stop the filmation. "If he's just got into my house in the middle of the night to kill me how does he know about my grades?"

"Well, maybe you just look like a super genius or something!" The other actor retorted, shoving his face on his hands and then on the floor as Todoroki stared at him with an unconvinced expression.

"Or," Kaminari jumped in, ignoring his friends dramatics "he can be his archenemy, building his hate and revenge plan since Todoroki did.... Something bad at him in the school."

Todoroki piked up at the opportunity to put another conspiracy in the movies' plot. "That could make sense."

"Don't encourage him." Jirou smirked at the protesting 'hey!' shouted by the other, preparing another snarky remark before being cut by Momo's voice.

"We're not making any more changes on the plot. We will just remake this scene and then everyone can go home, okay?"

"I think Izuku would lose it if we asked for him to rewrite another part." Nods and mumbles of agreement to Sero's words filled the room as all the occupants remembered the boy's determined rant of why the dagger's blade shouldn't be completely straight nor silver. "Anyway, I still need to buy that new Fatgum's game that came out. Let's move on."

"I can't," the dual haired actor claimed, a blank face "you're sitting on top of me."

And, for a moment, as the pun sank on his friends' brain, only silence met him.

Then Jirou and Kaminari immediately broke in loud laughter, Momo hiding her own chuckles behind her hand.

"Oh my god," Sero bit his own laughter in order to try to look at least a bit serious as he attempted to glare at Shoto. "You think you are so funny, don't you?"

Smugly, Todoroki let the corner of his lips twitch.

"Let me help you to show what is funny, then!"

"Wait-" but he was too late, before the words even came out from his mouth Sero was already dancing his fingers on his sides, switching between squeezing them quickly to scribbling and prodding at his ribs, yelps and guffaws already spinning in the air. "Dohohon't! Wait, wahahahait!!"

The black haired friend laughed with him, his blinding smile and uncontrollable giggles being too much adorable to resist. "I think you actually meant 'I am very sorry for ever complaining about your great performance, my amazing friend Sero.', right?"

Todoroki shook his head, gasping and squirming harder when Sero experimented clawed at his stomach, a series of quiet nononono's and pleaseplease's spilling freely from his lips.

"Tsk. Not even close, man. But don't worry, we have aaaaall the afternoon." A snort escaped from Todoroki and he hid his face on his hands, making Jirou 'aww' and Kaminari shout a 'wait wait make he do it again!' "So take your time, OK?" And then, in a quieter voice "If I go too much far just hold my wrists and I will stop."

A barely there nod showed that the other had heard him, however, as his hands continued to hid his face, bright laughter and shy giggles still filled the studio for much more time.

[~.~]

[Oh yeah! I told you’d they’d win! Ha! Pay up, Midoriya!]

"Oh yeah! I told you they'd win! Ha! Pay up, Midoriya!"

"B-but this is not fair! Tokoyami bought the victory by offering to do Shoji's dishes! That is not a-!

"There is nothing against this in the rules." Tokoyami shrugged, still panting from the sparring. "And I just remembered there is Midnight-sensei's paper for tomorrow that I didn't even start."

"Sorry, Midoriya. But we will have much more training in the future, still, and your analysis really helped me! You're right, maybe starting to use some weapon, since a hand to hand combat can give my quirk some damage, will be a good advantage." The taller teenager waved at them, Dark Shadow mirroring him enthusiastically as they followed Tokoyami back at the dorms. "I should search for options before choosing. Thank you for the cheering."

Kaminari waved back before turning to Izuku, his smile getting bigger as he saw his protesting pout. "Aww, is someone angy?" He hugged him from behind, snickering when he saw a glimpse of a smile on the other's expression before an exaggerated frown took over, green eyes deviating from his teasing grin.

"I know you want to smile. ~" Denki delivered a couple of pokes on his stomach, an evil idea full of wiggly fingers and giggly squeals blossoming on his mind. "Maybe the 1-A sunshine need some cheering up after being such sore loser? ~"

Midoriya turned on his embrace, now being face to face at him, determination burning on his features.

"Maybe I do!"

And then he blew a raspberry right on that spot where his neck and collarbone met. A loud, surprised squeak answered him and he was quick to dig on Kaminari's hips, being so careful and so mindful to give plenty of attention and tickles to every sensitive inch of flesh, don't forgetting to still deliver smaller raspberries at random spots on the blond's neck, successfully ending with all his coordination to get revenge.

"Whahahahat!! That is nOT-" A snort, more bubbly giggles. "That is not fahahhair!!!"

"But you're helping me to cheer up. See, I have no more pouts and no more frowns thanks to you!"

"Then stop!"

Kaminari tried to squirm his way out of the ticklish embrace, finding that maybe bringing Midoriya to his lap when he decided to tickle-hug him wasn't his best idea.

"I don't know. I think I am still a bit grumpy..." He stopped his attack in order to gently trace that spot right on the blond's right third rib, drawing circles around it and trying to not giggle together when Denki's bubbly snickers filled the air. "Maybe you amazing laughter can help me with that!"

[~.~]

[You know, this fluffy duster feels a lot like your tail...]

"You know, this fluffy duster feels a lot like your tail..." Izuku said, thoughtfully, a particular idea shining on his mind that may or may not was inspired by yesterday's Great Tickle Fight.

"Really?" Ojiro, (un)fortunately, didn't notice the danger hidden on the smaller's words, petting the duster and the fluff on his tail for a bit in comparison. "It really is. But it's not stronger like mine tail!" He made a show of flexing the aforementioned, both chickling at his silliness. "Oh, are you going to clean the curtains? I can help!"

A plan formed on Izuku's mind. He controlled his features to not show the playful grin that threatened to take over his face.

"Yes. Could you hold that part right there?" He pointed to a high spot on the fabric. "I can't research it."

"No problem!" The blond smiled and did as asked, not realizing the way Midoriya stepped closer nor how his shirt exposed a small patch on his stomach with his new position. "Like this?"

"Yes!" Izuku, then, shoved the fluffly, soft, tickly duster under his shirt, instigating a loud squeak to escape from the other.

"Midoriya!!"

But he didn't let go of the curtain, a smile spreading on his face.

"Yes?"

"Dohon't"

The green haired boy slightly moved the duster, quick enough to make the bristles of the feathers to barely tease the skin, but only that. Another yelp and a few giggles leading Ojiro to try to hide his red face on his shoulder.

"Don't what?" He beamed.

A small shook of head, a shy giggle. "Ihim not falling for thahat."

"Aw. But I am going to tickle you anyway!" Ojiro yelped, trying to curl on himself, however immediately regretting his decision as the movement shot light shocks across his torso, every feather following his squirms. "Yes! I am going to tickle, tickle, tickle you until all those cutes squeals and nice laughter trapped inside are free. As a future hero, it's my job to help them!"

"Dohohon't say that word." His words were in vain, especially because now Midoriya carried that determined look, thoughts racing on his mind as his hands continued to keep the duster on the same place.

"Maybe I should try to tickle his stomach first? I could start wiggling the duster there and then change to his sides and ribs or maybe I could start on his sides and ribs going up and down a few times and then tickle his stomach as I change from a side to another. The element of surprise is always a powerful tool so I should always change from going extremely soft and low to more quick attacks! I wonder if I can try it on his tail too? I could-"

"Ihihizuku, please!" The one being called snapped out of his rambling by a very flustered, giggly Ojiro, who still held the curtains as if his life depended on it. "J-juhust do it already, plehease."

And Izuku was happy to oblige.

[~.~]

[As nice as this is, we really should get up]

"As nice as this is, we really should get up." Tokoyami said softly, patting the green hair of the head which rested on his shoulder, - it was really as fluffy as it looked! - almost snorting when Midoriya squinted his eyes at the credit's playing on the screen. "Everyone else already went to their room."

Izuku looked around, as if he just realized all his friends decided to call it a night when President Mic - who has been called both due his good taste in movies and to keep an eye on them and their ability to cause chaos - woke up half of the class as he fell asleep in a bad position and started snoring, accidentally activating his quirk.

"It's not-" A yawn cut Izuku's words and pulled Tokoyami away from his thoughts. "It's not a movie night if we can't watch at least five movies."

"Oh no, the horrible punishments that the Universe will bought upon us after such terrible offense. What we shall do in the face of that helpless fate?"

Midoriya lightly shoved him away, a sleepy smile taking all the seriousness from his frown. "N't f'nny."

Tokoyami started to softly scribble his fingers on the other's neck, following him as he tiredly wiggled away, no real fight on his movements.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Tohohokoyami! Naha!"

"What? Wait... Is this the punishment from the Universe?" Maybe it was because it was so rare for his friend being this playful, or because the drops of faked seriousness painting his words, but Midoriya found himself giggling harder, a bubbly tittering escaping as the tickling traveled to behind his ears. "Giggling and wiggling until we inevitably give up and decide to watch movies until the end of our brief mortal existence, oh, the pain."

"You're so sihihihilly!"

"Me, the embodiment of darkness ‘silly’? Oh, Midoriya, what have they done to you?" His tune was bathed in faux pity.

"Plehehehease!" Tokoyami decided to travel to the smaller boy's sides, scratching and poking them lightly enough to keep the flow of airy laughter and rare squeaks as a reward for the sudden, quick pinches. "It tickles! It tickles so much!"

"The Universe is tickling you? Will the cruelness ever end? Ah, the struggles someone as ticklish, so, so ticklish as you must be going through... Do not give up, Midoriya!" He did his best to not huff in amusement as the aforementioned hugged him, hiding his face oh his chest and muffling his louder laughter due the teases. "Don't let its darkness to dim your light."

His fingertips grazed the back of his ribs, Izuku only giggled harder, "Okahahay, Okay! We- no, not there! - we can go slehehehep!"

Tokoyami stopped the light tickling, waiting for the moment green eyes locked on his before proceeding, a deadly serious gaze on his face.

"Don't." Izuku warned.

"But the Universe's punishment-"

"O-oh my GOD!"

[~.~]

[i did not say that!]

"I did not said that!" But the giggles were already spilling out.

"Yes!!" Izuku, the traitor, couldn't be any more happy, basically sparkling as the feathers of his wings fluffed up in amusement. "You did! You did! You did! I am totally going to do that, now!"

Kirishima was quick to retrieve a pillow and prepare it to a fight, pointing it at his guardian angel with a half groan, half giggle. "That is not fair, man!! You can't ask questions when I am about to sleep, I always say the first thing that pops in my mind!"

"It wasn't really my original intention," the angel smiled sheepishly. "Humans' need to sleep are still confusing to me... But!!" He crept closer, fingers wiggling. "That only means that when you said yesterday..."

"No."

"That you likes when I-"

"No!" Big smiles, small giggles. "Come on. Shut up!"

"-that you like when I tickle you-" The rest of the sentence was a squeak as the red haired boy jumped at him, his soft weapon firm on his hands, and both dashed across the room in a chase. "I knew it!" Izuku laughed, - laughed. Not shyly giggled or awkwardly grinned, - pleased that one of his theories about his protected human (and friend) was right.

Damn, Kirishima wanted to at least fake a pout and put on a real fight, but how could he when the magical being was acting so happily? When he was so full of joy?

That didn't stop him from tackling his friend on the floor, both rolling in a playful roughhousing and playing fair until Kirishima felt something incredibly, impossibly soft on his neck, wide eyes as he realized only now how Midoriya's wings were stretched around him, almost engulfing both beings on its length.

The soft feeling came back, now scribbling all over his neck, sending tickly shocks through his body and weaking his strength, something which allowed the other launch his arms around his waist, hugging Eijirou from behind and leaving him to freely stare at some free feathers that slowly swung on his direction, aiming for his tickle spots.

Izuku felt a bit worried when the human stopped squirming.

"If I last 30 seconds without laughing you will let me go to that Parkour classes on Monday."

"But they're dangerous," Eijirou interrupted him, "you can use your magic feathers."

He could almost feel the angel thinking, analysing his options.

"Forty-five seconds."

"I will get you back and ask Shinsou to help me."

Pout. "You're mean."

A feather wriggled on his bellybutton, cutting any snark answer that the human had to that.

More feathers appeared in front of him. Adrenaline ran on Kirishima's veins at the idea of his new challenge.

"Deal."

[...]

Sidenote: Shinsou is Kirishima's cat. He loves to randomly lay and nap on the angel, but for some reason his purring tickles Izuku. He likes to purr a lot. Izuku is almost sure the feline knows what he is doing. Kirishima think the whole situation is hilarious.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Jiang Cheng/Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng is writing to Nie Mingjue to ask for Nie Huaisang's hand. This is a thing that's happening. He is not sure, how this happened, but it's probably Nie Huaisangs fault.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure whose idea it was, but after three jars of Emperor’s Smile it sure seemed like it’d be funny. It was probably the same person that dared Nie Huaisang to wear a dress – where had he even gotten a dress? – and do his hair in what might be, speaking quite frankly, the ugliest version of a maiden hairstyle Jiang Cheng had ever seen.

Writing a letter asking for Nie Huaisang’s hand in marriage seemed liked it would be just as funny – and it was!

(Wei Wuxian wrote most of it. It was sappy and awful and about halfway through the compliments didn’t sound anything at all like they were talking about Nie Huaisang, but also that was when someone, Jiang Cheng doesn’t remember who and it might very well have been himself, opened yet another jar of Emperor’s Smile and they stopped worrying about little details like that.)

The rest of the night was distinctly fuzzy from that point onwards and that, presumably, was when disaster struck.

It might have been averted if they’d had the sense to realize it the next day, but they were all incredibly hung over. Wei Wuxian feebly suggested that they lie on the floor to try to see if the coolness of the floorboards would make them feel better – it didn’t, but it didn’t make them feel any worse, either, while trying to sit up definitely did – and they ended up lying there like starfish until wei hour, at which point they finally dragged themselves up long enough to eat some rice and try their best not to throw it back up.

Nie Huaisang was still wearing the dress.

It wasn’t as if it looked any good, though: his hair’d gotten loose and was hanging in his eyes, and between that and the circles under his bloodshot eyes, he looked very much like an especially bedraggled hanged ghost of some murderess.

Jiang Cheng empathized deeply.

That did not, however, mean that he wanted to marry him – sure, Nie Huaisang had fit in with him and Wei Wuxian as if he’d been raised alongside them, and yes, he seemed to legitimately like Jiang Cheng just as much as he liked Wei Wuxian (if not more, if that was even conceivably possible) and, of course, it was extremely nice being the competent one for once, but Jiang Cheng was pretty sure there was more to marriage than being extremely comfortable with having someone around.

(Look at his parents, after all.)

In short, when they got back to their room and Nie Huaisang had absent-mindedly asked where the letter was and they couldn’t find it – disaster.

One of the Lan sect disciples cheerfully saying that they’d seen the state they were all in and mailed it out on their behalf so they wouldn’t need to trouble themselves, and given the promptness of the Lan post it was almost certainly too far away for them to catch up to retrieve it – even bigger disaster.

“My parents are going to kill me,” Jiang Cheng said.

“My brother is going to kill me,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Your brother is going to kill me!”

“Guess we’ll just have to start planning the wedding,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “Or maybe the funeral. Funerals? No, you’re would-be spouses, you’d be buried in the same coffin, so we can save on cost and just have one –”

“Is there a Jiang Cheng attending your uncle’s lectures?” Nie Mingjue asked Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen gave him a strange look. “Of course. You know him – Sect Leader Jiang’s son.”

“No, I’m pretty sure there has to be another one,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “Potentially a much stupider one.”

“…what did he do?”

Nie Mingjue handed over the letter he’d received earlier.

“Oh no,” Lan Xichen said, voice strangled. “Oh – oh this is bad. This is terrible.”

“A true tragedy,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

“Half of this is blatantly not even talking about Huaisang.”

“It is not.”

“I mean – it compliments his excellent swordsmanship. Even putting aside the lines about his elegance and grace – no offense meant, Mingjue-xiong –”

“None taken. I’ve met my brother.”

“Even putting that aside, Huaisang practices the saber!”

“Not often.”

“Well – no. But really, these comparisons are ridiculous. A white crane, a gentle cloud, a sparkling statute carved out of ice with an unmoving…face…”

Lan Xichen trailed off.

Nie Mingjue smirked. “Finally realized that it’s talking about your brother?”

“…you know, it suddenly occurred to me that my uncle will need assistance reviewing his students’ essays,” Lan Xichen said.

“The ones that have both samples of handwriting and names attached?”

“The very same. Do you mind if I leave early?”

“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said. He was grinning by this point. “When you get there, give this to Huaisang.”

Lan Xichen looked down at the small sachet with a frown. “Needles? Why are you sending him embroidery needles?”

“For his wedding clothes, of course,” Nie Mingjue said. “I hear every good bride is supposed to make her own – am I to let my Nie sect be disgraced because my brother can’t be bothered?”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #sangcheng #wangxian #wei wuxian #nie mingjue #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #wolveshowlatnight

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archer12xx · 3 years ago

Text

xyx x mc

--i don't really know what this is. it's just some thoughts that I can't shake. Had to write it.

--3rd person POV

--apologies for the typos and grammatical errors (English isn't my native language T_T)

--xyx's route and last phone call (good end)

--there are some spoilers in here so read at your own risk... 😬

For the longest time, you thought what you feel is what you're supposed to be feeling. Not to feel anything... You thought it was normal. You thought it was your heart's default. You tried to change it by seeking thrill but to no avail. It only made it worse, if not any better. Then you met them. Without your knowledge, your heart started changing. You hid it behind the teasing and the jokes, but you know-- at the back of your head-- that this is going to a place where you're afraid to go. No expectations, you said, but the truth is you just didn't want to expect anything from this encounter... from them, especially. Their voice, their laugh, their sincerity stirred something inside of you that you didn't even know was there. It's not like it never existed but it was just dormant, and when they came along it has awakened. This... scared the shit out of you. You hid it well, your feelings, or so you thought. It's just that they were much better in seeing through you than you were in sealing it. You thought just because you're the life of the party and you made making people happy your life's purpose, you're not allowed to be sad but they proved you wrong. You are allowed to feel whatever the hell you feel. Be happy, be sad, be caring (to Cat heh), be scared, and most importantly be in love. They'll be there every step of the way. If they need to share a part of any negative emotions you have, know that they will. You don't have to pretend to be strong all the time because your vulnerability is also a part of you. And they love each and every part of you, all of you, believe it or not. While you shine the most when you're happy and sparkle the most when you're feeling good, they are more than willing to welcome the darkness in you for as long as you don't push them away, or worse... leave them. You already stretched out your hand, didn't you know? And they already took it. So, don't ever let go. They won't let go either if you won't, that's a deal. They just love you so damn much to leave you on your own so deal with it, you're stuck with them.

But hey... you might not know this but... they, too, are scared shitless. The only experience they have in love is with that shitty ex they had. This... this is new to them, too. What if they don't actually know how to love? Because they don't have any reference materials, related cases, to use as a comparison. What if, along the way, they ended up not being able to understand their feelings and end up hurting you? They somehow overthought the whole thing and freaked out a little. But they made it look like it's nothing, right? Like it'll be easy for them. Wanna know why? They won't tell you this because they know you'll be too cocky, tease them, and they'll never hear the end of it. But it was because of you. Their feelings for you is much much bigger than their fear of the unknown. And not taking the risk will be much worse than getting hurt in the process. How different was it from skydiving? They tried that before (if not, they wanted to) so what's the difference? It's both (jumping and) falling, but instead of the ground, it's you who will be waiting to catch them. You'll catch them right? Heh. And the moment they heard and found out how you felt, all they could ever think about is being with you and the frightening idea of falling in love seemed to be inexistent. Popped like a bubble in the air. That's how big of an impact you made into their life. Your glorious face, brilliant eyes, luscious lips, and intoxicating presence, all of it, all of you just... Funny, you call Cat a thieving freeloader when you, yourself, stole their heart and dwell in their mind rent-free. Just what will they do about you? You didn't even have to try, their heart just goes crazy by the sight of you in their screen. They got it bad, for sure. Luckily, you do, too! Now all you both have to do is ride that bike of yours into the sunset. The road is for you both, pave it with your love, won't you?

#blooming panic xyx #blooming panic #blooming panini #bloomic #bloonini #blooming panic fanfic #bloomfic????

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onceupona-chaos · 4 years ago

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Shackles and bridges: SJM and the mating bond

I know there are a lot of posts about this, but I wanted to do one myself, so here we go.

DISCLAIMER: This is my interpretation as someone who is a very new member of this fandom and has more contact with “common readers”, since I was one myself until a couple of months ago. Everything here is based on textual evidence and my experience as an avid reader, so take a step back from any ship. But I will talk about the probability of a rejected mating bond, so if that's not your cup of tea, be warned. English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes.

Be kind!

Also, minor spoiler for CC.

The mating bond is the most important element in SJM’s books and it's present in most of the main endgame couples. Aelin and Rowan, Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian, for example.

It’s described as this precious, sacred bridge between souls - or is it?

SJM is a very formulaic writer. We can draw several parallels with her writing, due to the way she structures her scenes and chooses her words.

We saw this explicitly with Nesta and Cassian in the Solstice scene, which is very similar to the one between Feyre and Rhysand: an emotional discussion, kissing tears away, lovemaking with “say it” and “you’re mine”, mating bond glowing between them, on and on.

Different characters, but same scenario, same process, same wording, almost the same scene.

However, considering that every mated couple until now ends up together HEA, I have the feeling that SJM is starting to explore the mating bond in different ways, otherwise every one of her books would be too… similar? In a way that the reader wouldn’t be surprised anymore, it would be the same story over and over.

To the ones who are faithful to those characters and to her books (her fans), this isn’t exactly a problem, but we have to consider the other readers as well, the bigger audience (SJM sold millions of copies, so not everyone who reads her books is engaged online).

For that exact reason, to approach a narrative element in a different way is very common among writers.

I’ll give you an example with Cassandra Clare and the parabatai bond (SPOILERS from TDA): the parabatai bond is an oath between friends who swear to protect each other. In TMI and TID, we have this bond between friends (Jace and Alec/ Will and Jem) that are almost brothers. However, in TDA, we have two parabatai (Julian and Emma) falling in love with each other, which is extremely forbidden.

The different ways a writer can approach the same elements are important to keep the readers engaged - not the reader who is a fan, but especially the occasional reader. Otherwise, it would be the “if you’ve read one, you’ve read them all” kind of thing, which is no bueno.

With that in mind, I really think SJM is starting to explore/ approach different sides of the mating bond.

Mate—not husband. The Fae had mates: an unbreakable bond, deeper than marriage, that lasted beyond death. (Heir of Fire/ ToG)

“But if they’re blessed, they’ll find their mate—their equal, their match in every way. High Fae wed without the mating bond, but if you find your mate, the bond is so deep that marriage is … insignificant in comparison.”

Another proof that SJM is formulaic: in both ToG and ACOTAR, the bond is presented for the first time in comparison to marriage, as something deeper and sacred.

However, Bryce, main character of CC (SJM book published before ACOSF), looks at it very differently:

“And at least he’s not some psychotic alphahole who will demand a three- day sex marathon and then call me his mate, lock me in his house, and never let me out again.” Which was why Reid—human, okay-at-sex Reid—was perfect.

This is such a contrast. To Bryce, the mating bond would take her freedom away (keep that in mind).

I’m not saying Bryce won’t have a mate or anything like that, but we don’t start reading CC with the same vision about the mating bond presented in the other books: a sacred bond, deeper than marriage. Bryce couldn’t care less about that, not once she wondered if Hunt is her mate.

Therefore, I don’t think SJM finally writing a different story about the mating bond so unthinkable. On the contrary, we see writers doing that all the time.

Also, I’m not saying Elain will reject it, but SJM is not only approaching the mating bond in different ways now, but she already structured a very solid base for a mating bond rejection to happen if she wants to:

ACOWAR

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“A mating bond can be rejected”.

SJM already wrote a whole scene to explain the mating bond and how, for some people, is not this sacred thing and it can be rejected. Not only that, she directly approached that Elain could reject it if she wanted to, and that scene involved Lucien and Azriel.

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?”

“It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”

“You belong to him.”

“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.“

Also in ACOWAR, Elain makes herself very clear: she would have ignored/ rejected the mating bond right there if Graysen still wanted a future with her, because she loved him. She would have chosen to follow her heart without hesitation.

The funny thing is that Azriel - Elain's current love interest - never saw that scene, never saw how Elain vigorously rejected Lucien for someone she loved or the way Graysen rejected her (I’ll leave this information to you).

ACOFAS

Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them.

“And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

“No.” I blinked.

Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

Months go by and Elain is still uncomfortable with the bond.

ACOSF

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien.

Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

At this point, it’s clear: the question "what if the Cauldron was wrong?" didn’t come out of nowhere, not only for Azriel, but in the narrative as well.

SJM had been slowly hinted at for three books now. I know she can change her mind, but if she wants to write about it, she made sure to write the perfect opportunity:

SJM already wrote a scene about the possibility of Elain rejecting the bond, that involved Elain, Lucien and Azriel, so it’s not coming from nowhere;

Lucien compared how different Elain is from the female who he had really loved;

They are both uncomfortable around each other;

Elain is romantically interested in someone else, who was part of that scene back in ACOWAR when we were presented to the possibility;

This someone else (Azriel) is interested in her;

SJM made sure to tie the romantic plot (Elain’s mating bond) with a political plot (Blood Duel);

The political plot is connected to the overarching plot (Autumn Court, Beron and Eris/ Koschei);

Mostly important: Elain is showing for three books that she doesn't want the bond;

"I don't want a mate. I don't want a male."

She literally said that with all the letters.

We can see this dichotomy between shackles (no freedom) x bridge (a connection) regarding Lucien as well.

"(Jesminda) She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him."

He said that Elain had been thrown at him and also that they were shackled.

“Give her time to accept it.”

“To accept a life shackled to me?” (ACOFAS)

And then right in the next book (ACOSF) we have this:

“Well, I didn’t have a choice in being shackled to you, either.”

The declaration slammed into her. Shackled.(…)

Shackled.

Words beckoned, sharp as knives, begging for her to grab one and plunge it into his chest. Make him hurt as much as that one word hurt her.

SJM emphasized what that one word meant by repeating it and using italics. It’s another side of a mating bond: not a bridge of connection, but shackles with no freedom, no choice.

If Nesta was that hurt when Cassian (someone she loves) said that he didn’t get a choice in being "shackled” to her, can you imagine how is it for Elain and to actually have this bond with someone she don't love? And to Lucien as well?

The thing is in terms of storytelling, and by that I mean the plot, it’s undeniable that we already have everything that’s necessary to approach the matter of the mating bond in a way the reader has never seen before.

It’s a huge possibility, one that would make the regular readers interested (we have to remember that, not everyone who reads those books is engaged. They read them when it’s appealing).

If you want to look deeper, we can see little clues that point to that narrative path, too:

Elain shall wed for love and beauty.

The bond Elain had chosen.

Elain cut in sharply, “I am not a child to be fought over.”

Now, why hasn't Elain rejected the bond?

Because a writer doesn’t waist a good plot like that. Simple as that.

Let me tell you: SJM won’t waist that plot because a part of the fandom doesn’t like Elain, because 1) the online fandom itself is just a part of the readers; 2) inside the online fandom there are people who dislike Elain, who are neutral about her and people who like her; 3) SJM already know some people hate Elain, otherwise she wouldn’t have wrote this:

You think Elain is boring?

I think she’s kind, I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t seen all she has to offer yet.

SJM already told us she likes to write about disliked characters. She will write the story she wants to write and ACOSF is the major proof of that. If it’s a rejection or not, only she knows, everything could happen.

But SJM has been writing about mating bonds for years, do you really think the first time we get to see a rejection it would be for someone else’s POV? Or in a minor plot as if it isn’t a big deal? Especially when this rejection is directly related to a political plot and to the overarching plot?

No, not when SJM has enough material to write 700 pages and more, not when she has the opportunity to make a whole book out of this, one that is something entirely new for the reader, not when SJM built the perfect opportunity herself.

#pro elain #mating bond #pro elain archeron #acotar 5

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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The Birds And The Bees ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

GENRE: Non Idol Au, Family Au, fluffy,

PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay for you! I know we spoke about putting the two of your requests together so I hope I did this some justice for you sweetie!

Jae shook his head at his best friend as they walked up the long paved driveway to their house. Jae and his twin sister had been out all day at their friend's house, having lunch together while their parents were out. They were supposed to go straight home to bed but the twins decided to have a sleepover instead, inviting their best friends Kayla and Derek over.

"I told you, my parents aren't even home," Jae laughed as he looked to his twin sister who was telling her best friend the same thing. Their friends were worrying that their parents would find out and get them all in trouble. The twins weren't normally the ones to have a small get together when their parents weren't home but with you and Yoongi gone they had free roam of the huge house you all lived in. They figured it would be no harm in having a small sleepover, they normally have them under your supervision anyway so it didn't seem like a big deal.

"Where are they anyway?" Kayla asked as she threw her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. Ara rolled her eyes as she thought back and on what you and Yoongi had told her that morning.

"A romantic getaway, they haven't been spending enough time together." Jae couldn't help but fake a gag as his sister told them where they were and at the thought of his parents still being romantic together. You were always all over one another as if you were still two young teenagers in love, which is cute for the both of you but embarrassing and cringeworthy for both of your kids.

"You want to be careful you don't get another younger brother or sister," Derek joked as he shook his head at the thought. The twins stopped walking when they reached the front porch of their house and stared at their friends who were both laughing uncontrollably.

"What? What's so funny?" Ara questioned, raising her eyebrow as she looked at her best friend who was starting to turn red in the face from laughing so hard. Kayla covered her mouth to try and silence her giggles but it was hard when Ara seemed so innocent in comparison to everyone else in their academic year.

"Do you have any idea where babies come from?" Kayla questioned this time, looking between them both as they thought it over. The twins were 13, almost 14, of course, they knew where babies come from. They'd spoken to their parents about it plenty of times but never the full birds and the bee's talk.

"Our mum? When they spend a lot of time together...Then mum-" Jae stopped him from continuing on when he saw their friends laughing even harder at them, he could sense that what he thought happened was wrong. There was a pit growing in his stomach as he felt embarrassed in front of them Kayla could see how it was upsetting them so she stopped laughing.

"You guys should really ask about that sometime," Kayla told them as they all walked into the house, taking off their shoes and coats as they stared around the place in Awe. It didn't matter how many times they came here they would still be in shock as they saw how different it was from normal homes. It helped that Yoongi, the twins' father and your husband, worked as a huge music producer. He wasn't famous but he worked alongside a lot of famous influences which paid well. Then there was you, the twins' mother, you worked as a bridal fashion designer which meant you got to work from home most of the time and get paid to draw, model and design gowns for people.

The house wasn't huge but it was bigger than most family homes, the small porch area they were now standing in had high ceilings with a fake crystal chandelier hanging down above them. The whole of the house was painted white and had marble counters in the kitchens and bathrooms. All the floor lined with different coloured flooring panels, Ara always made the same joke that it looked as though her mum had created the place in a Sims game and their father paid to have it recreated.

"Do you want another sibling?" Derek asked as they began to walk through to the living room, the lights were dimmed lower which made Ara frown as she searched around for the dimmer switch. As soon as the lights turned onto the full mode a scream came from the sofa and Yoongi rushed to cover you. The two of you weren't indecent but you were making out on the sofa,

"MUM!" Ara screamed covering her eyes as she turned around to face away from the scene before her,

"DAD!" Jae yelled out following his sisters' actions, their friends both laughing as they turned around and covered their eyes.

"We're clothed kids, I just wasn't expecting you here," You told them disapprovingly as you moved away from Yoongi and looked at your daughter, she was avoiding all means of eye contact with you. That meant she knew she wasn't supposed to have friends over and was trying to avoid getting into trouble with you.

"You were supposed to come home-" You checked the time realising that both you and Yoongi should have called them before now but you'd both been so lost in one another to have noticed.

"Hours ago, I thought we said no sleepovers," Yoongi said as he was doing his best to stay mad at them but he knew that he did the same thing at their age so he couldn't be mad forever. Neither could you since you knew what it was like to be their age and have the house all to yourself,

"You were supposed to be on your 'romantic getaway'," Your daughter grumbled as they all walked further into the living room and sat down on each of their seats in the living room. They already knew they were in trouble but if they could keep their friends there for long enough you and Yoongi would cool down. You'd never shout or tell them off in front of company. Kayla sat down beside Ara on one of the two-seater sofa's and Ara was still turning a bright red at the thought of their friend's seeing all of this. Her parents acting as though they were kids,

"The hotel cancelled on us last minute. Double booked us," Yoongi mumbled as he looked at Jae who was sitting with Derek on the beanbags in the corner of the room. Derek was turning away whenever they meet their eyes, feeling slightly shy in front of you both now.

"Mr and Mrs Min..." Kayla said slowly as she looked at the both of you, ignoring the look she was getting from Ara. Ara knew what was going to get asked and she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Yes, darling?" You questioned, raising your eyebrow as she stared at you trying to gather the nerve to question you.

"How did you and Mr Min meet? We've always wondered but the twins won't tell us," It was the talk of the school, or rather their school year on how the two richest parents meet and what their story was.

"Well...We met in college, I hated him actually. He was so stuck up and cocky." You giggled at the thought of it and Yoongi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, drawing your body closer to him as he kissed your cheek.

It wasn't a huge deal now as it seemed back then, The twins' groaned at the sudden display of affection coming from you both, they hated whenever you would get like this around them. Poor Jae still believed that girls had cooties and that if he kissed one his teeth would fall out, they were so young and innocent that it made it hard for both you and Yoongi to tell them the truth.

"He was a player in college, never went out with the same person twice...Then one day he asked me out, I told him no and I guess-"

"The chase was fun," Yoongi cut you off as he looked at you. Love filled in his eyes as he looked at you, the same love he felt for you back then still there in his heart. There wasn't a day that went by when he didn't think about how much he adored every part of you, he would go through it all over again. Every second of college if it meant he could start your story all over again, back to that moment his eyes first landed on you. The first time his heart skipped a beat which it still did to this day.

"You had the twins right after getting married...Was there a reason you wanted them so early?" Derek asked this time, he seemed to be just as engrossed in this story as much as Kayla was which made Jae and Ara groan. They'd heard all of the stories so many times that they could recite them if they felt the need to but they didn't want to. The thought of their parents still acting as though they were young and in love was enough of a cringe experience for them.

"Well we discussed having a large family, we had to start early." You laughed softly as Yoongi lifted your hand to his lips and gave you a small gentle kiss,

"Do you want more?" The room fell into a deadly silence, all five pairs of eyes were on you as you thought about it.

"We do want more," You answered softly, looking at the twins' who had discussed the thought of having siblings but they'd never given it a real thought before.

"In the future maybe, depending on the twins and how they feel about it all," Yoongi answered as he rose to his feet.

"I'll drive you both home, you two go and do your homework," Yoongi told the twins as they nodded at him, walking their friends out of the house to say goodbye.

Later that night the twins were getting ready for bed while you and Yoongi cleaned up after the late dinner you'd had together,

"Mum?" You glanced over your shoulder at Jae who was looking at you shyly,

"We have questions." You stared from him to Yoongi as you could already sense where the conversation was going. You'd walked past the study when you heard the twins debating on who was going to ask where babies really came from,

"Sure, s-sit down." You stuttered out hoping that Yoongi would take over the conversation since he was supposed to have the talk with Jae while you were supposed to have the dreaded talk with Ara who was now walking into the room in her PJ's. Sitting beside her brother and waiting for him to pluck up the courage and question you both on it,

"What's on your-"

"Where do babies come from?!" It came out as a yell from Jae who was now sinking into his seat as you both looked at him and then to one another. Debating if you were ready to ruin their childhood and tell them the truth.

"They're going to find out soon, school teachers them a lot..." You whispered slowly as you held back the tears, the thought of your kids growing up so fast was bothering you. Taking in a deep breath you turned to look at your husband, his ears were burning a bright red and he nodded at you.

The twins had different reactions, your son was staring at his father with a disgusted look on his face, his mouth hanging open at the thought of it all. Your daughter was staring at the table as she tried to erase the image from her mind, neither of you had gone into detail about it because they were your kids and it would be wrong but you told them the basics of how babies were made.

"I think I'm going to need therapy." Your daughter whined as she shook her head as if it was somehow going to get the image of her parents together out of her head.

"I second that," Jae mumbled as he stared at his father who was finding the whole thing quite funny,

"Well there was no other way and it was a lot of fun doing it," Even you groaned at the crude way he was speaking in front of your kids, you playfully smacked his arm and got up from the table. Going to make a cup of hot chocolate for each of you as you got ready for bed that night. The twins grumbled as they got up from the chairs and agreed to one another that they would never look at you and Yoongi the same way again for as long as they would leave.

"So do you want siblings?" Yoongi chuckled as both of the twins rushed off to their rooms, ignoring Yoongi as he kept yelling the question out to them.

"They're no longer our babies," You whined out as you wrapped your arms around the back of Yoongi's neck and brought him down into a kiss, whining as he tried to pull away from you.

"We can make new babies," He smirked, reaching around and grabbing your ass but you slapped his chest with the teatowel.

"When we get a hotel room, I don't want to while the kids are home." You laughed softly, laying your head on Yoongi's chest as you both stood in silence together, swaying to no music but just enjoying being together with one another.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @justfanonfan

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