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scyphosunny · 2 months ago

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finally ( and not in time ) , vargastober day 2 !! let's talk about it !!!!!

holy shit . where do i even start

okay . sso . my sister does this thing where she books rooms in random pretty hotels just for me and my family to spend time there ? idk not like we travel a lot . so yknow just to enjoy the hotel experience for once . she's done this three times now , and i realized that i don't like it because they get me all stressed and because i don't like being in the same room with the rest of my family for more than four hours lolz

what about this . she booked the room on tuesday , of course . october first . so i had to make the first piece on monday instead ! that's why i did post that one on time XP

we had to go back on wednesday , and doing so always gets me all grumpy and depressed for some reason . I DON'T WANT TO GO TO ANY MORE HOTELS PLEASE I HAVE EVERYTHING I WANT AND NEED AT HOME . so i get home from the hotel , carrying a million things because my mom asked me to and well . god . i'm just stressed , lonely , depressed and overall unmotivated for a reason . HAPPENS EVERY . TIME . I SWEAR . CAN I GET A MOMENT OF PEACE

then my aunt comes by to leave some stuff for my mom . i look like a mess i was literally asleep five seconds ago . she gives me the talk again ( the talk is " oohhh you can't just not do anything you need to do something with your life i'm currently taking a break from school cause of my mental health so yeah the same thing , over and over again . I KNOW I'M USELESS AND WORTHLESS AND WILL DIE BUT CAN YOU LET ME ENJOY THIS PLEASE I REALLY DON'T WANT TO KILL MYSELF ) CAN I JUST DRAW MY MENTALLY ILL MEN PLEASE I HAVE A VARGASTOBER PIECE I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF

she leaves . still not feeling any motivation at all time to watch code lyoko with my sister ! we finished the series a week ago , so now we're watching code lyoko evolution . like many fans , i have opinions . about evo . but i'm also content starved ( and william starved ) so i decided to watch a part of it anyway . so now i'm also watching it with my sister ! if i don't finish it on my own , we'll probably finish it together . . .

then , hanging out with friends ! we're watching dungeon meshi together . i really enjoy the anime , to be honest ! lol every time we finished watching it i would just forget about it for a whole week or until we watched it again . but . . . .. this time . . . ... . i need MORE

into the actual drawing . . . okay this one was hard , which is funny since it's a relatively easy prompt . what about just some fluff . everyone loves fluff . but i was also thinking . . . i wasn't sure if i wanted to make real comfort or FAKE COMFORT !!!!!! i like thinking about these escenarios . edgar being tired sad and vulnerable , he needs someone SO BAD and scri gives him that fake comfort to take advantage of him in some way . something like chapter 18 . i still think about that one so much .

a year ago i made this piece for a video and YES THIS IS WHAT I MEAN , THAT LIFELESS LOOK ON EDGAR AND SCRI JUST GOING TO TRY AND FIX EDGAR IN HIS OWN TWISTED WAY . they're so deliciously painful .

at the end , you don't really need to take the prompts literally ! but still . i decided to go with real comfort this time . or . well . with a little plot twist .

have you read " and you , you can't live like this " ? i also think about this one so much . that last part , where the two of them are just . so absolutely in love with each other . edgar can't understand the warmth he feels when he sees scriabin and decides not to think about it . i mean , i know they're in love with each other already , but GOD this . this is DIFFERENT for SOME REASON .

( nodding silently

okay , what about this . . . i wanted to draw a little scene , maybe just edgar waking up , the realizing scri is like CLINGING ONTO HIM STILL ASLEEP and he just gets these jolts of warmth he described already . IT IS COMFORTING . HE JUST ISN'T AWARE OF IT . i had this incredibly specific reference i wanted to work with . . . i was just a bit worried because i never drew anything in that angle before . and man , as much as i draw there's still LOTS of things i'm still not able to draw ! like certain face angles , poses without a reference . . . i'm getting at least a bit better at the poses maybe but IT'S MOSTLY FACES . i just can't get certain angles to look right ugh

this is the reference i wanted to use ! i found it on pinterest , and the author wasn't credited . . . searched a bit more and someone said it was this person called " black1cherry1 " on twitter . i don't even know if that's the actual artist , but if it is , credits to them . . ?

okay well . i tried ! and failed . i couldn't get the angle to look right . FRUSTRATING

so i changed ideas ! found another reference

( made by the same artist , i think !

a little bit less meaning to it . . . maybe scriabin doing that thing he did on chapter 29 i think ? of feeling edgar's heartbeat while sleeping . uh-huh . great excuse to cuddle , scri .

tried again ! AND FAILED !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

tried harder EVEN . last reference i used i literally just put it on the canvas , scribbled on it a little , got a small sketch and then ditched it . way to go sunny .

so at this point i was like . well . random fluff , then

russlan made a chapter 20/21 piece ! and you know wwhat i think about chapters 20/21 . ( looking at you

got a random reference . . . funny how the drawing just started losing more and more meaning to it as i got new references . I'M SO LAME AND I'M SORRY I'LL TRY TO BE BETTER

didn't even try to work with this one ! wasn't feeling like it . . . so just to make myself feel more productive , i opened a blank canvas and started putting a bunch of ideas together for the rest of the prompts . while doing so , i found a drawing that just went SO INCREDIBLY HARD and i was thinking . should i . should i . should i . sssshhhould i

the piece was a drawing of someone hugging like . a robot . with a bunch of wires connected to it . AND HERE'S WWHERE I GET THE FEEL OF MAKING SOMETHING MORE OBSCURE

imagine , like . . edgar hugging that weird skeleton he found at the start of chapter 28 ( that scene still haunts me at night ) . hugging him because that thing IS scriabin , he needs scriabin and would and DID EVERYTHING HE COULD TO STAY WITH HIM EVEN AFTER KNOWING THE TRUTH AND AFTER ALL THEY WENT THROUGH doesn't it sound yummy and tragic

but then i just had to draw the skeleton and figure out what the fuck he looked like ( i re-read that one part and got chills just thinking about it ) . i'm sure someone already make a drawing of it before but i couldn't find it . so nnope i gave up right after starting . POINTLESS FLUFF IT'LL BE .

so yeah , i still kept on getting ideas together and stuff . I WAS GENUINELY SO EXCITED BY IT , GOT SOME GREAT REFERENCES AND I CAN'T WAIT TO USE THEM ( half of them are horror themed . people on twt are like " oh i love your art , it's so soothing " and i'm like . . . . .. rn ( annd once it was past three am i was like okay whatever i should go to sleep early so i can wake up before fucking 1PM and work on both pieces today ( yes , 3AM wwould be early for me ) so i close csp , get that random window of like , " there's some unsaved canvases do you want to save them " and i was like nuh-uh not like i drew anything , really aside from the fucking list of ideas

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ( i lost everything

what makes me a bit less worried is that i saved the references on pinterest to credit the original artists if i did use them ! so maybe i can just go ahead and do the whole thing again but god . i wasted SO MUCH TIME FOR NOTHING . i was frustrated so i just went to sleep .

( quick thing , i always like to send a good night tweet so hawker sees it and says good night to me . i wwas way too sleepy to write one yesterday .

THURSDAY . woke up at ten , got breakfast , played a bit of geometry dash , TIME TO WORK

just did some research . . . found the pic i used as a reference and it's apparently made by mamefuk on twt ! i searched on their profile and i found the post .

i was just having fun and taking my time with scri's face . sometimes the things i draw look bad because i rush them too much . NEVER A GOOD THING

pretty clothes once again . . . i wanted to put a pretty overall on him but i just couldn't get it to look right :/// which is a shame because it'd look super cute on him .

i used the brush i worked with on the last piece i made , and i kinda regret it because my art is already hard to see ? and once it's colored it kinda just made it worse . . .

TOOK ONE OF YAELOKRE'S DRAWING AS A REFERENCE , the patches on the pants just looked way too cute . ( i wish i could wear clothes like that irl . . . which is kinda funny because my style rn is actually pretty dark

( lolol kinda looks like scri is patting keath's head

guys , i won't lie to yyou . just drawing the line took so incredibly long . i'm really the world's slowest artist .

i got them all nice and pretty by 5:30 . i always struggle choosing clothes for them i want to make them look pretty .

I DID ADD THE YARN ON HIS HAIR THIS TIME

made my colors even MORE saturated because i wanted to give that vibe , sort of . i did have to make them a little less saturated because it looked kinda odd . . . there's something so funny about me STILL listening to the subdigitals three hours later . THEIR SONGS ARE JUST SO GOOD , I SWEAR . I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THEM MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY .

i swear to god i'd do a whole section here talking about every song they have but it would be like an ad lol

also drew them with socks because i RRRREFUSE to draw feet . no thank you

well , 7PM . you know what that means ? CODE LYOKO TIME

today they aired sabotage , and i'm honestly kind of surprised they aired that one in the first place ? i mean , this scene where yumi gets trapped by vines and . well the scene is kinda weird . but well the only chapter they've skipped so far is cold war . then , we just watched two more episodes of evo . we made jokes and it was fun ! sister finally got to know laura . that fucker .

well , then just GOT BACK TO THE THING rendering rendering rendering

scriabin's shirt was a different color ! idk it just didn't look right . well it kinda does nnnow but

10PM . . . unreal to know that i started working on this at 1 . HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO SPEND 10 HOURS ( with small breaks ) ON SOMETHING

i was getting super distracted too , out of nowhere i just started doing a bunch of these stupid videos

( don't even ask the context of that drawing please

11 , ALMOST 12AM . FINISHED IT . JUST WANTED TO CHANGE THE BG'S COLOR because i didn't want them to be in my usual purple void . maybe a brown void would suit him better .

oh , i was watching an undertale theory video !! something about the true lab and who really wrote the entries we read . it was SUPER INTERESTING and like two hours long . before that , i was watching youtuber drama videos and listening to the subdigitals lol

did the scribbly thing on edgar's pants and well it's fine i think

i want these to look more polished so i'm not rendering hair the way i used to . . . maybe i should go back to the old way

and we have our finished piece ! late , but it's there and finished !

with and without the filter i added . nothing too noticeable . . . just a small amount of blur and something to make the colors a tiny bit more saturated .

look ! a comparison of every pretty drawing i've made of them .

i feel like the only things that changed is the colors and the fact that now i do draw their noses properly

overall . this one was impossible to work with . i still need to make the piece for void but instead i spent an hour and a half rambling

i am also kinda sleepy . . . ugh . it might go away if i draw something i like .

ALSO someone pqrted my post 12 times interesting

this entry wasn't really interesting . . . i'm sleepy . bye

edit : i fell asleep on my desk for a second . yeah i'll try to get yesterday's piece when I wake up

#vargas #vargastober #art #i'm too sleepy to check for errors sorry

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softxsuki · 1 year ago

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Hi! Can I have a matchup for Tokyo Revengers please?

Pronouns: she/they

Preferably matching with male, as a romantic relationship.

MBTI : INFJ

Zodiac signs: Scorpio sun, Sag moon, Pisces rising

What I value in relationship : honesty, gentle, peace, loyalty, security, respect, and a little bit of exploration

My type is probably someone who is so kind to handle, or someone who just don’t talk much but decide to do things instead. Kinda like the vice captain thingy if you know what I mean…😅

For my personality, I tend to be so quiet (and maybe intimidating) at first but tbh I’m just shy. The more ppl know me, they’ll see that I am responsible, serious, hardworking, but also chill and laidback at the same time (But don’t ask me to be very honest cause I’ll do it with no filter and some ppl might hate me for that) and if I was super mad (like the final straw) I will cut off that person without any warning.

Hobbies : singing, reading, writing, drawing and listening to music!

I am the youngest daughter but smh being the one who is more responsible amongst my siblings. And fyi I’m scared of someone yelling at me (especially from men… tragically)

And lastly, for the scenario. I want to see how that someone you’ll get for me will do if I came home late due to weather and traffic jams

Thank you so much!

1000 Follower Event Matchup #26

This event is now CLOSED. You can find the masterlist for it here.

Note: So sorry that it's super late, but thanks, for your patience :) hope you enjoy!

I match you with: DRAKEN

Runner-up was: Shinichiro

Draken:

Draken is definitely your type

He’s not verbal with his affection for you, but he shows it more through his actions, like having you walk on the inside of the sidewalk while he walks on the side closer to the street, or shoving his jacket over your head when it starts to rain and you both forgot to bring an umbrella–subtle yet sweet

He’s an incredibly loyal vice captain, and he’s just as loyal as your boyfriend, no other person catches his eye, only you!

Try cutting him off if you get mad at him, he won’t let it happen…he’ll just look at you like “-_- really?” like you really thought you could get rid of him? That’s funny

He knows how to handle someone with spontaneous emotions, he’s Mikey’s friend after all, so he handles your shyness and anger (if that ever happens) pretty well

Draken would never raise his voice at you, he can be pretty intimidating since he is 2nd in command of Toman, but you’re his special someone and he never uses that authority over you, he’s very soft and kind with you

I think someone responsible like you would be perfect for Draken since I think he’s also pretty mature for a guy, he’d need that same level of maturity in a partner as well, and you definitely have that

How does he react to you getting home late for unexpected reasons?

He’s worried of course, but he remains calm

I can’t imagine him overreacting for something like that unless you’re usually home around 4pm and it’s 10pm and you’re still not home…only then would he start to really worry and get antsy

But if you’re usually home by 4pm, but don’t get home until 6pm, then he’s totally calm

He would probably give you a call if it gets too late to figure out where you are and if you’re okay

Like I said, Draken is very mature and level-headed so he knows how to stay calm in situations like these

Gets a little more worried if you don’t answer his calls, but he still wouldn’t run to find you in the streets or anything (unless his gut is screaming at him that something is wrong, but 9 of out 10 times, he knows you’re okay)

Lowkey though I picture that he’d always want to have your location so he has you on life360 or something so he knows where you are at all times

He’s in a dangerous line of work so if anything were to ever happen to you, he’d want to be able to get to you quickly!

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Posted: 08/23/2023

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #draken x reader #tokyo revengers matchup

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olyia-stories · 2 years ago

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Let's get into this: my thoughts on the Siege of Macindaw: book 6 of the Rangers apprentice

Aww Will sneaking up on Gundar! I bet he's going to offer redemption for letting Buttle go in the form of storming the keep.

Lol Gundar mistaking Will for a ghost, I bet Will enjoyed that just a little.

HORACE!

So I know the studded leather is probably nothing more than set dressing, but as it's fairly useless to stud leather armor I think it's very funny that Buttle is wearing it. Just another sign of his incompetence.

Love Will!

Well Orman was a little slow on the draw, a ranger named Will. I thought he already figured it out. But he was almost dead for a little, I won't judge too harshly.

"He made the peace sign" ✌️

Oh. Ohhhh. "Is. That. Clear." Will became so intimidating so quickly.

Ok the plan to capture the scotti general, tactically sound. Although I don't know how many more stomachs the clearing can feed. Even with Orman helping.

Oh Will wasn't with Halt to see that the ranger thing can't scare people outside of their country, they don't know to be afraid.

Losing Machaddish is on you Will, never take your eye off the enemy before you've secured him.

Anyways, Will won't die today.

I'm so glad Horace is as smart and as loyal as he is. Things were looking dire for Will.

Will thinks it's no big deal that a Scotti got away, but want of a plot begs to differ.

It seems the clearing was ready for prisoners.

Lol the whole frightening MacHaddish scene is hilarious and devious. Who knew the healer could be so evil?

And then kicking off the platform boots

So they need a ton more men to infiltrate Macindaw, it's a good thing they happen to know a certain evil spirit that uses explosive powders to make a point.

Oof. Alyss coming in for the final blow against Kerens pride

I think Will's plan might actually work, but as there's still 200 pages left it can't work too well.

I wonder if Alyss saw the flare and if so what she thinks of it

And now for Will and Horace they get to hurry up and wait, I guess the army is the same no matter what universe you're in

"What rhymes with Macindaw?" Bro I love Horace so much!

Will LOVES ALYSS! he finally said it out loud! It just took the threat of death to admit it

And she doesn't think it really happened. Horace is right will need to come out and say it or they'll be stuck in this dance forever

"There weren't many fools in the Ranger corps, but he realized he just met one." WILL a savage!

I might have seen Will giving shadow to Trobar coming, but it was still hard to read

Ah a pretty girl like Delia, of course she got married while Will was away

Ooh self-proclaimed prophet ehh? I smell sequal bait!

BLESS HORACE! I love my meddling son

What a good ending to this book! They're so cute and will is growing up so fast! I already have the next book checked out from the library and hopefully it doesn't take me a whole 3 months to read the next one as it did this one

Thanks for reading my thoughts to the 5 people that keep liking these when I post them

#the rangers apprentice #the siege of macindaw #will treaty #olyia reads

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dnickels · 1 year ago

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Julian Fellowes writing steelworkers is a hilarious idea to start with, but I've been trying to put my finger on what feels slightly 'off' about the storyline. Putting aside the usual amount of Fellowesian nonsense, at least some of the dissonance is in how the demands are phrased. 'Bourgeois' isn't quite the word here but "I just want to spend more time with my family" is calibrated to be palatable to a certain audience, and that is not an audience of basement dynamite IWW radicals. It may be that that was deliberate in-universe, because its the argument that would reach known wife guy and superdad George Russell, but it serves to defang the movement. Frankly, when the titans of industry were waxing hysterical about the blood-dimmed tide loosed upon the world over a few dollars' wage increase, they weren't wrong! A strong, organized workforce that can advocate for workplace democracy is the end of their world entirely. It is radical! It's revolutionary! These weren't guys who wanted a few concessions (pwease Mr. Carnegie, more rails around the molten steel vats) they were dreaming about fundamentally changing the course of history. "The working class and the employing class have nothing in common. There can be no peace so long as hunger and want are found among millions of working people, and the few, who make up the employing class, have all the good things of life," as contemporaries very famously declared. The triumph of the union is the end of Newport cottages. As history it's nonsensical but it's a Fellowes joint, we're letting him have that, but as television making he's missing a powerful engine of conflict.

I had a thought "Fellowes writes the steelworkers like a guy who's never had a reason to be mad at his boss", which on the one hand feels true, and yet we have seen him write about workers trapped in untenable positions-- its just that the best examples are all lady's maids. It's very funny to me that that rough and ready, heavily armed steelworkers are somehow less furious and threatening than O'Brien, who attempted to harm and almost killed her employer through an act of workplace sabotage! He must on some level understand the rage and desperation of her position. He understands the total power an employer can have-- Agnes was obviously in the right morally when she moved to correct Armstrong's behavior and make her understand the consequences would be severe, but for whatever reason Racist Armstrong makes a much more heartfelt case for the precarity of her life than the steelworkers who have presumably seen guys die on the shop floor. We know Fellowes is aware of how dangerous work in the trades is at this time, multiple comments have been made about workers dying building the Brooklyn Bridge. You think that might come up in the strike storyline but they're oddly separate.

I don't particularly want to watch his netflix soccer show again, but I feel like I'm pulling on a vital thread when I think about how flat the team dynamics fell on that show and how the steelworker's union feels very two-dimensional here. For whatever reason (and I am putting my already shredded credibility on the line here to say so) Julian Fellowes has an extraordinary insight into the (historical) lives of women and gay men, but seems uncomfortable or even shy when asked to write about male camaraderie (see: the war season of DA with extremely very little war in it). The only male characters I can think of who are 1. of a similar age 2. in equivalent positions of power 3. not related to each other in his work are Church and Bannister, who are waging Butler War from across the street. I don't know what explicit conclusion I would draw here, but its fascinating to me to watch him fumble through this storyline at this moment of renewed labor militancy, reconfiguration of interpersonal workplace norms, unconstrained power of the individual capitalist, and male loneliness. It's not like I think this 74 year old relic (it's not because he's old, its because he believes in philosophies that lost most of their adherents on the first day of the Somme) has his finger on the pulse, but DA clearly spoke to people. Will Gilded Age push the same buttons?

(the only theme more common in Fellowes' writing than sad trapped debutantes is Powerful Benevolent Rich Dad but that one seems self-explanatory (Dr. Freud to the lobby please) in a way we'll quietly ignore for the sake of everyone's dignity)

#longpost #tga

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silvaswiftcast · 1 year ago

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FFxivWrite2023 Prompt #17 (Free Day): Freedom

Characters: Silva Cataracta, Ricmorn Cataracta, and Hien Rijin

Rating: Mature (Really is a Teen rating at most, but don't want Tumblr to yell at me since there is mildly suggestive themes in this!)

Notes: This scene takes place sometime after Shadowbringers Patch 5.3. Words in [brackets] are in another language, in this case, it's in Doman.

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), M/F/M relationship, Nudity, Mild Suggestive Themes, Playful Banter/Teasing.

"This is nice."

"What is, [wildflower?]"

Silva tilted her head a little, catching bright hazel eyes gazing down at her curiously. She looked away for a moment, heat flooding her cheeks, before meeting him again. "This!" she beamed, gesturing to herself, the room, and the two men she was lying in bed with. "The stillness and peace. For having a space — no matter how brief it is for the moment — where I can leave the world's troubles at the door and not think. To—"

A large palm running up her calf made her pause. She tried her best not to let her breath catch in her throat, but failed when the tender touch continued. Hearty, rumbling chuckles filled her ivory horns when piercing, sky-blue orbs found her eyes.

"To have the chance to lie in bed naked with your two lovers, hm?" Ricmorn suggested teasingly. "Oh— Who also happened to be naked and tangled up in the sheets with you?"

He and Hien chuckled again when the lilac flush staining her face turned lavender.

"Well— I mean, that is a pleasant bonus," she mumbled, her long tail swishing under the thin blankets loosely covering the three of them. "But that is beside the point! You cannot tell me neither of you enjoy the freedom these not-so-little moments give us."

More laughter filled the air when she rolled her eyes, only for both men to mumble sweet apologies when she pouted. Ricmorn pressed kisses to Silva’s bent knee while the young lord’s lips found her temple — her pout melted into a smile when their mouths touched her skin.

“Teasing aside, you’re right, my dear,” the Auri man murmured.

“Usually am~”

Ricmorn snorted. “Yes, yes.”

“Pray know we enjoy these precious moments just as much as you do, Silva,” Hien agreed, his fingers gently drawing abstract patterns to the ivory scales at her waist. “Whether it be my room here in Doma or your home in Ul’dah and Kugane, it’s nice to have places where we can freely be who we are without worrying about the expectations of others.”

“You mean you like having places to hide from your advisors when they try to drown you in paperwork and nonsensical questions?” Silva joked, amusement dancing in her eyes. The way his eyes widened was funny and endearing to her.

“I— Well—”

“She has you there, my friend.”

“You two act like you don’t come to my home to hide from your fellow Scions when they annoy you to no end from time to time! We all play this game of hide and seek!”

“Hey!” she laughed, playfully hitting the young lord’s leg with her tail. “I come here for more than just that! Cuddles, good food, kisses—”

“Sex—” Ricmorn coughed. He smirked when she sent a glare at him.

It was his turn to get whacked by her tail, his mouth turning into a frown when Hien laughed at him for rubbing the spot she hit on his side.

“I’m going to kill you. I hope you know that, dear husband.”

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #FFxivWrite Challenge #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv #silva writes

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

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A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic)

(GIF credit to @aryaofoldstones)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I saw your looking for Bridgerton requests, I would love some Benedict x Eloise sibling fluff! They have such a good dynamic in the show and I need more’

(I wouldn’t mind making another part of this if people want it tbh)

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise’s gloved hands clung onto her book as she and her family arrived at yet another social event, a ball once again. Her mama had ensured she was dressed to catch the eyes of men, and Eloise knew that meant there would be no room for intelligent conversation. With Daphne now married to the Duke, Eloise had more pressure on her shoulders than she imagined, having to find a suitor of similar standards. However, it wasn’t just her on the market, her brothers were too, especially Benedict (Violet knew it would be extremely difficult to marry off Anthony first, opting for the second eldest son).

Eloise smiled whenever her mama looked her way, though it quickly disappeared once she turned around. Benedict had been instructed to escort her sister around the ball to help seek out suitors, the men knew each other or something about someone; he could help her meet the right one.

“I cannot believe I am here.” Eloise moaned as she looped her arm through her brothers.

“Believe me sister, I do not wish to be here either.”

“Why must you parade me around like a horse at a dressage in order to find a new owner?” Eloise kept catching the men’s gazes, turning up her nose in disgust.

“So dramatic.” he chuckled.

She scoffed.“Well, if you’re going to advise me on who I should be marrying, I shall do the same for you. Now let’s see...”

Eloise looked around the room at all the women, wondering who would be the best match for her brother. Most of these women had no personalities, relying on their outfits to express themselves. Eloise knew of some ladies that were nice, though had nothing in common with her brother.

Eloise shrugged, tugging on her brother’s arm towards the door.“Ah, there’s no one here for us. Let us make haste and leave-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Benedict pulled her back,“we have been strictly told to stay for the night, even if it is just to socialise and...get our names out there.”

Eloise groaned a little too loudly, Ben ducking his head in embarrassment.“How long do these balls go on for?”

“I have never stayed for the full duration.”

“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”

Benedict glanced down at her, somehow only just realising that Eloise had brought a book with her.“Is that book sewed to your hand sister?”

“I brought it just in case I became bored. Which I am already.”

“I shall go and grab us some refreshments. Might as well enjoy them whilst we’re here.”

Eloise let her brother slip away, quickly finding a hiding spot by leaning up against a wall, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds. She opened her book, continuing where she left off, happy she brought a pencil to scribble down notes for later. The studying never stopped for Eloise.

“Excuse me?” a woman’s voice interrupted her too soon.

Eloise tried her best to be polite, though her smile came off as sarcastic.“Yes?”

“Sorry,” the woman looked taken back,“I thought you were reading a book that I am reading at the moment, but I was wrong. I’ve disturbed you, I shall leave you alone-”

“Wait,” Eloise had now sparked an interest. No other lady had ever approached her like this,“I don’t mean to be rude. What book had you expected?”

“It’s oh so obvious, but I’ve been reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. It’s the newest book out at the moment, and my mama lets me read it seeing as it involves a woman finding someone to marry. Although, it’s definitely about something deeper, that’s just what I told her.”

“I don’t indulge in romantic novels myself, but I am glad to hear of a female author selling her work.”

“It’s fantastic. And it’s nice to be able to read something without it being snatched out of my hands. Oh, where are my manners? I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Sorry, I’ve been dancing with men all night and none of the conversations have been as riveting as this so far.”

“Why am I not surprised?” they both laughed.“I’m Eloise Bridgerton.”

(Y/N) tried to not show her shock when she heard the surname. They were only the most talked about family, her mama had gone on and on about them, especially when Lady Whistledown mentioned them in her writings.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Might I ask what it is that you are reading?”

“It is to do with my studies. I truly hate these events, so I thought I would ensure my mind was being worked properly.” Eloise realised that could come off as rude, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.“I did not mean to offend you by that.”

“It really isn’t any bother.” (Y/N) giggled.“I rather enjoy these just for the dancing and drinks, I find promenading to be more successful in finding a suitor. Though I would much rather sneak off and see if I can get a few more pages in of a book I shouldn’t be reading.”

“Eloise, why must you go wondering off like that...” Benedict’s words trailed off as he approached his sister, spotting a beautiful woman stood by her.

Eloise’s eyes flickered between the two, and she smiled when she saw the adoration in her brother’s eyes. Cheekily taking the two glasses from his hands, she passed one to (Y/N), who awkwardly took it. (Y/N) had gazed upon the Bridgerton men in passing, they were very nice to look at. Of course, she never divulged in any fantasies about them, that would be silly. But seeing one in front of her had taken her breath away.

“Thank you brother.” Eloise said, taking a sip.“This is Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a new friend of mine.”

He gently took her free hand in his, bending forwards slightly to kiss it. (Y/N) had this done to her many times, but this was different. Benedict made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Eloise could tell her mama was going to love this.

She cleared her throat.“We were just speaking of art, actually.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows.“We were talking about books.”

“I was about to move the topic along.”

“What kind of art would that be then?” Benedict asked, knowing what game his sister was playing.

“The...drawing, kind.”

“Isn’t all art drawn?”

“No, it is also painted.”

“I think artists may sketch out a rough idea before painting.”

“Well you would know brother, seeing as you yourself are an artist.”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“You paint, Lord Bridgerton?” (Y/N) asked.

“Ah, yes, and I sketch.” he hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red.

“Anything in particular?”

“Mostly people.”

“Are you both attending the art exhibition my family are holding next week?”

“That’s your families’ exhibit?” Benedict became excited.

“Yes, my father collects a lot of art work. Then mother realised she could make a social event out of it, but at least everyone will be able to admire the work.”

“Would you believe it, we already have it noted down in our social calendar!” Eloise informed (Y/N). Benedict could sense her over-reacting, trying to keep a smile as (Y/N)’s face lit up in excitement.

“Perfect!” (Y/N) looked back up at Ben, making him stand a little taller.“It will be nice to have someone there who knows about the artwork. It will make for an interesting conversation. Just don’t let my father lecture you, he will talk for far too long! And I know you will be too polite to try and get away.”

“My brother is very polite.” Eloise said.“In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t-”

“Excuse me for the intrusion,” a young man said from beside (Y/N),“but I was wondering if we could resume our dance lady (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) was smiling, but Eloise knew that look; it was the face women made when a man who made them uncomfortable approached, but they had to remain ladylike and polite.

“Actually my brother just asked her and she said yes. You two best make your way to the floor before the music starts again.” Eloise nudged her brother.

Benedict was confused at his sisters offer, until he locked eyes with (Y/N) again. They were pleading him to sweep her away, she was even leaning away from this man. He had been disrespectful in some way, and he wasn’t letting (Y/N) go through that again (despite only knowing the girl for a few minutes). He smugly smiled at the man, holding out his arm which (Y/N) took a little too quickly. Eloise was happy with herself as the pair walked off, sending the man a death glare when he asked her to dance instead. Once he left, her eyes went back to find her brother, who was already dancing with (Y/N), both smiling and laughing. Her mama was going to be ecstatic about this.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise sat in the drawing room, obviously lounging with a book. Her younger siblings were being irritating as usual, running around her in circles. Before they arrived, she had peace. Eloise wanted a few moments alone, because she knew her mama would be bursting with questions about the night before.

“Ah, there you are.” Violet said as she walked in.

The book flopped into Eloise’s lap, a frown on her face. There goes her reading time.

“So, how was last night? Did you meet anyone?” her mama sat beside her.“You two, go play outside if you’re going to run around please.”

The children stopped as their mama spoke, sending each other devilish grins before they ran out of the room again, their giggling echoing down the halls. Violet went to shout after them, but decided to leave it be, there were more pressing matters.

“Well mama, do you see any suitors?” Eloise gestured around her.

Violet sighed.“Did you even try last night?”

“My life will not be reduced to a single night where I was forced to peacock around in order to please a man.”

“Oh, Eloise, must you make everything so dramatic?”

“Funny, Benedict said the same thing.”

“Actually, where is your brother? I have not seen him all morning.”

“He went out.” Eloise was relieved that the focus would now be off of her.“He’s calling upon a lady.”

Violet’s eyes widened.“What? When? Who?”

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N)? They are quite reputable.”

Eloise rolled her eyes.“Mama, she is a lovely girl. I don’t think you should just judge her on what family she comes from.”

“Oh, so you approve of this girl?”

“I...I mean...Well, I only spoke with her for a mere few minutes.”

“But?”

Eloise let out a huff.“I enjoyed her company. I think Benedict likes her. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night until it was time to leave. He spent all his time with her.”

Violet became overjoyed.“Oh, what marvelous news! I wish he had told me. Do you know what he took to her? Flowers? Food?”

“I have no idea mama. Just wait for his return and he will tell you all the details. I am not a psychic.”

Violet was impatient as she awaited the return of her son. Poor Collin had also been questioned when he showed up in the drawing room, but he had overslept in bed, waking with a terrible headache. It seemed that it was about to come back to him when his mama bombarded him with questions as to why he hadn’t called upon anyone that morning. Eloise kept her giggles quiet, ducking behind her book when Collin sent her daggers.

Poor Benedict had no idea what was in store for him. His cheeks were aching from how much he was smiling. He wasn’t surprised when he arrived at the (Y/L/N)’s house and saw multiple callers for (Y/N). However, jealousy rose inside him when he thought about these men dancing with her, trying to convince her that they were the man to marry. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers, remembering that (Y/N) had mentioned her favourite the night before. Looking around at any other flowers she received, he was glad to see no other gentleman had chose it. Surely that would show he was listening? He endured sonnets, stories, songs and boasting from the other men, trying not to show his dissatisfaction as each one stepped forward. There was pressure that her parents were there, especially when he realised he was the last gentleman, everyone else had left.

(Y/N) had been incredibly anxious when she saw Benedict that morning. He had been the only man she genuinely smiled at, hoping he came at his own will, not forced by his mama. The night before had been the best ball (Y/N) had ever been to. Benedict was sweet, charming, handsome and interesting. They were able to talk about anything and everything, no small talk involved like all the other men she danced with. He had swooned her, and here he was, calling upon her.

Back at the Bridgerton house, Violet had not sat down since talking Collin’s ear off. Eloise was still in the drawing room with her, as were her two youngest siblings, munching on biscuits as they threw questions at their mama. She did not have all the answers, sometimes not even hearing them speak for she was too deep in her thoughts. At one point, she did sit, but beside the window, o the lookout for any signs of her son. When a carriage pulled up in front of the house, Violet leapt out of her seat, startling her children. She made a beeline to the door, standing there with her hands clasped together. When Benedict walked in, he too flinched, not expecting his mama to be there.

“Mama, how long have you been stood there?” Benedict asked as he walked past her, pinching a biscuit from his brother’s plate.

“She’s been waiting for you.” Eloise explained, also excited to hear about his calling.

“I hope you sat down at some point.” he joked, sitting beside Eloise and slouching.

Violet hurried to sit on the sofa across him.“You didn’t tell me you were calling on a lady this morning.”

“Well, we got back late from the ball yesterday evening, and I had to leave early to ensure I got there in good time. Though it seemed every other man thought that too.”

“There were many men there?”

“Yes, quite a few.”

Eloise straightened up at her brother’s grumpy expression.“You really like her!”

“How wonderful!” Violet gushed.

“Do not get ahead of yourselves.”

“But you do, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have called on her.”

Ben was lost for words. He couldn’t argue with that, and he did like seeing his mama happy.“Yes, yes I do. And it would seem she reciprocates the feelings.”

“This is such good news! I must see what our social calendar looks like, we must ensure you two spend time together.”

“Actually mama-” Eloise went to tell her about the art exhibit until Ben interrupted.

“Good idea mama.” he nodded, smiling at her as she walked away, a spring in her step. Once she was gone, he let out a big breath.“I just needed a moment without questions from her.”

“Well, you’re going to have questions from me.” Eloise angled her body to face him, her elbow perched on the sofa with her face resting in her hand.“I didn’t think you were going to call upon her. Are my match making skills really that good?”

“I hate to admit it, but yes, you have done an excellent job.” Benedict felt relaxed thinking about (Y/N).

“So, what happened this morning?”

“I took her flowers, she told me her favourites last night, and then I had to sit there whilst her other gentleman callers desperately tried to impress her. It was agony! Finally I was able to have time with her, and it was just...I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Did you bring her anything else?”

Benedict became bashful.“I brought her a sketchbook, like the one I have. She mentioned how she used to often sketch when she was younger. I thought it would be a unique gift.”

“Benedict, you truly are a romantic at heart.”

“For her I am, yes.”

Eloise smiled for her brother, until a smirk fell on his face.“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Aw, is someone also a secret romantic?”

“No!” Eloise protested, quickly grabbing her book again.“I am just happy you found someone.”

“And you helped, because you secretly want everyone to find someone.”

“No I don’t! You’re ruining this moment now Benedict.”

“Don’t worry Eloise, you’ll find someone.” Ben joked.

She groaned.“You are insufferable...but I still want to go to that art exhibit.”

“To see love bloom?”

“N-no, to see the art work.”

“Of course, of course. But, thank you Eloise.”

She tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it.“You’re welcome.”

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

make me be true, make me be blue // Anthony Bridgerton

A/N: As much as I love Benedict, I also love Anthony. The last part of this is extremely inspired by a scene from The Crown - let’s see if you can guess which one! Title: Harry Connick jr - It Had To Be You

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: arguing, an argument, lots of love and fluff, caring, established relationship, married couple, suggestiveness, female pronouns, use of word ‘wife’.

Word count: 2.8k

As the season in London drew to a close, it could be seen on every face that they were tired of the dancing and the music and the lukewarm lemonade. It was never a comment on the talent of the musicians unless, perhaps, it was a Smythe-Smith musical. Their seasonal musical was never welcomed with much excitement, but very few could say no to the quartet of young women.

Nevertheless, whomever the artist may be, many were glad for the season to draw to a close. Sighing tiredly, you bid your goodbyes to the latest lady to draw you into conversation. Your lavender skirts swish gently under foot as you wander around the lavishly decorated ballroom, in search for your dear husband.

You spy his hair first; the dark brown hair standing a head taller than the rest of the men he currently spoke with. Repressing another tired sigh, you note that the elderly white-haired men Anthony was standing with were of large importance in society.

“The Revolution was over two decades ago, and it seems France traded in one monarch for another,” is what you hear as you sidle up to Anthony. He smiles down at you, hooking his arm through yours, before turning his attention back to the conversation.

Anthony nods along; his interest piqued but not to the point where he would happily contribute to the debate. Instead, he simply offers, “True, a king for an emperor.”

“Surely Napoleon is still in exile,” You comment lightly, eyebrows furrowing at the topic of conversation between the men. They would never see a day of war between them; having enough money between them meaning they would not have dress in a uniform. As such, there was no need for the conversation.

“Dear girl, Napoleon left Elba and landed back in Paris last week. Do you read the papers?” Lord Hugo states, a dismissive look on his face as if questioning your very presence in the conversation. He frowns at your comfortable stance next to your husband, wondering why you aren’t socialising with the other wives.

A flush heats your body; rising anger. Turning to Anthony, you squeeze the hand that rests on his forearm, a silent plea for help but your husband remains silent.

Ducking your head, you state through clenched teeth, “Pardon me, Lord Hugo. I must be making a round of the room; I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was neglecting my womanly duties.”

“As you should,” The Lord replies as you turn your back to him. You bristle from the comment, back straightening despite the corset designed to do such an action. It wouldn’t be long now until Anthony wrapped up the conversation; seeking you out through the crowd. For you however, the ball was over – nothing left to be said.

------------

Stalking through the large house, you ignore the increasing calls of your husband. Having left the carriage in a hurry of skirts, silks and ribbons, Anthony had begun immediately calling your name – wanting you to stop and wait, to stop and listen.

Even the Butler remains silent as he catches a glimpse of your face and the thunderous expression it currently holds. Silently, the Butler offers a prayer for the wellbeing of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.

“You’re really going to remain silent?” Anthony calls from the bottom of the staircase, one foot poised on the bottom step, ready to launch himself upstairs at a moment’s call.

Pausing in your retreat, you throw a glare at your husband. A look that definitely shows you were not up for talking on the stairs.

Anthony nods, seemingly understanding this. “So it’s the silent treatment until we’re in our room,” He pauses, beginning the ascent to the bedroom he has shared with you since the first night of your marriage, “Understandable.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from the man that had managed to vex you so thoroughly.

Shoving open the door to your shared bedroom does little to siphon off some of the anger you feel. In fact, it only increases when you try to work the laces of your dress free by yourself, frustrated tears brewing in the corner of your eyes as you manoeuvre yourself into every position possible to try and free yourself.

Slumping at your dressing table, you come to realise that it was more humiliation that you felt.

Your husband was a marvellous man; intelligent, funny, respectful and incredibly handsome. Yet, he had moments where he could so fantastically obtuse.

The moment played in your mind on a constant loop; the words of disdain from the Lord, Anthony’s silence. A constant loop in your mind; it would be a while before your mind rested enough to let you have some peace.

Brushing your hands through your hair, you loosen the pins that keep in place, beginning the painstaking process of removing them. All the while thinking that if the night had gone better, Anthony would be the one removing them, offering you a kiss for each pin removed.

--------

Anthony had taken his time walking to the bedroom, running through the events of the evening, thinking where he might have gone wrong – said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing. He found the moment; realised what he had said or rather, what he hadn’t said, and how it had come across. Lord Hugo was an incredibly influential man, and whilst Anthony outranked him in his peerage, his youth made him all but an inexperienced whelp in Hugo’s eyes.

Hindsight was truly an excellent gift to possess. He should have said something; Hugo’s influence be damned. He should have spoken up; should have defended you.

Gently, he rests his forehead against the closed door of the bedroom. He takes a deep breath and places a hand on the wooden panel; desperate to reach through to you, but he knows that there is far more on your mind than comfort at this point.

Anthony enters the bedroom slowly, closing the door softly behind him. “Are you ready to talk me now, darling?” Anthony asks, voice soft but tone wary as he takes in your defeated state.

“You humiliated me in front of that odious man by staying silent.”

His eyes widen; truly unaware of such a misdeed taking place. “I didn’t know, truly.”

“That’s what hurts most, Anthony. This is not a marriage of equals, darling. I know you love me as much as I love you, but I have brought nothing to this marriage. I did not get the pleasure to go to university despite doing so well in my studies. I cannot travel freely, and I cannot speak my mind whenever I damn well please. There are going to be some topics that I am not going to be an expert on, but you can try your best not to defend me when I get things wrong.”

“Darling, I didn’t mean any harm.”

You sniffle, wiping away the few tears that have dared to fall. “I know you didn’t, yet it still happened.”

Anthony opens and closes his mouth, searching for something – anything – to say that could make this better, but nothing comes to mind, so nothing leaves his mouth.

A pained noise leaves your lips as you turn away from your husband, reaching for your face cream, your hairbrush – anything to keep your hands busy and the tears at bay.

Finally, a sigh is all you hear, and you figure that the conversation is done for the evening. A lingering kiss is placed to the top of your head before Anthony leaves the bedroom, presumably retiring to his study.

Once free of the confines your dress, you dress for bed, crawling under the covers. Running a hand down your face, you couldn’t help but hope Anthony would join you soon. Despite the anger you felt at the man, you couldn’t fall asleep without him next to you.

---------

You wake alone. Anthony’s side of the bed is ruffled; he had joined you an hour after you had slide under the covers. He hadn’t said anything; he had simply gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly, pressing apologetic kiss after apologetic kiss to whatever piece of bare skin he could reach.

Stretching a hand to his side of the bed, the sheets are cold. Reaching for his pillow, you hold it to your face, inhaling the spiciness of whatever cologne he used last night. Keeping the pillow close, you turn onto your back, thinking over the events of last night.

You had every right to be annoyed; you had every right to feel the way you did. If this was a different society, you would not rely on Anthony to defend you – you would have spoken your mind to Lord Hugo. But this was not a different society, and its trappings were stifling. For the hope of future generations, you couldn’t help but pray things would soon change.

------------

The day moves slowly. Tea with Anthony’s mother and sisters followed by a visit to the modiste. No sign of Anthony with every visit home and your mood drops with every shake of the Butler’s head.

Eventually, you find refuge in the library, searching through the books and the papers there. It had been so long since you had read something that was not a romance. Pride and Prejudice had been published just two years ago and you had read it countless times; enjoying the author’s way with words and her creation of Mr. Darcy. However, instead of picking up the latest romance, you chose to return to the books you had so adored in your education – historical accounts of past monarchs and their reigns, accounts of wars.

It was not for the sake of Lord Hugo who sneered at you with such derision; it was for your benefit. Knowledge was free and you owned the library through marriage, why shouldn’t you take a look?

-----------

The Butler clearing his throat is what brings your attention back to the present. Having lost yourself so freely in an account of the witch hunts that had plagued the north of England; the book had caught your eye, tucked away and gathering dust. The subject had immediately caught your interest, and you soon found yourself searching for all the books you could on the subject.

Smiling sheepishly at the Butler, you ask, “Have some guests arrived? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

He shakes his head, smiling fondly at you, “I thought you would like to know that the Viscount has returned home. He is currently in his study.”

Standing from your chair, you deposit your book on a table before thanking the Butler and rushing up the stairs to Anthony’s study. You pause just outside the door, gathering yourself, tidying your appearance and slowing your breathing to an acceptable rate.

Knocking on the door, your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear his warm voice giving you permission to enter.

Anthony freezes in his chair when he sees you enter his study. Your eyes are bright and there’s a faint flush to your skin that has Anthony’s eyes raking over your body, curious to know what’s caused such a reaction in you.

“Darling,” He greets, voice kind and warm.

“Darling,” You reply, watching the smile grow across his face when he hears the fondness in your voice.

“How has your day been?” Anthony asks, drawing out the inevitable conversation.

You smile widely, “I spent most of it in the library, reading.”

“A new romance novel?”

You shake your head, smoothing down the skirts of your sage green dress, “The trials of the Berwick and Pendle witches.”

Anthony’s eyes widen almost comically. “I didn’t even know we had books on the topic.”

“Neither did I, but I’ve been reading through the accounts all day. It truly is fascinating. Did you know History was my strongest subject when I was in education?”

Again, Anthony shakes his head. He didn’t know; he hadn’t asked. You shrug, “Arithmetic, Geography, Latin… They never grasped me as much as History did. I would read for hours about whatever I could find: the Tudors, the Saxons, military strategy…” At the further widening of Anthony’s eyes, you continue, “I suppose as I grew older and I was then out as a debutante, I lost the habit.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony murmurs before saying, “You can always find the habit again.”

You smile widely; the grin brightening your face as it stretches to your eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that darling,” You begin, “I want to be more involved, Anthony. I don’t want to be a silent partner; I want to be there; I want to comment. I want to know what is happening with foreign affairs whether it is Napoleon or the price of tea. I want to know because I want to be on a more equal footing with you. I refuse to be humiliated that way again; it was awful, to be dismissed in that manner by that loathsome man.”

You stand before your husband, chest heaving in your restrictive dress. The words lay loud in the room; your plea for Anthony to speak up for you, your demand for further equality in your marriage.

“I called on Lord Hugo this afternoon,” Anthony states rather plainly after you fall silent, as if the meeting had been in his date book for months.

“You did?” You frown at him; wondering whether he had heard a single word that you had flung into the great expanse.

He nods. “He was rather surprised to see me. I’ll admit I didn’t plan on calling on him, but I kept thinking of last night and how destroyed you looked. I don’t ever want to see that look on your face again for as long as I shall live. So,” He shrugs, “I paid the Lord a visit.”

“How did it go?”

Anthony holds his right up and it is then that you see the dark purple now beginning to bruise his knuckles. “I may have lost my temper when I remembered how he spoke to you and how you felt afterwards,” Anthony pauses and then laughs loudly, “And I may have punched him in the face.”

“Anthony!” You berate, repressing the urge to roll your eyes at your ever vexing husband. “Is anything broken?”

He shakes his head, smiling widely, “Only Hugo’s nose.”

“My hero,” You drawl, heart racing as you take in the man that you married. The smart, brilliant and hot-headed man that you promised your forever to who had defended your honour against the man who had rudely spoken to you last night. He grins cheekily at your words, wiggling his fingers to show you that there was nothing broken – he was fine.

“You can read whatever you’d like,” He states firmly, “You can study whatever you like. Humiliate the man if there’s a next time.”

“Thank you,” You reply, holding your head high as you smile gratefully at the love of your life.

Anthony stands from his chair, having now recovered from the shock of your speech and the ease of which he can accept your demands. He had never been the easiest man to get along with; stubborn and set in his ways long before he ought to have been, but you had taken him in your stride, loving him just as fiercely as he loved you.

He rounds the desk. All the while his gaze does not leave yours. A sensual smile spreads across his face as he watches you wring your hands together – a nervous tic if there ever was any.

Leaning against the desk, Anthony crosses his ankles, resting hands upon the lip of his desk. He remains happy in the knowledge that even after the honeymoon period of your marriage was over, you would still track his every move. Your eyes dancing over his figure as he rests his weight upon the desk.

“There’s something different about you,” He finally says, breaking the silence of the room.

“Oh?” You whisper, your shoulders rolling back as you try to think about what could have changed – a new dress? A new attitude?

“You’re surer of yourself. It makes you look taller.”

“I don’t particularly think I’ve gained any height.”

“Perhaps not,” Anthony allows; a seductive smile on his face as he tilts his head to one side, regarding you. “But it presents me with two options.”

“And they are?”

“Well,” He begins, running a hand through his thick hair, “I could go and find a ladder to reach the new height of my tall wife or…”

Anthony trails off, leaving you in suspense as you find yourself taking those first few steps closer to him. Desperate to be in his arms, to be touched by the man you love - body and soul.

“Or…” You breathe; voice raspy with growing need.

“Or” Anthony beams, “She can get on her knees.”

***********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagines

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stylistiquements · 3 years ago

Text

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap smau #smau #mcyt smau #sapnap x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap series #129 days #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #sapnap fluff

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autisticandroids · 4 years ago

Note

I appreciate you being Dean concerned and not Dean critical. I’m sure you’ve already answered this before but what do you genuinely like about him? A lot of his good traits get twisted in your meta (and in the show) which is really interesting! But like. What about him do you just think is neat?

Also, you don’t talk about Sam a lot but I’m rewatching season 8 and it really feels like both a continuation of preseason one -> season one (Sam has a normal life, Dean is gone -> Sam wants to return to his normal life but Dean coming back gets him back in the game) which also gives it finale vibes :(

Besides the fact that the stuff with Amelia is really boring, it all just feels ooc and like a step back for Sam. Not to go on a rant but Sam seemed to finally make peace with his life back in season 7.

The stuff with Amelia also has both the same and the exact opposite energy as the stuff with Lisa. During his time with Lisa, it was always like Dean had one foot out the door back to hunting. During his time when he goes back to hunting with Dean in season 8, it feels like Sam always has one foot out the door back to Amelia.

That and I just can’t bring myself to give a shit about Amelia (maybe because she’s boring and inconsistent, maybe because info about her is drop fed instead of presented mostly all at once like with Lisa in season 6, maybe because she’s just shoved in for something for Sam to be up to and it feels ooc to me idk)

I thought I’d like season 8 (and I do really like a lot of Cas’ stuff but he’s always my favorite anyway so that was basically gaurenteed) but a lot of the stuff just makes my brain feel like a white noise machine. I’m only on episode 10 so I’m sure it’ll get better for me once the Sam stuff gets resolved but for now it’s very.... eh.

Thoughts?

okay so, what i like about dean. hm. that's hard! i love dean, for all sorts of reasons, and i know i'll miss stuff, but: - he charms me, on a sort of pure, animal level. he's very charming, that's true within the show but it's true for the audience, or at least me, as well. he's funny, he's affectionate, he's sweet, and he tries so hard. and it makes me love him - he's compellingly tragic. like dean is a fucked up guy, he hurts both himself and everyone around him because of patterns of trauma an neurosis he can't break out of. no one wants to be a bad guy, no one wants to hurt the ones they love, least of all dean, but he can't stop doing both those things. like his self-made cage of ideology, emotional repression, and control is killing him, and it's killing everyone who doesn't get away from him, and that's sad! it's awful! no one is winning except dean's self-image. he will sacrifice everyone and everything he loves on the altar of never having to re-evaluate himself. or, i hope he won't. but he might! and that's sad! it's the perfect tragedy! - second hand deangirlism due to cas kinnie disease. men will be the first person who was ever nice to castiel and then me and castiel will love them forever about it. - he is my little puzzle box and i will solve him - straightmarried gf i liked that sam ran off and tried to escape The Life in s8, that makes sense to me. i think sam really fundamentally doesn't want to be a hunter and the only reason he gives up on trying to leave post s8 is that it is impressed upon him that he's completely trapped. he can never be free. dean will always drag him back, kicking and screaming. i actually feel like sam's equivalent to lisa isn't amelia, it's jess. i talked some about that here but like. both jess and lisa were kind of synecdoches for a false ideal of the american dream, each in their own way. they're both images of suburban perfection, and what draws the winchesters to them is the desire to fit into that image.

but comparing lisa and amelia..... like, dean promises sam that he will go try to make a normal life with lisa, and then he does, because that obligation is all he has left to cling to. like dean is nothing but a miserable little pile of duties and tasks, he doesn't know who he is without a chore (see: demon!dean's total directionlessness) and lisa is the last promise he made to his brother, so he fulfills that. she's an idea to him, not a real woman. the thing he's clinging to, in sam's absence, is not lisa, but the idea of a normative suburban lifestyle. but then the moment sam shows up and voids his own last wishes, dean is like okay bye i don't need to fulfill this obligation anymore. like he was never all that interested in lisa. he didn't love her and his relationship with her was built on obligations, normative images, and anxiety over her safety, which finally resolves itself in dean horrifically violating her by asking cas to wipe her memories.

whereas sam is with amelia because he like, meets her and they form a connection. they hit it off. and sam has a pattern of like. when he wants to get away from something, especially if dean isn't around, he jumps into bed with the nearest girl who smiles at him and then forms a super intense with her. his early season one-off love interests, ruby, and now amelia. (amelia is actually kind of the last time he does that, because after season eight he gives up trying to escape for real). but what he's clinging to there isn't an image that he's trying to fit into. it's the girl herself. like he likes amelia and he wants to be around her and he dives into like. spending time with her and building a relationship with her. and like amelia is a real woman and sam sees her as a real woman. like she's a fucked up mess and so is he and they connect. like she's a bitch and she clogs her drain with limes. also #MyGirlfriendsHusbandFightsForYourFreedom. like samelia is a little boring but i don't begrudge sam that. it's almost compelling because it's boring.

i'm actually not a huge season eight guy myself but my issue with it isn't samelia.

actually, and this is a complete tangent, can i bitch about season ten for a second? like. okay. seasons eight and nine are about sam learning that dean will never let him go. that he's trapped forever in the hunting life and trapped forever with his brother, that dean will do horrific things to him in order to keep them together. and slowly just... giving up. deciding to relinquish his dreams of getting out once and for all.

and then season ten rolls around and suddenly sam makes a hypocrite of himself? suddenly sam is the one who will go to any lengths to save dean, even against dean's own wishes? NOT believable. like sam should be like. sad and fucked up about it, but letting dean go his own way. if anything, cas should be the one trying to save dean against his will, that's way more cas' move. like there's definitely a certain level of cas -> dean :: dean -> sam that exists in the show, at least in terms of protective fixation. cas is somewhat more respectful of dean's boundaries and autonomy, but he's the one with a pattern of blowing up at dean for being self-destructive etc etc.

like, sam should have been way different in s10. i don't know exactly what i would do with him, maybe give him his own distinct plot? or maybe have demon dean last somewhat longer and make "demon dean tries to kill sam" a whole multi-episode arc, i think that would slap. and then the relationship fallout from that can be many more episodes.

like imo this happened because jeremy carver got his start in season three, when sam legitimately was trying to save dean against dean's wishes, but in s3 that made sense. like, one, the brothers were much closer then, dean wasn't quite as much of a prison guard for sam, but two, much more importantly, dean's deal was sam's fault. he blamed himself. he wasn't just trying to save dean from dying, he was trying to save dean from going to hell because of him. like girl, it made sense in mystery spot. but this is not the energy you should be bringing to the table with sam in s10. ooc!

#spn #asks #anonymous

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gothicprep · 3 years ago

Text

Meditations on True Crime: A Very Long Post

In around February of this year, I was researching a potential video related to how true crime media portrays websleuths, contrasted against their efficacy in each specific case. The introduction was a brief primer on the genre’s evolution, beginning with its general association with low-budget LifeTime films, to a hobby with more dignity than that. I remember finding an article talking about Serial, and there was some commentary in there from another large true crime podcast host.

I didn’t think it was particularly useful for my purposes, but it said something to the effect of “true crime as a hobby can help women reconcile the trauma related to being in a world that is so hostile to us.” I rolled my eyes at it. It seemed dishonestly saccharine, like it was giving a sort of post-hoc legitimacy to just enjoying whodunnits. I didn’t think about it again for around seven months after I’d read it.

One of the subjects that I intended to talk about was Elisa Lam’s death and the online reaction to it. The story was adapted into a Netflix series a few months prior, and I was freshly reminded of how poorly it all sat with me. If you aren’t familiar with her name, she disappeared in Los Angeles’s Cecil Hotel in 2013, and her disappearance went viral after the respective police department release footage of her behaving strangely in an elevator. The case attained quick viral status and extensive discussion, due to the nature of the video and the hotel’s morbid history. When her naked body was discovered in a rooftop water tank a few weeks later, speculation exploded. But an autopsy isn’t an immediate followup, and the online sleuths would lose themselves to their imaginations in the time between. Many people wanted the murder solved, but many let their speculation fly off the rails. Shady hotel coverups. Metal musician murderers. Fear of the homeless. Ghosts. Demons. Government tuberculosis research. The gang was all there.

If you weren’t active online back then, it’s difficult to properly convey how huge this all was. Everyone was expecting Elisa to have been murdered. Iron-clad. Beyond the shadow of a doubt. She wasn’t. Her death was ruled an accident. She had a severe case of bipolar disorder and she wasn’t taking her medication. The severity of her illness was also not previously disclosed to the public. The working theory is that she experienced a manic episode with psychotic features, climbed in the tank in this state, to eventually strip out of her clothes in late stage hypothermia and drown there. It’s a horrific and painful way to die. All that’s left of you is water contamination – insult to fatal injury.

People weren’t happy with this, but not out of any sympathy for Elisa. There was palpable rage from many who had been following the case. No, she was definitely murdered. No, her killer needs to be brought to justice. No, this isn’t the real story. I don’t like it. I’m not satisfied. There needs to be an ending better than this.

Tragedy isn’t exactly in the habit of being kind to us.

When news of Gabby Petito’s disappearance was spreading, I noticed a lot of similarities between hers and Elisa’s. A woman in her early 20s vanishes while traveling, under very unusual circumstances. Footage was released during both investigations, which portrayed these women in mentally vulnerable states. The story was viral online. People rifled through Gabby’s instagram in the same way they did with Elisa’s tumblr. Social media detectives established an inappropriate amount of investment. Everyone is sure of a specific outcome. The family deserves answers.

Let’s talk about answers for a second. I’d like you to spitball a comprehensive explanation for this one: how could something like this happen? I’m not looking for a “how” in terms of events or circumstances. In this case, this isn’t a question. It’s a protest of the unfairness of it all. My daughter. My sister. My friend. Someone who meant so much to me. It’s a prayer to a vacant sky. It’s not a question, it’s agony. Nothing shy of resurrection can feel like justice. Even if the case leads to a criminal trial and conviction, it does nothing to fill the void loss burns within us. There is no good answer, because there aren’t answers at all.

Let’s talk about ourselves for a second. I noticed many people draw parallels between what they’d seen on the bodycam footage and their own experience with abusive partners. “This could have been me.” Do you really think this is appropriate? Could have been, would have been – these are statements with hypothetical validity. It has nothing to do with you. To emotionally identify with someone does not evidence anything. You’re here. She’s gone. This isn’t about you. She isn’t in the position where she can co-sign anything you say. If she can’t speak for herself, don’t invoke her.

Let’s talk about true crime for a second. It’s funny how true crime marketed to men has a distinctly different texture than true crime marketed to women. The former seems to involve knocking the perpetrator down a peg. It portrays them as something worth our disgust and ridicule. The latter tends to foster emotional identification with the victim. Podcasts and other media in this category tend to be by women, for women, and generally discuss women. This story is presented as catharsis for women who see themselves as similar to them. This woman is no longer a person, but an idea. And it makes me think of that stupid article quote that I resent myself for not having bookmarked. This is reconciliation. These women, in their passing, can be a motivating factor for us to break up with that one dumbass guy. I’m so happy this was a wakeup call. I’m so happy that this made me think about my own experiences. I’m so happy that this did so much for me. Sure, someone actually died, but what is that when compared to my own self-actualization?

I made a comment on Twitter about how disgusted I was with how people spoke of Gabby in such an evasively self-interested way, and someone who likely was of no relation to her interjected with how the family deserved the truth. Truth? What truth? What peace will grisly details give them? Is there any meaningful difference between knowing your loved one died of murder or collapsed from exposure? Or are you just a nosey person who’s projected an inappropriate emotional dog in this fight? Do you want answers for her family, or for your own curiosity?

I really don’t trust shit like that, nor am I willing to give leniency to people who say such things. I think we’ve been conditioned to relate to dead women in a way that’s completely separate from who they actually were. Alive, they’re deep, multifaceted individuals, with an array of likes, dislikes, quirks, and endless little details. Dead, they’re a concept to serve a purpose. The purpose is generally a form of narrative catharsis. The creep gets thrown in prison. A woman’s abusive partner gets the comeuppance he deserves. The story needs a good ending. The story needs an ending that satisfies me. People aren’t stories. Life is not a novel.

The real trauma of others will never belong to you. This not your therapy tool or plaything. This is real pain that will never be theoretical for plenty of people. Know your place. Keep your distance. Don’t objectify the dead.

#you know i'm going for the jugular if i bother to punctuate my posts #also do take my warning: it is long

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— I’VE SEEN FIRE, I’VE SEEN RAIN ; PART 2 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1909

SUMMARY: Being laid off isn’t very fun but Bruce tends to find himself even more entangled in your life, including his alter ego—Batman.

A/N: I’m loving this series and if you are, feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading my crappy stuff aka my daydreams <3

WARNINGS: Guns! Death threats! Crying! A mental breakdown!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

James Taylor’s Fire and Rain plays like a funeral hymn on the record player, echoing through your studio apartment. You’re sitting on the ground, back against the ratty couch with a pizza box on your lap. You take a bite of a BBQ Chicken pizza slice, furiously wiping your tears away as you replayed the events from six hours ago. From being called to the principal's office to only be told that you’re one of the non-tenured teachers to be laid off due to cutbacks. Gotham High was...a tough school. The students were mean to you because well, you're young and always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you taught English Literature and frankly, your students didn’t exactly enjoy the subject as much as you wanted them to. Nevertheless, you’re devastated. Teaching was a dream of yours, and it’s being taken away from you. You cried all the way back home, tried to call your mother but it kept going to voicemail. You must have called someone else, but you don’t remember and couldn’t care less to check your phone—the whole day went by like a blur.

Then, there’s a sound. An insistent buzz, it’s the doorbell. You furrow your brows, not recalling ordering anything else other than the large pizza from Domino’s. Yet, it doesn’t cease, and you’re forced to bring yourself to stand on your feet, instinctively flattening your tousled hair to make yourself seem somewhat presentable. Like, you’re doing fine and you have everything completely under control. Maybe, you did call your mother, and she’s at the door. You’re hoping she is although she’s going to kill you for the mess.

Another buzz and you’re toddling across the wooden flooring and towards the doorway. It’s starting to become infuriating by the second, like a house fly don’t won’t stop bugging you. Considering the mood you’re in, it doesn’t take much to tick you off. Swinging the door open, you expected to see the radiant face of your mother but to your surprise, it’s not.

It’s Bruce.

Shit.

You haven’t seen him in two weeks.

You nearly choke at the sight of him in a slightly crumpled oxford blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair as much of a mess as yours and tired eyes staring down at you with concern. You note how Bruce is very charming, no matter how disarrayed he is. Meanwhile, you’re realizing the current state must be a little startling. Your eyes are probably bloodshot, hair still in a tangled mess and glaring tomato stains everywhere on your GCU t-shirt. This is such a low point for you.

“Bruce,” you say, voice raising an octave with wide eyes as you stare at him like he’s grown another head, “What are you doing here?” His frown is immediate, seemingly confused by your question. “You called me.” He gestures to his phone within his grasp. “It sounded bad even though I couldn’t make out what you were saying half of the time,” He chuckles and holds up a familiar looking paper bag “So, I got you bagels. Three of them. Thought you could use some of these.”

It takes a second or two for you to finally process what he just told you before your emotionally wrecked brain decides to do the most irrational thing ever—You just start sobbing. You’re crying so hard that it terrifies Bruce. He blinks, thoughts racing. The sight of you in complete misery strikes him like a punch to his gut and for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do. Not immediately. Yet, through glassy eyes, you manage to notice the way his face dropped and morphed into pure horror. Justification is key, you don’t want to weird him out and think you’re crazy. You wave your hand in the air dismissively, rubbing your eyes as you spoke between strangled sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day and that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me all week.”

Oh.

Your words are a tug to the heartstrings, and it sends his head reeling but relief was all that overwhelmed him. Bruce would never wish to see you hurt, especially when it’s caused by him. Actions of affection were primarily reserved for those closest to him, but he never experienced the urge to be intimate and care so much for a person ever since his parents died. Yet, out of everyone, you’re the one that brings out the most in him. Moving closer to you, he reaches and pulls you in a hesitant embrace. You stiffened at the mere touch of his arms around you, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Sure, you had a fair share of intimate moments with the man but this, this was different. You couldn’t shake the thought of how something so warm felt so right, smelt right. Despite the fact you had been trying to suppress your feelings for Bruce, and this was doing the exact opposite of that, you can’t help but feel this was what you needed at the moment. So, you let your body sag, muscles becoming loose and you let yourself truly cry for the first time.

You end up inviting him in later, when your tears are dry. You eat two of the bagels, sharing the last one with him. You called a peace offering, a gift of appreciation, for the whole emotional massacre you unexpectedly shoved at him. He simply laughs, eyes crinkling with fondness. He thinks you’re beautiful, especially when your hair is wild, laughing like you don’t have a care in the world. It’s what keeps him grounded, to know you’re raw and very real. The next thing you know, you end up shuffling cards of UNO until the wee hours of the morning—exchanging knowing smiles and Bruce trying to pick a Wild Draw card from the deck to get you to lose. But, he lets you win anyway.

He slept on your couch that night, still in his dress shirt. You must've peeked a glance at his sleeping form, squeezed onto the couch that’s clearly too small for him. Cute. You snap a picture before heading to bed. For blackmail purposes, of course.

You end up working a night shift at a burger joint called Big Belly Burger somewhere in midtown. Your first week comes and goes, and you’re starting to hate how your uniform itches and how the restaurant can get really filthy by the end of the day. Yet, it’s the kids from Cameron Kane High that come after school that keeps you going because it makes you miss being a teacher even though they tend to leave a mess after a meal.

Thursday comes and you’re exhausted. Even so, you’re thankful it’s a slow night. You’ve done all your cleaning duties earlier on and Lucie, the manager went out to buy a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store around the corner. Hence, it’s just you, slumped against the counter, devouring a Triple Belly Burger.

You’re half way through the burger when you hear the door swing open. Expecting to see Lucie, you turned around to see two men brandishing handguns your way. “Everything from the register, now!” The taller masked man shouted, gun gesturing to the cash register. Your eyes are wide, and you can feel your chest heaving. There was no way you’ll be able to fight them. Not two of them with guns pointed at you.

The burger drops from your hand and so does your heart. With trembling hands, you slide the drawer of the cash register open and begin pulling out dollar notes. From the corner of your eye, you spot your phone on the counter, close enough for you to make an emergency call. Your eyes scan the two men wearily and with every ounce of courage you had left, you managed to unlock your phone, pulled up the messaging app and texted the first name on the list: Bruce Wayne.

help, was all you managed to say.

To say your luck ran out was an understatement; you were never lucky anyway. One of the robbers must have caught on to what you were doing and just as the call goes through, he snatches your phone away, throws it onto the ground and shoots it.

So close, yet so far.

You don't know if the message got through.

The muzzle is now inches away from your forehead, and you hear the cock of the gun. “Don’t you dare pull somethin’ funny like or I’ll blow your brains out. Give us the money, now.” It was in that moment, your tears give way and your life flashes before your eyes. You pray for a miracle, a savior.

Then, you see him.

A looming figure appears by the doorway and your breath hitches. It’s Batman, looking like a Goddamn angel. The robbers seem to realize this too, guns quickly directed towards the vigilante. He launches batarangs to the pair of men and immediately disarms them. In a flash, he knocks them out, unconscious bodies dropping to the ground like dead flies.

You stare at him in awe although he’s very frightening and intimidating but Batman...just saved you. Now, this is a story you’re going to be telling everybody until the day you die. He approaches you with caution, and you instinctively take a step back. Then, he calls you by your name like it’s second nature. You stare at him with blank amazement, brows raised.

“You know my name?” Your voice dwindled; It’s so soft and timid you hardly hear yourself. Despite the mask, the vigilante looks like his brain just short-circuited for a moment. He clears his throat.

“...Bruce has mentioned you.”

You ignore how his synthetic voice makes every hair on the back of your neck stand and the familiarity that struck for a split second when he said your name because you’re too wrapped up with the fact that Bruce has discussed about you to his other ‘best friend’ as one might call it. Brooding over this lump of a thought, the corner of your mouth twitches. “He did?” you say with a hint of affection. It’s hard to read the man under the mask, whoever he was but you’re certain he looked taken aback by your response. Maybe, it was the way you delivered it—the longing in the very core of the expression. You may have outed your feelings for Bruce to...Batman.

This doesn’t get any stranger than that.

“Yes,” he replies curtly, and you hear the police sirens afar. “Are you hurt?” Like the true caretaker of Gotham, he wants to be sure you haven’t been injured. You shake your head, lips pressed together. The whaling of the police sirens grow louder, lights of red and blue flashing before your eyes. He appears like a shadow against the glaring lights from the police cruisers and before you can blink, he flees with a muttered ‘Goodnight’ and disappears before the police come flooding in and does Lucie. The poor woman looked at with frantic eyes as soon as she glimpsed the two men on the ground, groaning in pain.

The glint of the batarang on the floor captures your attention, you smile at this.

You may or may not have taken it back to your apartment that currently sits proudly on the bookshelf in your living room.

You’re so telling Bruce.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #justice league

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whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago

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The Oncoming Storm Part 5: Peace of Mind

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

I've decided that when I get to a point where the "choice" is made between Liu and Lao, the stories name will change to help avoid confusion. That way you can follow either path or both. Then I will try to update those as much as I can. I know where both are going for the most part. God, I'm such a cock-tease lol.

This bit is a bit shorter than usual but I plan on updating AGAIN tomorrow! Surprise: Kung Lao will be back tomorrow. Side note: should I draw MC? Anyone into that? And as always, open to suggestions and will include any I like.

Part 4 Part 6 Chapter Index

You jumped upright in bed, the breeze from the window making your sweat covered body shiver. Wiping your face, you searched the room and found that you were utterly alone. In your mind’s eyes you could see the writhing of bodies that had woken you.

It had been a dream.

A wildly inappropriate dream.

Hands trembling, you held your head in your hands. Your face was red and hot and when you closed your eyes, you could see Liu Kang’s strong body over yours and feel his familiar hands. You blinked your eyes and kept them open wide. “Oh boy.” You laughed at yourself and then flopped back against the bed with a frustrated whine. It had been miserably difficult not to let your imagination run wild the day before but apparently all your self-control disappeared when you slept. After the day you’d had and the tension that had built like static when you were fighting, how could you be upset with yourself?

You knew Liu Kang well at this point. Well enough that his touch was familiar. It was cruel and unnecessary of your imagination to do that to you during your sleep. How were you supposed to find your arcana when your brain was made of Liu Kang spaghetti? The attractive, confident, and kind Liu Kang was your teacher and you had to find a way to set a boundary between that and whatever this was. “Calm down, Y/N.” With that you took slow and deep breaths.

Adjusting yourself on the bed you crossed your legs and closed your eyes to meditate. But your imagination betrayed you, and you could feel his breath on your neck and hear his voice in your head. Pinching the bridge of your nose you laughed at yourself but flopped again on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

This was a natural thing. To be attracted to someone you were forming a new relationship with. You were finding your footing as friends and the draw between you would change with time. Deep down you were certain it was more than that and you were dismissing a very obvious attraction between them.

No matter what it was, there was no chance you would trust your imagination to let you sleep. You would have to clear your thoughts and find some peace before you could rest again. Getting up, you changed into the red and black flowing hanfu and decided to take a walk. That would get your mind off the day before and erase the memory of Liu’s, well, everything.

There were very few others walking through the temple that late at night. You decided that you hadn’t slept for long before your dream had woken you. Not dwelling on the memory of it, you kept walking until you were utterly lost and honestly nothing had felt quite as good or wondrous in some time. Raiden’s Temple was beautiful and ancient. Exploring it made you feel like a curious child, which in your opinion, was better than a frustrated adult.

There were many sprawling hallways and you felt that this one was particularly high within the ravine. You caught sight of the night sky through an archway and leaned against the stone. A monk walked behind you with a polite bow carrying a heavy pot filled with water. You nodded in greeting and then stepped onto the platform. At the end of the short platform was a huge statue of Raiden, seated cross legged in meditation.

The sky was radiant, and you wished to be closer to it and considered the roof but instead you set your eyes on the hat of the statue. You carefully climbed up with a few skilled jumps and then sat atop the edge of the hat, overlooking the ravine. Below you could see the fight pit, but it appeared small from there.

Seated atop the statues wide brimmed hat, you got comfortable and admired the brilliance of the night sky. The glassy moon filled the night around it with brilliance, dimming the stars in its halo. Wisps of pale clouds traversed the sky as if carried by invisible birds. You could see the milky way and the sparkling of stars that you had never seen before. You couldn’t remember ever thinking that the sky was this magnificent. In those moments you felt lucky to be alive and privileged to see the world in such a way.

It seemed funny then that your home popped into mind. There had been times where you’d sat on the roof of your apartment above the dojo and watched the sky, but it had never felt like this. That life felt so foreign now that you were oddly detached from it. Hopefully, your sister was okay. Your mother had passed away years ago and your father had stayed with your sister while you took care of the dojo in his honor.

Did they think that you died in the fire? What had become of the dojo? Had any of it survived? Did they think you’d done it and murdered those men? Were you a wanted criminal now? Had Kung Lao told anyone what had become of you? You had a thousand questions for your childhood friend, but you weren’t sure that you were ready for the answers either.

“Y/N?” You sat upright and turned in search of the voice. Liu Kang was staring up at the statue curiously. You peeked over the edge and offered him a wave despite your stomach doing a flip at the sight of him. With a confident grace, he leapt atop the statue and joined you. You returned to your spot, sitting comfortably on the hat and he sat next to you. Together you stared into the starry night, admiring the beauty of Raiden’s Temple. Every so often you heard the footsteps of another monk making their way but there was little else besides Liu’s controlled breathing and the occasional shifting of his prayer beads from his hand to his wrist. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You decided to be honest. You weren’t a big fan of lying but telling Liu the absolute truth of your dream was a level of embarrassment and honesty you weren’t prepared for. “My mind and heart were all jumbled up, so I came to find some peace.”

“Did you find the peace you were looking for?”

“I did.” You decided with a smile. What you were feeling toward him wasn’t a bad thing, you’d decided. It was a conflict in your mind still, but not all conflict was bad.

“Seated atop a dangerously tall and ancient statue overlooking the most perilous of pits?”

“The view can’t be beat. And it’s private.”

“And yet I invaded your privacy as I often seem to do.” Liu turned to face you, his arm rested against one knee.

“It’s only an invasion if it’s not welcome, Liu.” You reassured him. Silence fell again but it wasn’t the warm and comforting silence you’d become accustomed to with Liu Kang. He radiated with both fire and uncertainty. “Are you okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He brushed his fingers again over the prayer beads. “I decided I would check on you and as I made my way, I felt that someone was up here.”

“Oh?”

“Your energy is tangible,” he said all while avoiding your eyes. Your eyebrows shot straight up your forehead.

“So, you knew it was me?” The butterflies were back. He was good at that. Liu nodded. “That’s remarkable.” So much for peace of mind. Were you ever going to manage sleep again without your renegade thoughts getting carried away? “I’m glad that you found me.”

“Your energy reminds of a shadow flickering beneath the lamplight. I’m curious. Can you sense my energy, as well?” The confidence had returned to him. There was still something beneath his confident exterior that you couldn’t decipher, and you watched his thumb carefully brush over each of the beads in his hand. “I think it could be common to sense others with a dragon marking.”

“Yes, I can.” You chose your words carefully. “I always thought that your presence was fiery, but I didn’t realize that was literal until earlier.” Liu turned to face the edge of the statue again and his brief smile faded. You adjusted to face him better, careful of your footing. “What’s on your mind, Liu?”

“You were in my dreams.” He seemed sad. Inwardly, you panicked. He’d been in your dreams too, but something about his demeanor made you feel as though it were in a quite different context. How were you supposed to process any of this? “I lost you.”

You made sure not to let the sigh of relief be audible. “You lost me?”

“Not the best phrasing but no less the same. You died.” Liu said this with such finality that it shook you, and a chill ran down your spine. “I couldn’t go back to sleep with that image of you in my head. Selfishly, I needed to see your living and breathing self.”

“Liu…”

“I know that you’re capable, Y/N. I can see why Kung Lao values you so highly. I suppose that it is natural to fear for someone that you’ve bonded with. And we have bonded, haven’t we?” You were at a complete loss for words. He’d said a lot without saying much at all and you were left to interpret it as you would. What terrible timing. Your heart was so confused. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong. We’ve bonded.” You decided then to confess at least part of what was keeping you awake that night. No details, just a small bit of truth. “I dreamt about you too. It woke me up and when I couldn’t find the peace to return to sleep, I wound up here.” You smiled weakly and turned back to face the sky. “I tried to meditate the stress away but in truth I’m used to meditating with you, so it brought me no peace.” Liu seemed oddly relieved by your confession. If only he knew the truth. You weren’t sure how he would react. In fact, your face burned just thinking about it.

“I assure you that I’m capable, Y/N. I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” You said nothing else on the matter. He hadn’t been in danger in your dream, in fact, quite the opposite. You sat in silence again and much to your surprise, he shifted, scooted closer and slipped his arm around you shoulder. His hands were warm even through your sleeves.

“Until you’ve mastered your arcana and healed then you are the one that we should worry about. There’s still time before the tournament, but it doesn’t mean that we will be entirely without danger.” Liu gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “The sooner you can control your arcana, the better.”

“I know that with your help I’ll manage sooner rather than later.”

“That’s a lot of faith in me.”

“In us both.” You smiled at him. He adjusted, arm falling away from your shoulder. You missed it instantly. His arms were warm and strong. “This is a hurdle we will conquer.” You turned to watch the stars again and pulled your knees closer to your chest, resting one arm over them, the other resting between you and Liu. Liu’s eyes were on you. You could feel them watching you rather than the sky. He needed to see that you were okay and that his dream was just that. Whatever came next, you were ready for it. One way or another, you would fight. Still, he did not turn his gaze and you were distracted by him. “You’re staring.” You let your gaze flitter to him out of the corner of your eye.

“You get this look on your face while you’re thinking. It’s fascinating to watch your expression shift and change even minutely.” The fondness of his voice was overwhelming. To be spoken of with such reverence made you feel better than anything ever had. “You feel your emotions very deeply. It is a gift.” He turned his gaze back to the night sky, right arm rested on his knee. His left hand then found yours between them and rested atop it.

You swore you might be blushing for the rest of your days at this rate. The fondness of his voice and the gentleness of his hand made your heart race. You supposed that when you thought about it, you had flirted on and off. At the very least you had grown fond of each other. There’d been plenty of close calls the last few days, but you hadn’t been sure if you were overthinking or not. But this moment was far more transparent. An arm around you. His hand over yours. Deliberate displays of intimacy.

You weren’t sure you could sit still much longer thinking like this, so you turned to ask him if he wished to study. Instead, you clammed up and found him far closer to you than you had anticipated. You could feel his breath, the warmth radiating from his energy, surrounding you like a distant and welcome flame. He admired your face, stopping at each of your features with his dark eyes, and then brushed your hair away. This was an intimacy that you had grown quite fond of but also it was different than before. His fingers left a ghost of a touch against your forehead and your cheek, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. The fear in his eyes had gone, the nerves and uncertainty had gone with them. All that was left to his stare was warmth and admiration.

His hand brushed against your jaw softly and then rested against your cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath your eye. He tilted you closer. Your heart stopped in your chest and you didn’t breathe for fear that it would stop him. It was a moment you never wanted to end. Eyes half-lidded you caught a glance of his lips, parted ever so slightly and nearing yours. Then a horrid crash echoed from behind the statue.

In an instant, you were apart and both sliding to the other side of the statue in search of the sound. Liu leapt from the statue gracefully and you peered over the side, catching your breath. Below you could see a monk there, speaking with Liu. There were pieces of something shattered on the ground. You carefully climbed from the statue to join them.

The monk muttered his apologies. Liu had bent down to clean up the shards of the pot that had been dropped. Water was spread over the stone floor. Your fingers were numb and the action of helping clean up the shattered pot felt surreal. Honestly, the entire night had felt surreal. From waking up from an inappropriate dream, to staring at the stars with Liu. The monk bowed his head and took the shards with him as he made his way to wherever he was meant to. You stood upright and fixed your hair. You could feel that Liu’s eyes were on you again. Even though you were no longer seated close together or even touching, the tension hadn’t faded.

“We should rest.” The fog of the moment had at least cleared, and you knew that if you didn’t go to bed now then you’d likely wind up doing something irresponsible with Liu Kang. Why were you resisting this obvious tug? It seemed oddly taboo, though you couldn’t place your finger on the reasons why. You were both consenting adults, so why shouldn’t you embrace this? Oddly enough, you felt guilty even at the thought.

These emotions were far too complex for the middle of the night.

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Thank you, Liu.” Together you walked through the hall of the temple and you were suddenly grateful to have him guiding you. You’d wandered so far and so aimlessly that you had no idea where you’d wound up. It would have taken you ages to find your way back. You opened the door to your room and leaned against it with a smile. “Try and get some rest, will you?”

“You too, Y/N.” He peered behind you into the room, and you followed his gaze to where the book laid on your desk.

“…did you want to read?” You were sure sleep wouldn’t come easily and Liu seemed reluctant to leave. You were reluctant to let him go.

“Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Liu didn’t ask twice and so you opened the door the rest of the way and allowed him inside with you. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, and Liu picked up the book and joined you at your side. His familiar voice was like a lullaby and only a few minutes past before you were drifting in and out of sleep with your head on his shoulder. If Liu noticed, he didn’t say anything or move you. He kept reading. Before you knew it, you were out cold.

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pedropascalssimp · 4 years ago

Text

Grumpy

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: boba is a grumpy man but we love him... Also for a real summary: the reader is annoying, always talking and being a goofy person. And boba only tolerates it because he loves her.

Warnings: slight language I think? Slight jealous boba, he's also a bit insecure in this one. Fluff, FLUFF.

Pic credit to @xxrosaaa29xx I'm using your pic for scientific research purposes 👀

Also dala means "woman" in mando'a incase whoever reads this didn't know and found themselves in confusion like I do most times....

I know I also said I'd write for din more but, c'mon! My bestest friend ever here inspired me to write this!

Thank you my amazingly beautiful friend @friendscall-me-mom this was spurred on because you 👀

Boba was a busy man, he couldn't seem to hold still for more then two minutes. He always had something keeping him busy or somewhere to be, but that's the way he liked it. So ever since boba claimed the throne that once belonged to jabba the hut and later jabba's companion Bib Fortuna, boba found himself almost never leaving the palace, it was relaxing yes, a nice relaxing thing actually, but also a little too... Uneventful for his liking. So after leaving Fennec in charge over the palace, someone he knew he could trust, he brought you along with him to venture away from tatooine to accompany him on his first bounty hunt in almost six years.

When he had gruffly asked you to join him, it left you baffled. You thought he'd enjoy a nice time away from you considering he always spoke of how annoying you are, he always ignores you are tries putting a distance between the two of you. In your eye's he hated you, his actions displaying such. But in all honesty? Boba fett found himself attracted to you, his brown eyes always glued to you when you walked into the room, gaze unable to leave your figure for a second. His heart always doing the annoying flip it does whenever he hears your laugh or catches a glimpse of that beautiful smile adorning your face.

He pushed you away because he didn't know how to love you like you deserved, you was always so... Happy, bubbly personality and jokes putting a smile on everyone's face. He was afraid that if he let you love him, his usual grumpy and hardened personality would dent your chirpy one. So... He pushed you away.

But you didn't ever see the adoring looks he gave you, or the faint tug of his lips when you told a joke. All of those things went unnoticed by you, partly because the helmet he wore and the fact he always hid his emotions well. Something you found infuriating. But despite that, and his constant grumpy behavior towards you, you found yourself intrigued by the man, you couldn’t deny he was a handsome man. Dark eye's that seemed to sparkle whenever the light hit them just right. And although his words was always short, sometimes even harsh on the more stressful days for him, you found yourself hanging on to every word he spoke, his voice intoxicating, beautiful. You scolded yourself many times for falling in love with boba fett, but then again how could you not have? When he showed you rare moments of kindness - especially when you had both met on tython, you having permission from your friend din to stay with boba. Because din saw how you looked at boba, he knew you was in love with him.

But damn was boba oblivious, or either he knew you was smitten with him and just hid it well. Whatever the case, you was slightly hurt by the fact he always found a way to either distance himself from you are push you away.

Slave I was quite, boba sitting in the co-pilot seat while you let your mind roam freely to dwelling thoughts. But you let out a little laugh, the sound drawing boba's attention as he tilts his helmet in your direction.

"what's funny dala?" he asked, speaking mando'a, a nickname you've learnt well. He often enjoyed using it in a mocking manner though, it usually rolled off his tongue whenever he was annoyed or like said, mocking someone, aka, you.

You shrug, a grin on your lips. The reason you was amused though, was today's previous events played on your mind. You and boba had both stopped by a cantina on Batuu, only stopping their for fual and a bite to eat. Because you wouldn't shut up until boba finally gave in and took you somewhere to eat. And as you was both enjoying a meal, boba choosing a nice empty booth in the dark corner as he took his helmet off. A man had been flirting with you, it was harmless really, a few compliments on your beauty and a few hints of how the man genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Although he seemed nice you didn't really want to speak with him, so let him down easy.

But boba was, for some odd reason to you, pissed off with the man's constant talking. He didn't like how his eyes roamed your body, didn't like how you indulged him, and he really didn't like how he talked to you, using those flirty little comments and jokes, coaxing a laugh or two from you. Boba hated it, he was fuming. So without hesitation, boba threatened the poor man's life with a cold hard stare causing the man to flee the whole planet with fright.

Although you was slightly mad at boba in the moment, you found it hilarious now. Letting out another laugh you try and cover your mouth, stifling the laugh. "what is it?" he seemed genuinely curious but his words came out bitter.

"you scared that poor man to death boba... He literally left Batuu because of one simple glare and a few threats!" you laughed, grabbing your side because of how hard you was laughing now. "di - did you see his face!" you wheeze out through laughter, "he almost pissed his pants!" you shake your head and your laughter dies down.

Boba, unknowingly to you, had a smile on his face, Almost prideful. He focuses his attention on you now, loving the sight of your wide smile now. He had thought he angered you with how he scared the man off, he thought you was actually attracted to the other man. But seeing you laughing about the situation put him at ease, you wasn't mad at him.

"I thought he was bothering you, he was surely bothering me with his jabbering" boba tried to brush the topic off. He felt slightly annoyed he was jealous over the fact the man had made you smile and laugh. And the man was younger, his face not as scarred or aged as boba's. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a little insecure when around you, why would you want him when the galaxy had so much more out there for you?

"oh he wasn't jabbering, he was being nice... But you scared him enough to flee the planet" you giggle, amused by the situation.

He only grunts in response, one of many signs he was in a grumby mood. You flicker your eyes down at his side, the side his beskar failed to cover.... Grinning you reach over and poke him.

"stop being grumpy" you muttered playfully, his visor snapping in your direction before falling down to look at where you kept your hand, ready to puke him again.

"I'm not grumpy princess" he harshly grunts out while taking your hand in his and throwing your hand back into your lap. "don't touch me..." he muttered. He may have came off as angry, but under the helmet he was flustered, your touch sending a delightful warmth spreading all over him, turning his face red.

Your smile filters for a moment, thinking you may have infuriated him. The sight makes him guilty until he sees you grin again. "you have to be ticklish, everyone is. I'm now making it my goal to find you're ticklish spot!" you declare cheerfully. Boba shaking his head.

"I'm not ticklish. let me be dala" he spoke while putting the ship on autopilot as he went into hyperspace. Standing up he leaves the cockpit, you following him. He walks into the cargo area, plopping down on a crate as he takes his helmet off, usual stoic expression on his face as he cleans his helmet off. A act he does out of boredom you've grown to discover.

"not ticklish eh? So you won't mind..." you sit beside him making him go stiff visibly, his hand freezing as he wiped the visor off. "this!" you slither your hand on the spot between his neck and shoulder and start tickling, but he does even smile, much to your dismay.

"please stop" he deadpanned. And you do so with a huff. "I'm not ticklish so stop" he continued wiping his helmet off.

You sigh deeply and cross your arms. "I've never seen you smile nor laugh, If I can't find you're ticklish spot then I'll tell you joke's!" you state, his face slowly morphs into one of annoyance.

"please don't... I left tatooine for two reasons: peace and to be able stretch my legs for a bit" he said while looking up at you, his dark eye's capturing you for a bit.

"then why did you invite me to join you? You know I annoy you with my presence" you say, arms crossed.

He invited you because he knew how men eyed you on tatooine with hunger, with a undeniable look of lust. He hated it, wanted to rip all their eyes out for doing so. He knew that if he left any man could waltz up to you and flirt their way into your heart. So he brought you with him because he'd be damned if he left you on tatooine, he never wanted to leave your side.

"because I knew that if I didn't you wouldn't shut up, I've heard how you wanted to leave the place for a little vacation as you put it and I had already planned on hunting so... I invited you" he muttered, blowing on the visor to ensure its clean before sitting it aside, now cleaning his blaster. It wasn't a lie, he heard you telling Fennec how you wished to escape the sands and scorching hot heat for at least a little bit.

Your heart swells at his words, to anyone it was nothing. to you... It was his way of showing affection. He knew you wanted a vacation so he took you with him, if you didn't know any better you'd say he even planned this hunt because that. But that was wishful thinking.

"did I ever I tell you the story of how Mando got zapped by those jawa's?" you snicker, knowing that would at least make him smile. But he nods, confirming you have.

"more then once mesh'la" he didn't mean to let that one simple word slip from his mouth, but it did, and from the beaming smile and small blush on your cheeks, he knew you knew what it meant.

"oh you think I'm beautiful now?" you tease, seeing the way he tensed up whenever the word rolled off his tongue, you knew that you turning it into playful banter would ease away whatever it was that made him tense like that.

"shut up girl" he grumbled while standing up, you doing so making him huff. "don't follow me around like a damn lost child!" he snaps, taking you aback slightly. But you shrug his words off, although they did hit pretty hard.

He saw that and grumbled something before continuing whatever it was he was doing. "what if I don't wanna stop!" you say with a giggle, following him to the poor excuse for a bed he used.

"then I guess I'm gonna have to face the fact you're goal and life purpose is to annoy me" he said, sitting on the bed, slowly stripping the beskar off piece by piece. You could only watch as his soft shirt he wore under it exposed the softness of him, his tummy practically begging for you to reach out and tickle it -

You grin at the thought his tummy would be ticklish, it was a mischievous glint in your eye that alarmed him. "oh no" he muttered as you grin at him and flop down beside him on his bed.

"admit it boba, you enjoy my company" you sigh with a big smile, his scoff only making you giggle. He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he wanted to say was forgotten the moment you tickle his belly, soft and adorable like you always thought it would be.

His eye's widen as he finds himself laughing, a smile on his face. He falls backwards on the bed as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you continue tickling his belly as your heart flutters at the sight of his smile and sound of his gruff laughter.

"you do have a ticklish spot!" you laugh, his large hands resting on your hips as he flips you over, now he was hovering over you.

"you are relentless" he mused, his smile now gone and replaced back with his grumpy expression. "don't ever do that again mesh'la" he grumbled. But he couldn't deny how being so Close to you makes his desire to kiss you grow strong. Once he catches

"oh Stop being grumpy, it’s lame." you tease him, cheeky smile. He shakes his with a huff.

"You're an idiot" he retorts while rolling off of you, much to your dismay. He sits up and back in the position he was once in. You sit up beside him.

"but you love me" you said it before you could register what exactly fell off your tongue. Boba seemed to freeze beside you, making fear settle deep within your very core. "I - I didn't mean - like -

Your stuttering was shushed by the smile boba gave you, it was soft, didn't quite reach his eye's but it was still genuine. "unfortunately dala I do..." he didn't look you in the eye, instead, his cheeks starting to turn a little pink as he fiddle with a piece of his armor he picked up off the floor, he didn't want to see you possibly reject him, he didn't want to see your face when you laugh at him for confessing such a thing.

But maker was he surprised when you scooted closer and gently cup his cheek making him look at you, the genuine soft smile on your face different from the cheeky ones or mischievous ones you'd always offer the bounty hunter.

"do you mean it?" you ask him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes search his dark brown ones for the answer, and you saw it, swimming amongst the endless brown hues of his eyes. A truthful, raw emotion besides being angry he showed you, displaying it before your very eyes. Love, adoration, truth....

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you, although I'll have to admit I thought you and you're mandalorian friend was already a couple. That's why I hesitated to talk to you so much" boba confessed, a smile beaming on your face as your eyes glow with joy. Your thumb subconsciously stroking one of many scars on his face.

"likewise, I've never seen someone quite as handsome as you before, nor as intriguing" his snort of amusement made you give him a confused look, wondering what he found funny.

"oh so you find me intriguing?" he smugly replied causing you to roll your eye's. Your free hand that wasn't holding his face, fell to his soft tummy. He tenses up and gives you a warning look. "don't" he muttered.

But you only grin at him, "why not? If you want to laugh at me I'll give you something to laugh at" you slip a hand up his shirt, his warm skin soft. Your touch had his heart doing a flip, if not for the fact he knew you planned on tickling him, he'd find this soothing.

"I wasn't laughing, just simply asking a question"

"after you let out a little laugh" you point out, he shakes his head ready to protest, but you had already begun your assault, tickling his belly. Practically in his lap again as he fell back.

You both knew that if he really wanted, he could stop you easily. But hearing his thunderous laugh echo across the ship and seeing his beautiful smile? It made you beam with happiness, a sight boba couldn't get enough of.

Needless to say, after the hunt you and boba has shared a kiss, slept in his arms every night as he claimed you as his. When you both arrived back on tatooine and into the palace you called home, Fennec had seen how boba had became extra protective over you, seeing how he couldn't seem to leave your side. She knew the hunt brought you both together, it was a relief, now she didn't have to see you both dance around your feelings for each other.

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#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #baby yoda #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #boba fett x y/n #boba fett imagine #boba fett x reader #boba fett

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wy-van-sunshine · 3 years ago

Text

modern Wesper high school

Wylan

The red-haired boy opened his locker pretty annoyed, slamming the door against the metal: it was the end of the school year and, just as usual, it was time to prepare for the school prom, probably the most important event to students.

Wylan hated it from the deepest of his heart: he had never been popular and no one had ever asked him to go together. What he hated even more was to see all the happy couples around him and some guys who found the courage to ask their love interest out.

Why had none of that ever happened to him in four years? Yes, he was openly gay and he was a little bit shy, but he wasn’t that bad after all, was he? He knew in his school there were other guys interested in men like he was, so why was he never considered a choice?

With his cheeks red with anger, he threw some books in his locker to put an end to that day and go home already; before closing the door, though, he saw a paper falling down from it: before he could catch it, a girl (whom he hated from the deepest of his heart) next to him took it and opened it: “Hey sunshine, want to go to the prom with me?” She looked at him raising her brows, a stupid smile curving her mouth “Oooh, Van Eck has a date! I wonder who could make such a poor choice”

Wylan rolled his eyes and took the note from that hideous bitch who never gave him a break. When she finally walked away, he focused on those words he couldn’t really read and his eyes suddenly widened: wait, had he just been asked out? Him?

Wylan was incredulous: that couldn’t be true, there had to be some kind of mistake. Wrong locker, maybe? He’d never been called “sunshine” before, so that message was definitely not for him.

He raised his gaze and scanned the hallway, looking for someone staring at him, maybe waiting for his reaction: but the only eyes he met were those of the captain of the football team, and he definitely couldn’t be his secret admirer.

Jesper

What he did was crazy and rushed, but that was just Jesper: everything he did was instinct. He carried the football team on his shoulders and all a good captain could do was to always trust his heart, no matter what.

He had spotted a beautiful mess of red curls during his first science class at the beginning of the year, and he’d been obsessed with that smart guy ever since: he didn’t talk much, but when he answered to the professor everything about the way he talked was hypnothic to Jesper - his soft, shaky tone, all those difficult scientific words, everything.

Even though Jesper was very friendly with everyone, he had never found the right moment to approach that curious boy: he was always alone, but every time he looked so focused on his drawings, lost in his thoughts, and Jesper just didn’t feel allowed to enter his world.

But he had to put an end to it: after talking to his dearest friend Inej about his matters of heart, the girl had suggested that he ask the red-haired guy out at the prom. He’d liked the idea.

He didn’t know his name - damn his lack of any focus during the science lessons, no wonder he had terrible grades - so he decided to call him by the spontaneous nickname he’d found after the first week: sunshine, because that guy with his curls and his smile shone like no one else.

He was now looking at him from the distance, curious to see his reaction to his note: when their eyes met, Jesper noticed the guy’s cheeks were much pinker and he chuckled, in complete awe for such softness.

Inej next to him smiled and punched him on the shoulder: “Looking flirty already?”

Jesper did nothning but laugh, keeping his focus on the handsome boy across the hall.

Wylan

All his surprise for the note disappeared when he saw the captain and his friend laugh while looking at him: suddenly, Wylan felt so stupid.

Of course no one wanted to go out with him, had he really believed any of that were true?

He lowered his gaze and only then did he remember he was wearing a green jumper: oh God, not only did he feel stupid, he was actually looking stupid. He remembered his father’s words every time he wore that colour: “Green with your red hair? You’re going to look like a Christmas elf. What’s next, a bell bracelet?”

No wonder the captain and his friend were laughing at him, now: they’d tricked him with a fake love note and they’d found him with that ridiculous outfit. He wouldn’t be surprised if they even knew he couldn’t actually read.

The joke turned out even better than expected.

Wylan felt tears filling his eyes and, before he could do anything about it, they were falling down on his cheeks. He had only a few seconds to see the captain’s expression change before he turned and ran away, far from all that shit he couldn’t take anymore.

Jesper

What had happened?

Jesper was standing petrified, all his excitement gone. He was confused and also a little bit crushed because he’d never seen tears wet that beautiful face before.

“I don’t understand” he whispered, turning to Inej to look for some answers.

“I don’t know what happened” said the girl, perplexed just the same “But I do feel like this is a good moment for you to be there for him. You say he’s always alone, and I don’t know who wants to be alone while crying”

Jesper nodded and gave Inej a rapid kiss on the cheek before leaving her in order to follow the red curls running away from him. It wasn’t hard, after all he was an athlete, so he could easily keep the guy’s pace. He followed him until he entered the music room: Jesper took a few moments to be surprised about it, but then he approached the door to join him and hopefully talk to him.

He found him seated at the piano, playing a furious yet wonderful melody on the keys.

Narrator

Wylan could express his feelings mostly through music, so that was the first thing he looked for after the pain he’d felt that day: he was liberating his frustration, telling his secrets to the only one who would listen.

He felt observed, but he didn’t care: whoever was annoyed by how loud he was playing could make peace with it already, he wasn’t going to stop.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt”

Wylan froze: he knew that voice. He’d watched some games at his school and the captain’s voice was always the loudest, the clearest.

Why had he followed him? Wasn’t he happy enough with how he had made fun of him?

“Leave me alone” whispered Wylan, his voice still rough “Please”

Jesper cleared his throat and stepped forward: “I’d like to sit next to you, actually. May I?”

“You may not”

The captain chuckled: “Um... okay, I’ll stand here then. I’m Jesper Fahey, nice to meet you”

The red-haired guy sighed: “What do you want? You’ve already humiliated me beyond imagination, what else do you need?”

Jesper opened his mouth, schocked and speechless: he had humiliated him? How was it possible? He hadn’t done literally anything apart from writing him a note that was everything but humiliating. What was the redhead talking about?

“I... what?”

Wylan laughed, tears filling his eyes again: “Oh please, please don’t play fool with me. Asking the poor loser out fot the prom? Very funny, yes, I’m sure you had a heartfelt laugh with your friends”

Jesper tried to reply, but Wylan went on, his cheeks newly red and wet: “You know, I knew I was stupid, but not as much as to believe someone like you could actually be interested in me. Stupid Wylan, you idiot. Father’s so right about you, you’re such a delusion”

“Hey-”

“And you also found me wearing this stupid green jumper and- you know what, I’m taking this off. I’m already a loser to you, so what changes?”

Jesper put a hand on Wylan’s arm and stopped him, trying to look at him in the eyes.

“Wylan - did I understand right? - Wylan, stop for a second. What the hell are you talking about? And why shouldn’t you wear that jumper? I...” the captain laughed nervously “I am honestly so confused, but please listen to me”

The redhead froze at the sudden warmth of the captain’s hand on his arm: he dried his cheeks with his sleeve and sighed: “Just be fast, I really can’t do this today”

The captain cleared his throat: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding” he smiled at Wylan “I really want to go to the prom with you”

Wylan’s eyes widened, his breath catched: was he serious?

“Is that so?”

Jesper laughed: “I’ve already asked you twice in less than an hour, what do you want, a formal request?”

“I...” the redhead was speechless, his mind was starting to ache trying to understand how any of that were possible. He was probably dreaming.

The captain pointed his hand to the free space next to Wylan: “While you take this life-changing decision, may I sit?”

Wylan gave him the faintest smile: “Yeah”

The captain sat and the redhead held his breath for some seconds: Jesper’s arm was muscled and strong against his thin one, his profile looked like a sculpture, his lips were the most perfect shape he’d ever seen, his skin was a beautiful light brown similar to that cappuccino he loved so much. When Wylan found the ability to breath again, the captain’s fresh scent made him drunk.

He was going to lose his mind, so he made his eyes look away before he did anything stupid.

Jesper felt Wylan’s tension through his arm against his, so he placed a hand on the piano and played a random key: “I’ve always been astonished by the power of this instrument, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand how to play it” he turned his head to Wylan “You were playing beautifully, I would’ve listened to you for hours”

Wylan shrugged: “It wasn’t a great performance, I was just letting some bad feelings out. I can do better. Besides, that’s not even my main instrument”

“Oh?” now Jesper was surprised: just how great could this guy’s talents be?

The redhead smiled and scrolled his head: “No, I play the flute. But here at school I can only use the piano, hygienic stuff, you know. I... I really needed to play some music just to feel better”

Jesper nodded: “Did you feel bad because of the note I left in your locker?”

“Well...” Wylan sighed “Kind of. It’s not your fault, though: at first I was surprised, then I saw you and you friend laugh and I panicked. I thought it was all just a mockery”

“Why would you think that?” asked the captain raising a brow.

Wylan laughed: “Are you kidding? You’re, like, the most popular person in the entire school, how could I believe you were actually asking me out?”

He wasn’t going to mention his dyslexia too. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. Besides, he was starting to think Jesper didn’t actually know about it.

“Well, for starters I should inform you that you’re very cute and that you shouldn’t blush for me saying that” Jesper restrained a smile looking at those pale cheeks get the darkest shade of red “And you should also know that Inej and I were laughing because we were so excited to see your reaction. I’ve had you stuck in my head for a while now, you know”

“You... you have?” Wylan could simply not believe it. There wasn’t any logic in any of that.

Yet, it was happening.

“Yeah”

“So... so is everything true? You really want to go out with me, of all guys?”

“Oh Christ, you’re a tough one, aren’t you?” asked Jesper rolling his eyes. He stood up, just to get down on one knee and take Wylan’s hands in his “Please, Wylan, for the last time, will you go to this godforsaken prom with me?”

The redhead laughed, incredulous, but at the same time trusting towards that handsome guy kneeling if front of him: “I think I will”

“Oh my- can’t you just say yes, for my heart’s sake?”

“Okay, yes! Yes I will!” conceded Wylan, now laughing so hard he couldn’t even remember he’d been crying just a few minutes before.

“Thank God. This was the toughest task of my life so far”

Jesper sat back next to Wylan, smiling and feeling wonderfully. The redhead looked at him for a while, then cleared his throat: “Would you mind if I...” he hesitated, unsure if he could already go that far.

“If you what?”

Wylan lowered his eyes and whispered: “... if I hugged you?”

Jesper smiled as he whispered back a faint “come here”, circling Wylan’s shoulders with his arm, pulling him towards his body and placing his other hand between his incredibly soft curls. They both closed their eyes, feeling well, in the right place.

“By the way” whispered Jesper, not moving the tiniest inch from their hug “I have no idea why you talked about your jumper, but for the record I think green looks wonderful on you”

Wylan smiled against the captain’s chest: “You do?”

“Yes. It makes your eyes and your hair look even more beautiful. As a matter of fact, you should wear green more often”

In response, Wylan held tighter to Jesper’s body: “I will, then”

#wesper #wesper fanfic #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

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