#like no wonder no one recognizes Link
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peachssodapop · 1 year ago
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can you imagine being from one of the non Hylian/Sheikah races in botw precalamity, and like the Hylian royal family announces they've found their hero. Then the king, an absolute brick shithouse of a man presents to you the tiniest hylian you've ever met
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago
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I feel like Khachaturian is such an underrated composer :<
Everyone should listen to Gayaneh >:(
#though i think most people would prob recognize sabre dance and Masquerade#but i absolutely love Gayaneh in its full form its soooooo good#and i cant recommend it to anyone UGH#like 'hey you should listen to this ballet! how long you ask? uhhhh 2½ hours.....'#though ive probably listened through the whole thing at least 10 times#ITS MY FAVVVVVVV ITS SO GOOD!!!#but i listened to it when i was reading a book. like literally only listened to this one ballet while reading it#so now whenever i listen to it i can still only think 'huh this has the essence of [novel]'#i love when music gets permanently linked in your brain with something else#so then it just has the pure essence of whatever its linked to#like i literally feel like im in the universe of that book every time i listen to Gayaneh#though its hilarious bcs the book in question is Chinese but i cant help but imagine the charas in traditional Armenian clothes instead 😭#i sent the ballet to my chinese friend and im like DOESNT THIS REMIND YOU OF [novel]#and shes like bruh of course not 😭#some fanart i have of a different chinese novel was drawn in a more slavic folk style#so thats now how i imagine this one book in my head#SORRY SUPER RANDOM TANGENT#anyways i love slavic classical composers by far the most absolutely nothing can beat them imo#but anyways listen to Gayaneh. the 2 hours are worth it i swear!!#im listening to Masquerade while i make gifs so i wonder if Jense and Mark will now have this essence#catie.rambling.txt
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saucingitup · 5 months ago
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Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long
June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.
Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.
The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.
From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.
And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.
Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.
I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.
People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.
They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.
This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!
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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago
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hi! i was wondering if i could request a spencer x fem kindergarten teacher! reader who has to be interviewed by the team when something happens to one of her students (they find him) and spencer sees her and is just like in love immediately. thank you so so much!
kindergarten crush | S.R.
when one of your students goes missing, the BAU sends the A-team to ask you some questions
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to child abuse/endangerment but nothing detailed, kindergarten teacher!reader, spencer is smitten, emily is such an older sister, average cm case stuff word count: 1.86k a/n: ugh if you know how much i love teachers then you know how much i loved writing this!!!! tysm for requesting!
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“Don’t teachers leave school when it ends?” Emily asked, following the secretary through the elementary school hallways.
The secretary glanced behind her to make sure Spencer was still following, “Contract hours end at four in the afternoon, which is about twenty minutes after the last bell,” she responded. “Some teachers are in charge of after-school clubs or they’ll stay to grade or plan for the next day, but the rest head home at the end of the day,” she continued.
Emily nodded in understanding, “And when does Ms. Y/L/N usually leave for the day?”
For a moment, the secretary’s resigned expression faltered to one of concern, “Once all of her students leave for the day.”
“Is that usually at a different time every day?” Spencer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they turned another corner, the walls were coated in colorful flowers with the names of what he could only assume were the kindergarteners scrawled on them.
There was nothing but a sigh from the secretary as she considered her answers, “That might just be a better question for you to ask her.” She continued leading the way until she stopped in front of a door that was being held open by a doorstop, knocking on the door, she peeked her head in, “Y/N?”
From where he was standing, Spencer could see your head peek out from beneath a desk, but once you recognized that you had unexpected guests, you stood up straight, “Oh, hi,” you greeted, hastily walking around the clusters of tables as you made your way to the door.
“Y/N Y/L/N?” Emily asked, pulling her credentials out when you confirmed your name, Spencer followed suit, “We’re Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid with the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit, do you have the time to answer a few questions about a case we’re working on?”
The bright smile that had initially been on your face quickly fell as you eyed the FBI credentials in front of you, “Oh, Cody,” you murmured. Stepping to the side, you gave the two federal agents space to enter your classroom.
Prentiss thanked the secretary before stepping into your space, “Oh, it’s colorful in here,” she said.
“It’s a kindergarten classroom,” Spencer responded quickly, “Studies show that there’s a link between bright colors and brain development, so these colors are probably conducive to a productive learning environment.”
He went over to the side of your classroom, watching you as you nervously wrapped your arms around yourself, “Thank you?” You said quizzically, not sure if you should take what he was saying as a compliment, “You are here about Cody, right? Cody Jenkins?”
Spencer nodded, “We are, you knew immediately, though.”
You moved your hand to cover your heart as if it was racing, “I was worried when he wasn’t here yesterday, but I knew when I didn’t see him today that something was wrong.” Your eyes flickered between Emily and himself, waiting for either one of them to say something, “Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Why were you so worried when Cody didn’t come to school for two days?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side, raven black hair catching in the fluorescent school lighting.
Sitting down at your desk, you sighed, “Cody loves school. He’d never miss a day unless it was absolutely necessary – I’m the one who brought the first concern to the administration that there might be problems at home, but…”
Raising her dark eyebrows in curiosity, Emily shared a look with Spencer, “But what?”
Watching you, Spencer noticed the way you nervously fiddled with a beaded bracelet on your wrist, although he couldn’t quite make out what the lettered beads spelled, he was able to deduce that the bracelet was important to you. “What’s on your bracelet?” He asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, he craned his head to try and read it on his own.
“Oh,” you said, looking down at the bracelet as if you needed reassurance that it was still there, “A student made it for me a long time ago. When I was still a student teacher,” you looked at the beaded creation fondly, “The mascot was the dolphins, so it just says ‘dolphin’. Spelled with an F, of course, because she was four.”
Once he knew what the bracelet said, he was able to make out the words, even noting the dolphin charm at the end of the word, “You care a lot about your students,” he said, stating the obvious, but the words seemed to put you at ease. “What do you know about Cody’s home life?”
Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Spencer and he tried to make himself seem as friendly as possible. “I know his parents have had some trouble – his dad has a bad history, as I’m sure you know, but his mom is a good person,” you said, reaching your hand up and scratching the back of your neck.
“But she never left Cody’s father,” Emily said questioningly, seeking confirmation more than anything else.
Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrugged, “I’ve never been in that situation before, I don’t get to speak on the difficulty of leaving, but I can tell you that she’s a good person – she loves her son.”
“You care a lot about your students,” Spencer noted aloud, he looked around at the clusters of tables – each table was stocked with the same supplies. You even had a snack station at the back of your classroom.
Quickly, you nodded, “I don’t believe in kids getting a lesser education just because they don’t have the money or the support system at home. I do what I can,” you admitted. “Do you… do you think Cody’s dad did something to him?”
Sadly, Emily affirmed your question, “He’s a person of interest in the case.”
Pressing your lips in a thin, white line, you slouched back into your office chair, “Sometimes I wonder if there’s more to do. The state requires me to teach these kids about stranger danger, but last year a majority of AMBER Alerts that went out were for family abduction.”
“I’m sorry that you know that, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer told you.
You brushed off his apology, “For eight hours a day, five days a week, it’s my job to keep these kids safe – even if that means knowing things that I don’t like.”
Both Spencer and Emily accepted this, and they continued to ask you a few questions about what you knew about Cody. From your point of view, he was just a kid trapped in a bad situation, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it ever hurt you to send him home at the end of the day.
As the two of them left the elementary school, he shook his head in disbelief, “She made three reports on the father, and none of them were taken seriously by the school.”
“I know, Reid,” Emily commiserated, “So, the teacher?”
Her question came when the two of them piled into the SUV, giving her a bewildered look, Spencer furrowed his brows, “What about her?”
Emily scoffed, “’You care so much about your students,’” She said in a mocking voice, taking one hand off the wheel and placing it on her chest, “’Oh, I’m so sorry that you have to know that information’. What was that about the colors in her classroom?”
Rolling his eyes, Spencer sat back in the passenger seat, “Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that. Second of all, I was building rapport – you should try it sometime.”
She chuckled from the driver’s seat, tossing a piece of paper in his general direction before placing her hands near the bottom of the steering wheel, “Here, this is for you.”
“What is it?” He asked as he took the paper and unfolded it.
Humming, Emily didn’t even look as she responded, “I wrote down her room number for you, so you can go ask her out once this case is over.”
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Your door was closed when he got there and he wasn’t quite sure if he should knock or just give up. It wasn’t a far drive to get to your school from Quantico, and if he could ever work up the courage to make the drive again, he could always try then.
Lifting his hand to knock, he hesitated again, opening his palm and letting his hand drop to his side. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, taking the sticky note that Emily had ‘gifted’ him and triple-checking the room number as if his memory and your name on the door weren’t enough confirmation.
Giving up, he turned around, stuffing the paper in his pocket as he did so, and almost running into you in the process, “Oh!” You said, stumbling back and taking a moment to reorient yourself before meeting his eyes. “Oh,” you repeated, softer this time, “Dr. Reid, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Spencer,” he corrected and immediately cringed. “I mean, I’m not here in any professional capacity, so… you can just call me Spencer.”
Flashing him a bright smile, you grinned in response, “It’s nice to see you again, Spencer.” You proceeded to tell him he could call you by your first name before inviting him into your classroom.
Looking around the room, the colors of the space once again made him feel welcome, “You’re here late,” he observed, looking up at the clock and noticing that it had passed your contract hours while he stood outside your door.
You nodded, “It’s the first of the month tomorrow, so I need to switch over my calendars and everything.” You went to pick up a dry-erase marker from the whiteboard, “Um, have you… did you find Cody?”
“Yes,” he responded immediately, remembering the excuse he had given the team when he told them he was going back to visit you. Morgan and Emily weren’t likely to let him forget. “He’s safe, and it looks like he’ll be able to stay with his mom,” he informed you, relishing the way his words put you at ease.
Any remaining stiffness in your stature faded, and the weight of your missing student was officially off of your shoulders. “Thank you – and thank you for coming back to let me know,” you said, putting your hands behind your back, the two of you seemingly at an impasse.
Taking a deep breath Spencer braced himself, “I actually didn’t come back for that. No, I mean, I did. I wanted to let you know that Cody was safe because you were worried and he’s a kid so obviously that was something that I thought you deserved to know since-“
“Spencer?” You said quizzically, smiling at him as he rambled on about your previously missing student, “What else was there?”
His eyes widened as you smiled at him, “Would you want to go out? With me?”
Your smile dropped from your face, and he began to emotionally prepare himself to lay face down on his couch tonight, but what you said next surprised him, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
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ybklix · 6 months ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲
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dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg
★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader
✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol
word count: 5.1k
(masterlist)
♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡
a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!
There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”
You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.
There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.
Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.
They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.
A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.
So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.
You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.
“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”
Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.
You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.
“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.
The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.
But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.
“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.
You nodded, confused, he went on to say:
“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.
You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.
You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.
All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.
Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.
Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.
But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.
You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.
You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.
You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.
“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.
You saw them, they looked totally lost.
“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.
“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.
You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.
Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.
He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.
The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.
But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.
You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.
“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”
“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”
Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.
“After party, with who?”
The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.
“Well, who are you working for.”
Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.
You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”
“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.
“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.
“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.
“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.
You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.
You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.
“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.
It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.
You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.
You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.
Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.
After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.
“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.
You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.
Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.
What was going on?
Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.
So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.
Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.
“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”
Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.
“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.
“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”
Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.
You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.
He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.
“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.
He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.
Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.
He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.
“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.
This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.”
He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.
Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.
Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.
You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.
He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.
So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.
“Use your pretty mouth.”
You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.
Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.
“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”
He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….
You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.
He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.
You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.
“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.
“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.
You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.
“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.
But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.
“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”
And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.
He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.
And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.
“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.
“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”
Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.
“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”
Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.
You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.
Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”
You tried to nod between gripping your hair.
“Say it.”
“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”
“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”
His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.
Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.
You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.
“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”
You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.
“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”
“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.
You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.
“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.
You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.
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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago
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Years later ✧
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Plot: It makes you and your husband so happy to see your daughter and Emi playing together.
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The mouthwatering aromas of sizzling stir fry and rice wafted through the cozy kitchen where you busied yourself over those steaming pans. Every so often, peals of high-pitched giggles and rumblings filtered in from the rear patio - beckoning you to steal a glimpse beyond those wide glass panels.
Your heart swelled at the sight unfolding just outside.
There was Emi in all her towering, dragon-esque glory - currently stretched out across the manicured lawn with those massive clawed paws tucked beneath her chin. Giant saurian pupils blown wide while watching your five-year-old daughter scamper about with unrestrained glee, that tiny cherubic figure weaving between the kaiju's sinewy limbs in a game of cat and mouse.
Whenever that feisty little rapscallion dashed near enough, one of Emi's enormous talons would playfully swipe in her wake - always mindful of her miniature stature as mother and child erupted in breathless, rapturous laughter again.
Matching expressions of wonderstruck glee etched across both their beamings despite the stark juxtaposition in scale.
In that moment, the years simply melted away for you too. Transporting you right back to those surreal early days of first welcoming their strange yet irrevocable sisterly bond into the fold alongside Ken - both females linked through his patient, doting paternity in diametric yet equally vital ways.
A tender brush across your forearm caused you to startle back to the present, finding Ken's openly affectionate gaze trained in from the nearby breakfast nook.
Your husband watched that heartwarming scene unfurl with those chiseled features rendered utterly tranquil and unguarded - an idyllic vision of harmony you'd once yearned for him to experience.
"Just like real siblings playing together, don't you think?" Ken rumbled in that low timbre tinted with wonderment while you smoothed the backs of your fingers over his stubbled jawline.
He eagerly captured those roaming digits before you could retreat them - calloused lips ghosting reverently across each calloused knuckle while drinking you in with the same unshakable adoration.
"They are real siblings, sweetheart. Raised under the same steadfast love of their equally devoted parents..."
At his declaration, you released a tiny, breathy puff against Ken's forehead before leaning in to steal a lingering brush of your mouths - ignoring the stinging prick of joyous tears blurring your vision.
Because you recognized the profound truth embedded within those tender syllables.
This sprawling, unconventional household of yours was irrevocably bound together through far more than mere blood alone.
An unbreakable tether of insurmountable love and acceptance Ken nurtured so steadfastly and without exception - through you, through Emi, and now your spectacular daughter too.
Another rowdy outburst of giggles caused you to break that reverie, following the sound outside once more.
There was your baby perched precariously atop Emi's flank, little feet swinging merrily while the mighty kaiju craned her saurian neck around to gaze upon that cherished bundle with endless devotion too.
Just as her adoring 'father' continued watching with that soft, doting light dancing behind those cinnamon depths.
Basking in the resonant completion of his mismatched, boisterous brood playing together as one perfect unit without constraint...
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security-unit · 1 year ago
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I'm a sucker for in-universe fandoms and I can't stop thinking about the idea that murderbot writes sanctuary moon fanfics when it's bored and it becomes in-universe fandom famous not only for good fic writing but also for the batshit insane chapter notes such as "sorry for the late chapter, I got shot again" and "if I told you why this chapter is late you'd be able to find out who I am through the newsfeed, so you shall continue wondering. enjoy"
the readers are going insane questioning how it's still alive. also none of them know who it is. it doesn't have any other online fandom presence linked to its fic account. it never reveals any information that can be used to figure out who it is other than it has a very dangerous job and is augmented in some way.
the name I've been going with as a placeholder is "SecRin" but I am open to username suggestions (considering something related to Eden so one of Tapan & Co can be like "I met someone named Eden once, they were very sad and very competent at security" in the big fandom discussion about who the fuck is this fic writer)
anyways Ratthi likes sanctuary moon. Ratthi reads the fics (before going on The Survey) and gets invested. he only finds out MB is SecRin when MB leaves the note and Ratthi reads it and goes "wait a second" because he recognized the writing style
also like. we can't forget the ART and MB interview.
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like come on.
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charlotte-zophie · 11 months ago
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Therapy conversation
Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,
I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.
Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.
My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.
And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.
But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.
So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.
It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.
But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.
But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.
Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.
I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!
And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!
Thank you Fandom!
Thank you Neil Gaiman!
I would have been lost without you!
Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love
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cozycottagetarot · 3 months ago
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What's Your 'It Factor'?
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Notes:
'It Factor' is defined here as a standout quality or things other people would find inspiring or agree sets you apart from others in some way. I had imagined this would turn out a lot different but I noticed the reading was more so in a general sense rather than in a specific context, so do keep that in mind as you read it!
This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨ Please take only what resonates.
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - Open 🥂
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PILE 1
What are your core strengths or talents that define your unique 'it' factor?
Pile 1, your 'it' factor comes from ability to utilize to apply your skills in any area you choose to dive into. It doesn’t have to be something you’re naturally good at. As long as you set the intention to pursue something and have confidence in yourself, you’re immensely capable of achieving it. You have a unique talent for blending and transforming what you learn into other aspects of your life. It’s like you’re able to morph into whatever you decide to be, while remaining strong and successful. That adaptability and transformation is a huge part of your 'it' factor.
It might not seem like a big deal or even feel like a talent, but when you commit to something, you’re like a seed with the potential to grow abundantly. This applies not just to creative endeavors, but to any area you choose. Another big factor is your calm, quiet confidence. It’s not bold or loud but a deep knowing that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to. This self-assurance amplifies your 'it' factor.
For you, this blend of intentionality and intuition is a core strength. You might wonder how this is an 'it' factor, but it's incredibly admirable and can be applied to any area of your life. You have almost infinite potential to thrive in any space you enter; you just have to believe in your ability to do so.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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PILE 2
What is Your Core Strength or Talent That Defines Your Unique 'It' Factor?
You have a remarkable way of breathing life into the things around you, creating an aura where everything seems to work in your favor. You're incredibly magnetic, and your presence inspires others. Even when you're uncertain about where life will take you or when you feel lost, you hold onto hope and the belief that life has the potential to improve. Your ability to romanticize life makes you feel like 'it.' Even when others have a more negative perspective or tell you to be 'realistic' (rightfully so at times), you maintain your optimism and hope that things will work out, even if you can't see it yet. You also recognize your limits and understand that your nurturing energy needs to be focused on yourself as well. People often envy you because things always seem to work out in your favor.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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PILE 3
What Is Your Core Strength or Talent That Defines Your Unique 'It' Factor?
One of your most defining traits is your unwillingness to remain in situations, relationships, or mindsets that don't serve your highest good. You're not afraid to walk away or go within to set yourself up for new beginnings full of excitement and potential. This courage to venture into the unknown may be your unique 'It Factor,' bringing you unexpected but beautiful moments. From an outside perspective, it's inspiring to watch.
You do things when they're right for you, not on anyone else's schedule. If you have dependents—whether they're children, siblings, family, or even professional connections—your actions are never reckless. You make these choices to show up better for those who rely on you. You never take anyone for granted and can align your actions with the best interests of yourself and others, which is truly amazing. Your ability to pivot for the greater good of yourself and others may actually be your defining strength.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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vampirestookmydoubts · 6 months ago
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Hi, I loved loved loved your Bridgerton sis imagine, I love the bond she has with Benedict!! Could you write something about her falling in love with Prince Friedrich and some sisterly rivalry because Daphne is trying to make Simon jealous with him? Thank you!!
A Prince's Heart
A/N: thank you for the request, absolutely loved it! Hoping to write more like this in the future. Hope you enjoy! <3
Characters: bridgerton!sister x Prince Friedrich, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton
Word count: 2184
Warnings: non
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The ballroom in front of you was a shimmering sea of silks and satins, the opulence of the evening mirrored in every glittering crystal chandelier. The scent of roses and delicate perfumes filled the air, merged with the sound of laughter and the orchestra playing an upbeat song. Your heart fluttered as you stood near the entrance, trying to steady your nervous breath. This was a grand occasion for many, one that could change the course of many young women’s lives, including your own.
Your eyes scanned the room, catching sight of your siblings scattered about. Anthony was deep in conversation with Lady Danbury, while Colin and Eloise appeared to be in the midst of a lively debate. But it was Benedict who caught your eye, his warm smile offering a sense of calm in the bustling room. Your elder brother had always been your confidant, your anchor in the unpredictable sea of social expectations thrown at the both of you.
"Y/N," Benedict called, making his way toward you, linking your arm with his and starting to parade you around the room. "Are you enjoying the evening, dear sister?"
"As much as one can in these circumstances," you replied, a hint of mischief in your tone. He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Well, if anyone can find joy in such an event, it would be you."
Before you could respond, the room suddenly fell silent except for a few whispers and murmurs, and your attention was drawn to the grand staircase. There he was, the grand guest of the evening, Prince Friedrich, descending the stairs with an air of regal grace. Your breath caught in your throat.
The prince was a vision to see, his presence inevitably commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Your eyes met as he gazed upon the ton, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had disappeared.
The first time you had met the prince he was introduced to your sister Daphne, as she was the diamond of the season and you just happened to be with her and your mother, so you were greeted, too.
Despite what a lot of the Mama’s and their daughters thought, the prince wasn’t just all looks and riches. He was witty and intelligent and had the ability to make the people around him laugh sincerely and with ease. The way he included you into the conversation and not only asked about Daphne’s interests, but also about yours, never felt forced or just him being polite.
It felt like he had a sincere interest in getting to know you.
"Y/N, isn't he magnificent?” You were violently jolted back to reality by the excited voice of Daphne.
"Indeed," you replied cautiously, fixing your posture. "He is quite remarkable."
Daphne’s eyes sparkled with a hint of something more—determination, perhaps. “He certainly is. It’s no wonder the Queen is so fond of him. He would make a wonderful match for any young lady this season.”
You nodded, sensing the underlying tension in her words. “Indeed. He is quite the catch.”
Daphne’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know, he is interested in finding a suitable match, and as we were just presented this season and introduced to him, it is only natural for us to be among his considerations.”
You met her gaze, recognizing the competitive edge in her tone. “Of course, Daphne. But I think he is looking for more than just suitability. He seeks a genuine connection.”
“Which is why it is important to make a strong impression,” Daphne replied, her tone sharpening slightly at your underlying accusation. “He must see who is the best match for him.”
You felt a pang of frustration, not just at her words, but at the realization that she would use the prince to make Simon jealous. “Daphne, I understand your desire to capture his attention, but is it truly fair towards him… and Simon?”
She raised an eyebrow, her expression cool and composed. “Maybe I do care for the prince sincerely. I intend to make him mine, you know.” She straightened her posture. “Also, Simon has been most infuriating lately, and I believe a bit of jealousy might do him some good." Your heart sank. Of course, Daphne would use the prince to make the Duke of Hastings jealous. It was a clever plan, one that would undoubtedly succeed.
You sighed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know you, Daphne. I know how much you care for Simon. But Friedrich deserves honesty, not to be a pawn in your game.”
Daphne’s eyes softened, but her resolve remained. “So what about you, Y/N? What are your intentions with the prince?”
You took a deep breath, meeting her gaze with determination. “I think I feel a connection with him that I cannot ignore, Daphne.”
For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of unspoken words and sisterly rivalry heavy in the air. Then, Daphne’s expression softened slightly, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “I see. Perhaps we both have more at stake than we realize.”
As you watched your sister move toward the prince, clasping her giant feathery fan, a pang of something you couldn't quite identify surged within you. Was it envy? Regret? Or something deeper?
"Are you all right?" Benedict's concerned voice broke through your thoughts. You nodded, though your heart felt heavy. "Just thinking."
"About Prince Friedrich, perhaps?" he teased gently, nudging you softly. You met his gaze, your eyes betraying the turmoil within. "Perhaps."
Benedict's expression softened. "You have always been honest with yourself, Y/N. If you think you like him, you must not let Daphne's games deter you."
You sighed slightly, your eyes following Daphne as she easily engaged the prince in conversation, fanning her feather fan lowly to draw his attention to her cleavage.
"It's not that simple, Ben. Daphne has always been the one to capture attention. And now, with her being the diamond of the season and her mind set on Prince Friedrich..."
"I don’t know about Daphne’s motives, but I can sense you have genuine feelings for the prince. You should listen to your heart and not be content with living in your sisters shadow." Benedict interrupted your self-pity. “You deserve happiness, too.”
His words resonated with you, filling you with a resolve you hadn't realized you possessed. Perhaps Benedict was right. Perhaps you owed it to yourself to not let Daphne use him for her scheme and to see if this connection with Prince Friedrich was more than just your imagination and if there was something, where it might lead.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself following the prince with your eyes, waiting for a moment where he wasn’t engaged in some conversation. Just as you were about to give up your mission, Fortuna settled the matter and your paths crossed near the refreshment table.
"Miss Bridgerton," he greeted, his soft voice sending shivers down your spine, making you spin around.
"Your Highness," you replied quickly, offering a curtsy. "I trust you are enjoying the evening?"
"I am now," he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Might I have the pleasure of engaging you in a dance?"
You hesitated suddenly, glancing over to see Daphne watching you both with a keen interest. But then your gaze shifted to Benedict, silently rooting for you, and you knew what you had to do, despite your anxiety and racing thoughts.
"It would be my honor, Your Highness," you said, placing your hand in the one he held out for you.
The ballroom's splendid grandeur faded as Prince Friedrich escorted you to the dance floor. His hold on your hand and waist was warm and steady, his presence both calming and exhilarating at the same time. The small orchestra began a waltz, and you started to move in unison, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you.
"Miss Bridgerton," he began, his voice soft yet clear over the music, "I must confess, I have been eager to speak with you all evening."
You looked up into his eyes, surprised by the sincerity in his gaze. "And I, Your Highness, have been equally curious about you."
"Please," he said with a charming smile, "call me Friedrich."
"Friedrich," you repeated in a whisper, the name feeling both foreign and wonderfully familiar on your lips. "It's a beautiful name."
"Thank you, Y/N," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. "Tell me, do you enjoy these grand events?" You hesitated, considering your answer. "I do, to an extent. They are lovely, but I sometimes feel lost among the crowds and the expectations the ton has."
He nodded, understanding evident in his expression. "I understand. These gatherings can be quite overwhelming. It is rare to find genuine connection amidst all the pomp and circumstance."
"Indeed," you agreed, feeling a growing ease in his company. "But I find solace in the familiar faces of my family. My brother Benedict, in particular, always knows how to bring a smile to my face."
"Family is a great comfort," Friedrich said thoughtfully. "I admire the close bond your family shares. It is something I have longed for."
Your heart softened at his words, seeing a vulnerability in him that was surely hidden behind his princely façade most of the time. "You are always welcome among us, Friedrich. We Bridgertons have a habit of adopting those we care about."
He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "That is a generous offer, Y/N. I may take you up on that."
As the music swirled around you, the conversation grew more personal, the connection between you deepening with each passing moment. But you also became acutely aware of Daphne watching from the sidelines, her expression unreadable. You knew she had her own motives, her own desires, but in this moment, they seemed distant, overshadowed by the prince's presence.
"May I ask, Friedrich, how do you like London?" you inquired.
"It feels like a mix of duty and desire," he admitted. "I didn’t time to see much of London, to be honest. As you know, my aunt, the Queen, believes it is time I find a suitable match. But I was hoping to find someone with whom I can share more than just royal obligations."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words and mustered up your strength to ask further. "And have you had any luck in the search so far?"
His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made you catch your breath. "Perhaps," he said softly. "There is indeed someone who has captured my attention."
Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, hope blossoming in your heart. "And, if I may ask, what is it that you seek in a potential partner, Friedrich?"
"Someone genuine, kind, and unafraid to be themselves," he said, his voice earnest. "Someone like you, Y/N." The admission left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing and head spinning.
"I have to admit you seem different from the others," Friedrich said, his tone contemplative. "There is a sincerity about you that is rare to find these days."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I could say the same about you, Friedrich. You are not what I expected."
He cocked his head in confusion. "And what did you expect?"
You paused, searching for the right words. "Someone distant, untouchable. But you... you are kind, genuine."
Friedrich's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. "It takes courage to be yourself in a world that often demands otherwise."
Your breath hitched as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "To be honest I find myself drawn to you in ways I cannot explain," he confessed.
Your heart soared at his words, the honesty in his eyes mirroring your own feelings. "I… feel the same, Friedrich."
The moment was charged with unspoken emotion, a promise of something deeper, something real. The music swelled, and as the final notes played, Friedrich led you to the edge of the dance floor. He didn't release your hand immediately, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles.
"I would very much like to see you again, Y/N," he said, his eyes searching yours.
You smiled, feeling a sense of hope and excitement you hadn't felt in a long time. "I would like that too, Friedrich." The prince smiled contently, offering you a polite bow as he handed you over to Benedict, who nodded at Friedrich in response.
You curtsied as a goodbye and when you came up again, you were greeted by Benedict’s raised eyebrow and a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Friedrich, hm.”, Benedict mocked you in a loving way. You felt your cheeks flush, but returned his smile, feeling a newfound sense of confidence and purpose.
The night had brought unexpected revelations and the promise of new beginnings. As you watched Prince Friedrich mingle with the guests, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them. For now, you had hope, and perhaps something more—a chance at love.
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faeriekit · 3 months ago
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What it's been like to try to get into comics thus far:
Someone tells you to try reading comics online. It's free! Cool. You'll try it. You make a mental note to try an online search when you get home, and go about your day.
You try to find a site that has old comics. You click around. The scroll bar is huge. You recognize none of the names. There are some sets of series that seem to have the same name. You pick one at random. You don't understand what you're looking at. You close the tab. You'll try again tomorrow.
"Try reading _____ series! It's so good!" You look for the series name online. Turns out it's just a nickname. You can't be sure which version of the series it is. The wiki is no help. You'll try again tomorrow.
You watch a show based on the comics characters. It's fun; not groundbreaking, but fun. You look it up online later. Everyone complains about how it's not like the comics' characterizations. The writers did them dirty. You should read the comics instead. You close the forum tab.
"Why don't these idiots just get into comics? All these people are just cluttering up the fandom with their horrible takes on the characters. They clearly have no idea what the actual character/plot/series is like!" Okay. You do want to know, so it's probably worth another try. You'll try again tomorrow.
They didn't include a link. You have no idea what you're looking for without context. You keep looking stuff up and getting different names of series and characters and location. You have no idea where you are, and every beginning seems like the middle of the story. There are four different wikis in your results tab and you're not sure which one is actually the think you're looking for. You'll try again tomorrow.
You read the graphic novels. You like them a lot. You know that's not what they're talking about.
You watch a movie. It has the comic characters in it. You like it. You check it out online to see if other people like it too, and all you see is more complaints about how it differs from the comics. You're doing it wrong.
"People who can't get into comics are just weak. Just pick a random spot and start!" Okay. You go back to that endless scroll bar. You try to start reading something at random. It relies on concepts you haven't been introduced to and character relationships that already have an unseen depth to them. You don't have the context for any of it. You don't understand. Why is it moving so fast? Are you just too tired to understand what's on the page? You'll try again tomorrow, just in case.
You pick an omnibus off the shelf at the library. It starts in the middle of someone else's story and ends up with a cast in the low twenties. You try to keep up. You know who most of the people are, but the focus is so large and the story is so overwhelming that you don't think you really absorbed, like...any of it?? You put it back on the shelf. You'll try it again tomorrow.
You've seen more versions of every character than most fans ever will. You think longingly of what it must be like to be a filthy casual. You bet they're not wondering if they're bad at this hobby late at night. People probably vagueblog about them, too, but they don't even notice. Must be nice.
You watch another movie. It's nice. You end up with an omnibus of a short-run of something, so it's easier to digest. That's nice too. You're just reading to read. It's pleasant.
People argue online about what the BEST characterization of this person is and who's an awful writer and the runs no one should read and the stuff that WAS canon but now it ISN'T and there's the RIGHT stuff to read and the WRONG stuff to read, and some of it is truly terrible. You try to remember what the RIGHT stuff is, or else everyone will know that you're doing this wrong. You have to remember that this is just a hobby. You're having fun. You're supposed to be having fun.
"Fans of THIS adaptation are so annoying; they clog up the real works of appreciators of the original comics run and ruin the characters!" You look at the adaptation. It's officially licensed. Neat. The rest of the stuff you've tried has been official too. It hasn't stopped the vitriol.
You think that some of the fans hold the preciousness of the comics closer to their chest than the actual publisher. You're not sure what to do with that thought. You're so tired. You read another comics-based graphic novel, since it's on the shelf at B&N, and it's good. It's really, really good. You know in your heart it doesn't count as liking comics, and you wish it would get the same appreciation as the famous comics in your fangroups. You know it won't.
A fanauthor you like vagueposts about the idiots who can't even read the fucking comics once every other week. You've almost unfollowed them maybe half a dozen times. If you do, you won't get to see their works when they post. They hate you and they haven't met you, and they have no idea you exist. Okay. Maybe you'll do it tomorrow.
You like the characters. You like your fellow fans' interpretations of them. You like their stories and you love their art and you love sharing ideas with them and you're having fun. You're having fun and you're doing it wrong. No one wants you here and you don't understand what makes a good adaptation as opposed to a bad one if they're both well written and well liked and no one is willing to have a full on conversation without condescending down to you for being a fan without knowing anything. It's been a year. It's been a year and everyone else has been reading since they were knee high and you're behind because it's only been a year and there's cultural history you're only just learning and how dare you be ignorant of it. Don't you know how much you're missing? Don't you know how stupid you are??
You see officially licensed merchandise in the store. It makes you feel weird. You're having fun. You have to be having fun, or else what's the point?
People will do anything with beginner or prospective fans except give them a link to a recommendation. You can like a character, but you can't have a different interpretation of them— that's exclusive to officially licensed adaptations, and even then people will complain. You're on your own. No one will help you.
You're on your own. No one will help you.
You check out a couple of comics-based picture books and a graphic novel that looks interesting. You put a DVD of an adaptation on hold. You're on your own, and no one will help you, but maybe you have a right to have fun by yourself.
You watch. You read. You have fun. It's not enough, but you're...happy. You're pretty sure that's what this is.
Close enough.
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strlvvr · 6 months ago
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my best friends brother (is the one for me) - part three
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i’m so excited for this series you guys aren’t ready
word count: 903 words
read part two here!
⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ୭ৎ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚ ⋆。˚
i woke up with the sun shining into my face. i turned around to try to get some more sleep, only to roll into matt. i had forgotten that i had slept in his room with him. i moved away from him and watched his chest rise and fall, small snores coming from his mouth with every exhale. i stretched my arm out, grazing over his chest, letting myself wonder what it would be like if it were like this all the time. 
i watched as he slowly opened his eyes, moving his hands up to rub the sleep away from them. he turned over to face me with a goofy smile on his face.
“good morning.” he groaned as he stretched. i couldn’t helped looking at the skin peeking out from the hem of his shirt. 
my attention being drawn away from a knock on the door.
“did y/n leave last- nevermind.” nick said while opening the door.
“sorry, we ended up watching another movie and by the time it was over you were already asleep. i didn’t want to wake you up.” i said, almost defensively, while starting to get out of bed. 
“where’s my phone?” matt asked me, scrambling around him for it.
“oh, i put it over here with mine last night,” i grabbed the two phones handing him his, not before looking down at the screen lighting up. i recognized the wallpaper, it was a picture of us and his brothers from the last time we were in boston. one of few pictures we had taken that trip, he had his arms hugging my waist with his brothers next to us in a security camera. i smiled as i gave him his phone, getting up to go see what chris and nick were making for breakfast. 
the only way i can describe the smell in my nose is burnt. the closer i got to the kitchen the worse it smelt. i walked into the kitchen to see chris running around, like he was trying to hide the evidence of anything going wrong. 
despite the horrible smell, the food was surprisingly good. laid out on the table were eggs, slices of toast, bacon, sausage links, and waffles. it looked shockingly good, considering who cooked it. i grabbed a plate and started piling food onto it when i heard matt come out of his room. he walked right past me, grabbing a plate and walking to the table. i sat at an empty chair, thinking matt was going to sit next to me but he sat the furthest away from me. 
i half ignored the conversation, eating my food and wondering what was up with matt. he was keeping to himself more than usual and not acting himself. 
“you still with us y/n?” chris asked, finishing the food he just ate.
“oh yeah, sorry i’m in my own world,” i pushed the eggs around on my plate.
i can feel matt’s eyes on me as chris asks if i’m sure. i stood up and walked over to the garbage, scraping my food into the trash. i heard someone get up from the table and felt them behind me. 
“why’d you lie to him?” it was matt.
“i don’t know why you care.” i shrugged, trying to act like it doesn’t matter.
“of course i care, y/n,” he said in disbelief, “why wouldn’t i?”
i felt my heart drop but i just shook my head, walking away. 
୭ৎ୭ৎ୭ৎ
walking to my car, i felt a slight sprinkling of rain hit my face. disregarding it, i got in my car and starting driving home. 
halfway to my house i saw matt’s contact popping up on the screen in my car.
’matt!! is calling’  
i didn’t answer, half focused on the pounding rain on the road and half because i did not want to talk to him at the moment. after the ringing stopped, i turned up the music and kept driving, not being able to stop thinking about him.
‘matt!! sent you a message’
i ignored it.
‘matt!! sent you a message’
i grabbed my phone and shut it off.
turning down my road, the rain started to let up a little bit. i passed my driveway, not wanting to go home just yet. i circled my neighborhood for a few minutes before going home, dreading turning my phone back on. 
once i walked in, i immediately got in the shower, not bothering to turn my phone on. i needed five minutes to myself without him texting or calling me. i couldn’t stop the events of last night replaying in my mind. 
getting out of the shower, i started trying to decide what movie i should watch. changing into shorts and a big shirt, i got into my bed. i decided on watching shutter island, considering i was just ranting about it the night before. 
i decided to turn my phone back on, finding eleven messages and three missed calls from matt. 
‘are you okay?’
‘hello?’
‘y/n answer me please’
‘look it was raining pretty hard i just want to know if you’re okay’
“y/n’
‘i’m seriously getting worried.’
‘please just text me’
‘or just like a message.’
‘please.
‘i’m sorry’
‘i'm coming over’
the last message was sent at 11:26 a.m. i looked at the time and it was 11:47 a.m.
tag list:
@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0 @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @h3arts4harry @matthewscherrypie @satvisfavetoodles @secret-sturniolo @mattsturniololoverr @blablablabla2525 @melanch0lybby @always-reading @bbernard-03
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fratttymatty · 9 days ago
Text
Southern Shift
(All characters are 18+)
Maddox had never been much of a believer in magic. Sure, he’d seen the viral videos, heard the wild stories, but he figured they were all some sort of elaborate hoaxes or clever editing tricks. His life had always been a straightforward one: an 18-year-old guy from a fairly progressive city on the coast. He was used to being who he was—a proud gay man, confident and comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t fit in with every crowd, but that was fine by him. He had his friends, his passions, and a future in design and art lined up after graduation.
But when a strange e-mail showed up one Wednesday evening, everything Maddox knew about his life was thrown into chaos.
It came from a source called TrueVision Enterprises, a company he’d never heard of, with a subject line that read: "Your Destiny Awaits — Experience a New Life." Curiosity got the best of him. What could possibly go wrong?
It was a poorly-written message, vague but cryptic. “Ever wonder what it’s like to be someone else? To experience a life you’ve only imagined? Click here to find out.”
A grin spread across his face. Who wouldn’t be intrigued? Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was a scam. But it was better than staring at the same four walls all night. So, against better judgment, he clicked the link.
The screen went black for a moment, then flashed with a blinding light.
When Maddox opened his eyes, everything had changed.
It wasn’t just the environment—though the suburban neighborhood around him looked radically different from his usual cityscape. No, it was something far deeper, more visceral. He felt it in his bones, in his muscles, in the very way he was standing.
Looking down, he saw the first signs. His body had undergone a remarkable transformation. Gone was his lean but soft physique, the figure of a 5'11" city guy with a slight build. In its place was something else entirely: a lean, toned build with defined muscles in his arms, chest, and legs. His body felt stronger, like he could throw a punch without thinking about it, or lift heavy things without breaking a sweat. But what really caught his attention was his height.
He blinked, staring down at himself. He was taller. Not just a little taller, but by a significant amount. Maddox used to be 5'11", but now, standing at 6'3", he had a commanding presence. His legs stretched out longer than he remembered, and the new height gave him an imposing posture. He’d never been the tallest in his group, and now he towered over everyone, even the people around him who seemed much bigger and broader than he remembered.
His new height felt natural, like it had always been this way. But it also made him feel powerful, larger-than-life in a way that was completely unfamiliar.
He glanced at the house around him. It was large, a two-story place with wide windows, a white picket fence, and an immaculately-kept lawn. The interior was similarly pristine, and the smell of fresh wood and leather filled the air. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn’t anywhere he recognized. But something about the space felt... familiar, as though it was his home now.
He staggered, momentarily disoriented, and made his way to a nearby mirror.
What he saw almost made him fall over.
A stranger stared back at him. His face was familiar, but only in the way you recognize a reflection in a window before you really focus on it. His hair—blonde, curly, and wild—was cut into a mullet that reached just past the top of his neck, the ends flaring out like a halo of unruly curls. He didn’t remember ever styling his hair that way, yet the new version of himself seemed to suit it effortlessly. The loose curls framed his jawline, drawing attention to the newly defined muscles there.
His eyes, once a sharp hazel, had turned a lighter shade of blue. His expression was different too—stoic, even smug, like someone who knew exactly who he was and had no time for nonsense.
Then he looked down at himself, taking in his outfit. A plaid, button-up shirt—tight across his chest but still comfortable—clung to his muscular frame. He wore a worn leather belt with a large, shining buckle, a pair of jeans that fit just right and boots that seemed made for walking through dirt. And of course, a tan, weathered cowboy hat sat perched on top of his head.
Everything about his appearance screamed “redneck,” yet it was as if he'd always been this way. As if this transformation was simply an outward reflection of who he was now.
He stared at his reflection, utterly speechless, before hearing a voice from behind him.
"Adam, honey, come on down here! Dinner’s ready!"
He froze. Adam? That wasn’t his name. His name was Maddox.
But when he tried to say it—when he opened his mouth to speak—it wasn’t "Maddox" that came out.
"Yessir, mom," the new voice said, gruff and confident, with a drawl he didn't recognize. It was his voice, but it felt... wrong.
Before he could think further, his feet carried him toward the stairs. Every movement felt more natural, more instinctual. He didn’t have to think about walking anymore; his body just moved.
The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted by two older figures: a tall man with a thick beard and a sun-worn face, and a woman with perfectly-coiffed blonde hair and a warm, motherly smile.
"Adam, you hungry, baby?" The woman—his new "mother"—asked in a thick Southern accent, as she placed a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes on the table.
"Yeah, looks good, mom." His voice was smooth, authoritative, and familiar. It was like he had always talked this way.
The man, his new father, patted him on the back. "Atta boy. Gotta keep up your strength if you’re gonna help me with the truck this weekend."
Adam nodded, suddenly feeling an unfamiliar rush of excitement at the thought of working on a truck. "Sounds good, pops."
His father gave him a knowing look. "Glad to hear it. Gotta be ready to defend this house. Keep it in shape." There was a pause, and then a sly smirk crossed his face. "Though, I gotta say, I’m more worried about that little gay friend of yours. What’s his name again? Cody, right?"
Adam’s heart skipped. Cody was his best friend. But the way his father said it—the sneer in his voice—felt wrong. His thoughts tried to resist, but the tug of new instincts, of new feelings, pushed him to respond in a way he would have never before.
"Yeah, Cody’s a nice guy," Adam said, his voice dripping with casual disdain, "but man, he’s just… different, y’know? He’s always talking about stuff I don’t care about, like his art or whatever. He’s not really my kind of guy. Dude’s all wrapped up in his feelings and thinks he’s some kind of big thinker. He’s just not built for the real world."
Adam laughed and shrugged, the words flowing out like they were second nature. It felt good, somehow, to say it out loud. The Maddox part of him—the part that would’ve fiercely defended Cody, that would’ve fought anyone who insulted him—seemed like a distant memory.
His father chuckled, clearly approving. "Well, I’m glad to hear you’re making better choices, son. You don't need someone like that holding you back."
"Exactly," Adam said with a grin. "I’ve got enough on my plate, worrying about football, work, and, you know, my future. Guys like Cody? They just complicate things."
The following day, Adam found himself at a school that seemed to be from another world. The high school was old, with large wooden bleachers in the gym and the faint smell of tobacco in the air. Kids in cowboy boots and trucker hats roamed the halls, and there was an air of casual arrogance in the way they all carried themselves.
When he walked into the classroom, heads turned. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, but now, standing at his new, imposing height of 6'3", Adam felt like he belonged. He loomed over the students around him, towering above them with a sense of superiority that felt right, even though it was still so new. His height made him feel like the guy everyone respected—or, if they didn’t, they at least stayed out of his way.
"Hey, Adam," a guy called from the back of the room. He had a thick jaw and a cocky grin. "How’s it going, man?"
"Good, bro," Adam replied, easily slipping into the role of the guy everyone wanted to hang out with. The guy who didn’t care about anything except his truck, his friends, and his future. A life of simple pleasures, uncomplicated by anything like "progressive politics" or "diversity."
But the most striking change came when he spotted her in the hallway. Emily.
She was the cheerleading captain. Blonde, athletic, and with a smile that lit up the entire school. Adam hadn’t expected to feel such a strong pull toward her, but as he watched her walking toward him, he felt his chest puff out with pride, the feeling of possession he didn’t quite understand.
"Hey, Adam," Emily called, giving him a wink. She wore her cheer uniform—tight, short, and red—and looked every bit the picture of what his new life was supposed to be. "You ready for the game on Friday? I’ve got your back, big guy."
"Always," Adam said, his voice dropping an octave. He felt confident, even cocky, as he walked toward her, putting an arm around her waist as they headed to class together. She was his girlfriend, after all, and that was just the way things were now. The idea of a different reality, a different version of himself, felt so distant.
By the time school ended, Adam was fully in his new life. Football practice had been intense, but Adam had breezed through it. As a starting wide receiver, he was the star of the team. He felt invincible on the field, his new body moving with strength and agility. The other players had all been high-fiving him, slapping his back, calling him "the beast."
And as for Emily? She was always by his side, chatting him up with that sweet, familiar smile. They talked about the weekend plans—probably a party at Brad's, a bonfire down by the lake—and Adam felt perfectly at home.
When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Adam had only one thought: This is my life now. He was Adam, the 6'3", football-playing redneck with a cheerleader girlfriend and a world of opportunities at his feet.
The old Maddox, the artist from the city, was gone.
And Adam? Adam was everything he’d ever needed to be.
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rosenclaws · 10 days ago
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Come back (erased part ii) || Logan Howlett x Reader
summary: Logan doesn't remember you but he can sense you. He can tell you were someone important so when the team hatches a plan to find you he's the one leading the charge.
warnings: she/her pronouns, violence, killing, blood, reader gets hit/threatened, mental torture, injuries, logan goes feral, illusions.
wc: 3.5k
link to part 1
a/n: Part two is here!! Finally omfg im sorry this took so long. I hope this is a good part two i had a fun time writing the angst and stuff. It maybe ended a little darker than I meant but oh welll. We love some angst. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!
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The sound of the grandfather clock echoes in Logan's ears. The faint sound of students walking around the halls, playing outside. All drowned out by the clock. The heart necklace sits in his palm, his rough fingers tracing the shape over and over again.
When Logan had gotten back to the mansion he was bombarded with questions. All about a person he had never heard of. He grew angry and confused, wondering who they were talking about. It wasn't until he saw the look on all their faces that he realized something was wrong.
Memory wiped. He was fucking memory wiped again. Charles tried to explain it all but his brain went fuzzy. He tried to restore them but whatever you had done was too powerful. Only faint distant feelings. They tried to jog his memories with pictures but nothing worked. Whoever you were you were, you and him were close.
He's got a look on his face that he doesn't even recognize. One of pure adoration. The stories they tell, it was like hearing stories of someone else. He went through his room. He could smell this faint vanilla scent. The same one from the motel room. It was you. He was with you. But just who are you?
He turns the heart around in his hands. It’s faintly familiar. He closes his eyes and tries to wrack his brain for anything. Just something. There's a gaping hole in his chest, a sense of dread and something lost. A surge of anger takes over him as he shoves the necklace back in his pocket. He feels helpless and confused and he fucking hates it.
They're planning something in Chuck's office and they kicked him out. Why he doesn't know. They're planning a rescue for you and apparently he was the most important person to you so why wouldn't he be in there. Even if he doesn't remember. He should be in there. He stands up and barges through the doors, not caring anymore.
"Tell me what the hell is going on. Now." He stands with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.
"Logan..." Jean starts but he brushes her off.
"I don't fucking care if I don't remember her just fucking tell me the mission." They team exchange looks and Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's not a child. Whether he remembers you or not you were important to him and to the team. He needs to get you back.
"The mutant group, apparently she knew of them. She used to work with them years ago before any of us knew her." Charles explains and Logan listens. His hands tightening into a fist.
"We believe that she went after them for reasons we do not know. But what we do know is that they're dangerous. More dangerous than what she remembers." He can feel somethings off. The way the team shifts in their seats. The way Ororo won't even look him in the eyes.
"Logan, we think they have her." Scott says slowly.
"So we go find her."
"It's not that simple-"
"No it really fucking is that simple." Logan growls.
"You all talk about her like she's the heart of the fucking mansion so why am I the one who seems to care the most right now! I can't even remember her!" Logan slams his fist hard onto the table it almost breaks.
Why aren't they as worried as he is? Why don't they seem to care? Silence casts over the room but slowly everyone nods, agreeing with him.
"We leave in 15." He says with such severity that no one argues. Logan turns and leaves. Ready to come and find you.
-
The jet engine hum is the only sound inside. Everyone is quiet. Waiting. Normally Logan hates flying but right now he's too focused on getting you back. His eyes are closed as he tries to pull anything from his head. The faint sound of laughter, the feeling of warmth, the smell of vanilla. All of it was right there. Locked behind a door he couldn't get through. He feels someone sit in the seat next to him.
"What." He growls as he turns the necklace in his hand around and around.
"Are you okay?" It's storms voice. He sighs and opens his eyes.
"Just fine." She's quiet for a moment before she decides to talk.
"We're going to find her Logan." She says with a confidence he just doesn't have.
"You and her, I've never seen two people more meant for each other. She made you happy and you made her feel less alone." He wishes he remembered you.
He really does.
He can't think of all the moments he's been told about or the pictures that have been taken. He doesn't know what it was like to love you or to be loved by you anymore. It kills him. If he was happy, if you made him happy, then he's lost it all. Why would you take that away? From him and from you. Why couldn't you trust him with this?
Even though his memories are gone he can feel this sense of worry building in his chest. He needs you to be okay. He needs to protect you. Fuck he doesn't even remember you but that deep primal urge is still there.
"Five minutes out. Everyone brace for landing." Logan tucks the necklace into his suit, keeping it close to his heart as he unsheathes his claws and waits for landing. He will find you. There's no other option for him.
-
Your whole body ached. After leaving Logan you tracked down Mack and his gang but they had the one up on you. New, powerful mutants. They already knew you were coming the second you had the thought. They ambushed you. Attacked you and rendered you useless. They should have just killed you but Mack wanted to keep you. To lure your team out as a trap.
"They aren't coming." You hiss as he stands in front of you. He's crouching down and grinning.
"I don't know sweetheart, my sources tell me there's someone on the team who is quite fond of you." He brushes your cheek and you recoil in disgust.
"Get your fucking hands off me." He chuckles and one of his followers hit you hard in your leg.
"Feisty. Tell me, is that because of Logan? Did he rub off on you?" Your blood runs cold. If they do anything to him.
"Don't touch him." You lunge at Mack but you're restrained. to the ground. Mack presses his foot onto your throat and his smirk turns into something dark.
"You're funny. Tell you what." He puts more pressure on your neck and you start to see dots in your vision.
"When the Wolverine gets here we'll make him watch you die...and then kill him." Mack laughs and another hard blow to your head sends you into darkness.
You can only hope that Logan stays far, far away from this.
-
He can hear them. Fucking idiots not even trying to hide. They're bragging, laughing. Well they won’t be laughing for long. Logan’s claws gleam under the moonlight as he stalks like an animal.
The plan was to create a diversion while a rescue team goes in to get you. He wasn’t exactly know for his subtlety but no one wanted to argue him being the one to find you. It was a one man rescue team.
The sky rumbles and a loud explosion from far away leads the mutant group away. Logan springs into action. He takes out the few bodyguards around camp with ease.
He finds you alone and unguarded. A sense of relief washing over him as he bends down and scoops you up in his arms. Though he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. That this was too easy.
“Logan?” Your voice is quiet, broken.
“Hey, we’re gonna get you out of here.” He gently holds you as he looks for a way out.
“No.” You say. Your voice stronger than before. Confusion washes over him as you push him away. The injuries on your body seemed to disappear as the world fades around him.
“You think I want you to save me? I ran away from you Logan. Couldn’t you get the fucking hint?” Your words spit like venom. You were not the person he thought you were.
“It was all a lie, a cover.” His claws come out, teeth baring as his anger grows. But then he catches a whiff of someone unfamiliar. He hears the faint calling of his name.
“Yeah?” He walks closer to you. A taunting look on your face. Without warning he swings his claws right next to your face.
“Tell him that it will take more than a weak illusion to fool me.” Logan whispers in your ear.
Slowly the world he thought was reality melts away. Your tied up, held by force by one of Mack’s followers. Had he given in and swung at you he would have killed you. That must have been their plan. He looks to the side to see a body with three claw marks on the ground.
“Well, you’re smarter than I thought. Well done Wolvie.” He hears a slow clap behind him.
”Fuck off bub,” Logan growls as he holds up his claws. Ready to pounce. He hears the rustling around him. He’s not alone, they’re hiding, waiting.
“It’s a shame really, we would have gotten along great.” Mack smirks as Logan grows angrier.
“Fat fucking chance.” Logan lunges at Mack but he’s tackled to the ground. Held down by some sort of force he can’t fight.
“You may be physically strong but let’s see how you do when someone fucks with your mind. Just like she did.” Logan struggles baring his teeth as he tries to fight out of whatever hold they have him under.
“Stop!” You cry out. Your voice is strained and tears are falling down your cheeks.
“Mack please, just leave him alone.” You fight out of the grip on you with all your strength. Falling to the ground roughly. Your hands are still tied behind your back as you struggle to get up.
“Please don’t hurt him.” Your desperate.
Mack stands up crouches over you. He grabs your face roughly, digging his nails into your face tightly. Logan growls when he sees you wince in pain.
“Aww so cute.” He taunts and throws you to the ground.
“The question is which one of you has the biggest hero complex hm? You left us because you thought we were wrong, evil. You wanted to play hero.”
“What we did was wrong Mack. We hurt innocent people for our own good.” Logan stares at you and you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes.
You can’t bare to see that look of nothing. He doesn’t know who you are and its your fault. But this is for the best. You can get him out of here and he can walk away from you without the pain.
You feel a sharp pain as Mack slaps you hard. “We were surviving!” He yells.
“Why should we care about the world when they don’t care about us!” He takes out a pocket knife and you tense up.
“Get the fuck away from her.” Logan roars and Mack just grins.
With a snap of his fingers one of the other mutants starts to crush Logan. It was a subtle pressure at first but he could feel the discomfort. They were sinking him into the ground. They were going to bury him alive. You can see a flash of panic. He hates that suffocating feeling. So reminiscent of his nightmares.
“Mack please, we were family once.” You beg as you watch Logan struggle. You can’t let them do this to him.
“Stop please!” Mack grabs your face and makes you watch.
“We were but you picked a new family. Now you can watch him suffocate.” Your eyes meet with Logan’s and you start to cry. He’s afraid. Its your fault. This is all your fault.
“I’ll stay! I’ll stay and help you again just let him go!” You cry out. The weight is lifted off Logan and he scrambles to breathe.
“I promise. I won’t fight and I won’t run. Just please, leave him alone.” Mack thinks for a moment, its a tempting offer. Your powers are strong and he was never able to find anyone quite like you.
“No! Logan shouts, he can’t let you do this. Not for him.
“You got yourself a deal. But if you ever try anything. We’ll hunt him down and kill him. Then the rest of your little family.” Your eyes flash with fear and you nod.
Logan’s heart twists as he sees the broken look on your face. You’re condemning yourself to a torturous life for him. When you look at him he feels a horrible feeling. He longs for you. Your eyes are full of a love he’s missing from his life. You love him and he can’t even remember what it was like. Did you calm his nightmares? Keep his deepest secrets? Did you know all his faults and choose to love him anyways? He needs to know. They pick him up and force him onto his knees.
"Tell your team to stay away." Mack wraps his hand around your neck, his knife pressing against your skin, taunting Logan.
"Logan...I love you and I'm sorry." Your voice is raspy as you choke out the words. He needs to know. You smile painfully as Logan just looks at you.
"Go on, run away Wolvie." Mack snarls.
Even in pain your eyes are full of love just looking at him. He was your everything. You love him so much you're willing to sacrifice yourself, your happiness, all of it for him. How? This kind of love...he's never felt this before. He may not remember it all with you but fuck he wants to know what its like. He wants to learn what it was like to be loved by you. He can't let you go. Not when his future happiness is in your hands. The rage builds. He will not leave you. Doesn't matter how much blood will be shed tonight. He will save you.
With a loud roar Logan unsheathes his claws and with all his willpower throws off the weighted feeling. He's like an animal, snarling and growling as he drives his claws into your captors. There's no mercy in the way he takes each and everyone of them out. They try to stop him but when they realize their efforts are futile they start to run.
"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is cold, void of any emotion as he digs his claws deep into someone chest. Mack's confidence fades as he watches Logan's rampage. He grabs you and tries to run. Dragging you along the forest floor.
"Logan!" You shout and he instantly turns around.
On all fours he uses his claws to launch himself towards you. Chasing Mack down like prey. It's really a pity how fast he catches him. At another time he would have enjoyed playing with him, toying with his fear. All the pain he's caused, not just your pain but the innocent people he's ruined. He deserves to pay.
"Not so tough now huh?" Logan stabs him right through the heart.
When he's sure he's dead he stands up, blood soaking his claws. His head turns to you and you freeze. You know he won't hurt you but apart of you worries this is a trick. Another one of Mack's illusions just to fuck with you. Logan gently bends down and cuts you free.
"He's gone sweetheart." Tears start to fall down your cheeks as he scoops you up in his arms.
"I'm sorry I'm so sorry." You babble over and over as Logan holds you tight. You fit just like a puzzle piece into his arms. This feels right. This feels like home. The sound of footsteps sets him on edge but he calms down when he sees the familiar faces of his team.
"Where the hell were you guys?"
-
No one dared bother Logan. They let him take you back to the jet. He held you the whole time. Even when you fell asleep from utter exhaustion he kept you close. He was with you every step of the way. Bringing you to the lab, watching as they run tests and stick needles into your arm. On your recovery bed with the ugly white lights he sat until you woke up. Sometimes you stirred, whining and you sounded afraid.
He wonders what fucked up things Mack made you see. The bruises and scars on your body told only half the story. With each fearful sound he wishes he would have taken longer to kill that bastard. But he's gone now and you seem to calm down when he's with you. Sensing him through your sleep.
The necklace sits in his hand. After he got back he had to make sure it was still with him. It was bloodied now, and had some wear and tear from the past. So he busied himself fixing it up, cleaning it until it shined like new. He doesn't know when or why he bought it for you but clearly it was special. The two stones meant something. He knew they did.
When you finally came to he jumped into action. Calling hank to come check on you while he slipped away to get you water. There was a big fuss, people scolding you for leaving and crying from happiness that you were back. Apologizes poured out of your mouth as you faced your family. Logan hung back and watched you be embraced, be loved. Your powers seemed to settle after this. The fear of touching other people was gone as you hugged people without a second thought. He waited and waited until it was just the two of you.
"Hey there," You can barely look at him as he sits in the plastic chair next to your bed.
"Logan I..." You can't get the words out. How do you even begin to apologize.
You bury your face in your hands but Logan isn't having it. He had a lot of questions but they could wait. He takes your hands away from your face, cupping your chin to make you look at him. Your heart breaks a little when you look into those eyes. He still doesn't know you. Of course, his memories are still gone.
"Why did you come? You don't remember me." You ask him. He risked his life for you, he killed for you. The Logan you knew at the start wouldn't have done that for you. Maybe with the team but to risk all of it alone. Why?
"I don't have to remember you to see you were important to me sweetheart, though I would really like those memories back." Of course.
You never took them from him. If anything you locked them away. You couldn't bring yourself to truly erase yourself from his mind. With a gentle touch you release his memories like a tidal wave. They pour into his brain, flooding his senses as memory after memory flash into his mind. Ending with your final moments together in that motel room.
Your first kiss, you told him you loved him. You took that from him. He should be angry with you. You stole his memories just like they did before but when he opens his eyes there's no anger.
Only love.
He smashes his lips onto yours. Capturing you into a heated kiss. This is what he dreamed of. Getting to touch you like this, to show his love. He's rough with his motions. He should be gentler but he can't help himself. Years of desperation building up into this. He can finally hold you, finally claim you as his.
"Logan I'm so sorry." You cry. He shushes you with another kiss.
He doesn't care about that right now. You were afraid and though he wishes you came to him he's just glad to have you back. You scared the fuck out of him.
"I love you too sweetheart, you didn't give me the chance to say it but fuck I love you." You claw at his shirt to get him closer.
You need him to be as close as he can. He ignores the wires and climbs into the bed with you. Situating himself so that you're as close as you can get. Legs intertwined with each other. He takes the necklace and places it around your neck. Clasping it and smiling as it rests above your heart.
"I'll always fight for us sweetheart. I'll fight for you." Even if he doesn't remember you he knew deep down that there was something there. That you were important to him. No one could take that away from him.
You curl into his arms, finally feeling at peace for the first time. Not worried about your powers or about your past. You felt protected and loved. Logan lulls you back to rest promising to keep watch. He knows that what you suffered won't go away easily but he'll be there every step of the way.
Nothing will take you from him again. Not ever. He'll make sure of that.
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bonus-links · 7 months ago
Note
Commentary on the update? 🥺
YEAHH
i sketched this page forgetting that the SS Linebeck was gonna be visible at the dock and even went to the trouble of drawing the other side of Outset in the distance on one of the panels before i realized HAHA and then proceeded to grudgingly draw the side of the ship over and over
sorry about the lack of Ayrll lines, there just wasn't much opportunity with everything else I needed to get through this update. we'll see more of her I promise o7
i was convinced to keep the "he frow up" and "link's fuckass sword" gags in so i'm glad everyone's enjoying those HAHA
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The waterfall BG in the panel of Tetra recognizing the sword is the same one as the stone Ganondorf from pt. 3. You might also notice that tiny Wake from Tetra's last memory of the sword has a bloody eye. Wonder how that happened
Everyone joking abt Linebeck rizzing Gran Gran last update I was like wait. just wait
Lots of ppl interpreted Slate introducing himself as Link as him not getting the social cue, which I think is a great way to interpret it lol. but also consider: he totally noticed and just decided not to lie anyway.
I tried to fill gran gran's house with pictographs Wake might have taken and little gifts Wake might have brought back for her from his adventures (within reason, all these backgrounds were a lot of work HAHA). There's Wake and Ayrll on Ice Ring Isle, and Gran Gran's even got her own korok pinwheel!
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that's all!! this was a fun update, I love reading everyone's comments :-)
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hsr-writing · 2 months ago
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Dan Heng x reader, sfw, fluff focused.
One of the first things you notice about Dan Heng is that he's touch starved. He reacts to casual affection with a kind of stiff alarm you recognize, and you bet anything that, if he was the type to talk about it, he gets overwhelmed easily by it.
He's better with affectionate words, more practiced at relaxing into it and letting himself enjoy and play along. He smiles when March drags him into banter, preens subtly when Himeko or Welt talks about his work.
It's all incredibly, agonizingly endearing.
You start slow, spending time in the Archives reading, a double win of getting to learn things you assume you've forgotten and getting to spend time around Dan Heng.
Spending time with him in silence slowly evolves into asking him questions, watching him perk up and infodump about whatever topic you chose. You like how he looks then, his eyes bright and interested.
You think he's started picking up on the fact that you're befriending him like one would coax a feral cat. Slow exposure turning into coaxing interactions. Dan Heng's a smart guy, so you're not surprised. You're just thankful he seems to enjoy it.
It's a surprise the first time he seeks you out. You're still getting used to having a room of your own, having slept on the couches in the main car of the train. You look up when you hear the door open, expecting March or Himeko checking on you.
You wonder what your face looks like, to him. Does he think the way your eyes widen in surprise is endearing? Does he find the excited smile or the way you perk up when you see him endearing? You hope so.
He's carrying a data pad as he steps inside, and you're pleasantly surprised when he joins you on the couch you've got into the corner of the room. He settles next to you, saying nothing as he turns on the data pad and starts reading.
You look back down at your phone, biting back your smile as Dan Heng's shoulder presses against yours.
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The first time you work up the courage to hold his hand you think your heart is going to beat out of your chest. It feels like such a big risk; what if he pulls away? What if stops spending time with you? What if, what if, what if...
You're leaning against each other, more sprawled than sitting. He's on his data pad, but when you peeked over at him he was on the intranet. You've been grinding materials in your game, occasionally assisted by another player you think might be Silver Wolf.
It's comfortable, the lights and atmosphere of your room currently designed to mimic a thunderstorm, and you're both curled in a mess of blankets and soft pillows that March jokes about being more like a nest than a lounge area.
You tab out of your game, nervous and wanting to focus, then reach over and casually link your pinky with his. He glances down briefly, then turns his attention back to his pad as he twists his hand and takes your hand in his. He laces his fingers through yours, and you can feel yourself blush.
It's so casual, like it's natural for him, like he holds your hand all the time. You realize you're beaming at your phone, the screen gone dark as you zoned out. You wake it up again, but in that moment before the screen goes bright , you catch a glimpse of Dan Heng in the dark reflection.
He's smiling.
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The first time he kisses you it's out of desperate relief. You got separated while trailblazing a small planet, driven apart by enemies until you're not sure where the others are, anymore.
Dan Heng was within earshot, though, because he heard you scream when an enemy caught you by surprise with a lightning attack, the literal shock taking away your usual ability to keep quiet.
You're not sure if the scream sounded especially bad, or if it was just because you're not usually one to scream from pain (you prefer to stifle and hide it away), but Dan Heng is pale when he comes skidding around the corner.
You're standing among the wreckage of the fight, your enemies having run off, when you look up at him. Your fingers feel a little numb and tingly at the same time, but you think that's all the side effect from the hit you took
Until Dan Heng's hands are on your cheeks, pulling you close and kissing you like he thought he'd never get to. Your first thought is that you're hallucinating, you've taken one too many hits to the head and now you're imagining things that will never happen.
But then Dan Heng is pulling away, his cheeks flushing red at his own actions, embarrassed and flustered and caught off guard by himself. You don't know it, but you're looking at him with something akin to awe, like he's done something miraculous and not just kissed you on a fearful whim.
He's trying to think of something, anything, to say when another group of enemies round the corner.
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You don't really remember how the conversation goes, anxiety plaguing your thoughts and making it hard to focus, but you know it went well because Dan Heng has you pulled close, kissing you languidly.
You sigh in bliss, your hands moving from where you gripped the front of his coat so you can wind them around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. You take the opportunity to threads you fingers in his hair, just as silky as it looks, and let out a shaky sigh at the way he groans softly.
You're especially thankful for the comfortable corner nook, now. There's nothing like lounging and making out with your boyfriend someplace soft and familiar. It happens in the Archives sometimes too, but you've noticed that Dan Heng prefers your room.
It's probably a distraction thing, but you like to think it's because your room is a safe space for him. That you're a safe place for him.
He pulls away for a moment, taking a shaking breath as he presses his forehead against yours. You nearly coo at him, choosing instead to rub your thumb over the top of his spine and savor how the small action makes him melt.
He ducks his head, pressing you back into the couch cushions as he nuzzles his face into your neck. He presses a feather light kiss just under your ear, making you shiver and laugh, and you marvel at how you can feel his smile against your skin.
March ends up finding you like that, clinging together in a mess of blankets and pillows, when she comes to find you for dinner. She pauses upon seeing you, smiling and pulling out her camera to take a picture. She silently sends it to Himeko, then cheerfully wakes you up.
Dan Heng hums against your neck as he wakes up, struggling to pull himself out of sleep. March makes a big deal of the two of you taking a nap without her, then congratulates you both on finally noticing your feelings.
It feels like belonging. Like home.
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