#like we see him as a socially awkward social climber | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

samanthadalton · 5 years ago

Text

Truth or dare

(this is loosely based on the truth or dare scene from the freshman where mc and kaitlyn kissed for the first time)

sorry if it sucks im still getting used to writing 😬😬

Pairing: poppy x mc (Bea)

warnings: i’m not sure there’s any actual warnings except for any implied sex near the end

tag list: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in (if you wanna be tagged in any future writings just ask)

word count: i have no idea tbh i got carried away

You were lying on the couch in your dorm room scrolling through instagram trying to find some entertainment since Zoey apologetically told you she’s ditching your saturday plans of drinking wine and binge-watching how to get away with murder since she had a hot date with one of the guys on the football team. You find yourself scrolling through Poppy’s instagram- not because you liked her or anything- i mean liking Poppy your number 1 enemy?? that was a big hell no 👁👄👁- you were just merely curious about her new brand deal with Read My Lips since Veronica mentioned that the brand in reality was pretty crap and made both her and Poppy break out like crazy.

Speaking (or thinking really) of the devil, you suddenly get a text from Veronica:

V.: Hey social climber you got any plans tonight 👀

you: not really no, why? you finally taking me up on my offer 😉

V.: You wish Farmsville, come over to the sorority tonight

you: still sounds like you want me

V.: Guess you’ll have to come and find out 💋

You put your phone down and internally debate with yourself as to whether or not you should go since this is the first time Veronica has ever asked to hang out with you and you’re not sure about her intentions. ‘Well she’s hot and wants me there so I should go’ You dismiss any negative thoughts from your head and decide to head over to the sorority house dressed casually in a pair of dark blue ripped jeans and a black cropped t-shirt and black vans- you didn’t forget to wear your super sexy black laced lingerie since anything could happen tonight, except you didn’t expect this outcome....

You text Veronica as you make your way to the sorority and she texts you back with a thumbs up and tells you to just make your way inside and meet her in the living room. You begin to worry a little since you’re not sure if the rest of the Zeta girls will be at the house, and you were kinda hoping to have a chilled out night with Veronica or at least some fun without anyone else knowing about it.

You enter the house and make your way into the living room where you see a bunch of the zeta girls sitting in a circle, some sitting on the sofa while others are on the floor with pillows and blankets to make themselves more comfortable. Your mind stutters because this isn’t exactly what you were expecting but you’re soon pulled out of your thoughts when Veronica grabs you by your arms and drags you into the middle of the room, “Hughes you made it!” she squeaks.

“Veronica what the hell, what’s going o-“

“What the hell is she doing here?” You already know who it is judging by the cutthroat tone, though she doesn’t raise her voice, Poppy Min Sinclair has the ability to slice through anything just using her words. Without missing a beat Veronica loops her arms through yours and spins you around to face the queen of belvoire herself.

“I invited her here, I thought it would be more fun to include someone who isn’t part of the sorority”

“So you thought to invite wannabee Hughes” Poppy crosses her arms and of course her trusty little pup is there too and a second later she crosses her arms too.

“Eww Veronica you can’t just invite random people who knows what farm diseases she has”

You roll your eyes at Chloe, I mean seriously is that the best she can come up with? You step forward and Veronica lets go of your arm.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but if this is meant to be some weird hazing or sorority prank I don’t wanna be a part of it”

“Don’t worry Bea, we are just playing truth or dare” Taylor squeaks out, you turn and face her, bless the poor girl she looks like she’s about to combust from embarrassment after Poppy clears her throat.

Poppy looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “shut up Tess, but colour me intrigued let’s see what kind of secrets Farmsville is hiding��

She begins looking at you with a little curiousity and starts to take in your outfit, “someone get her some proper clothes if she’s going to stay”

Its only then you realise that the zeta girls aren’t wearing their usual preppy outfits but are all wearing some cute nightwear and you realise you stick out like a sore thumb.

“Don’t worry P, since I invited her i’ll get her some clothes” Veronica takes hold of your arms and pulls you to her room.

After finding some suitable clothing for you (a white silk tank top with a cute lace around the neckline and some pink silk shorts) Veronica leaves you in her room to get changed and soon you make your way back downstairs to the circle where the girls are casually drinking wine in some very expensive looking crystal glasses.

“Tess, get Farmsville a drink” Poppy practically barks and Taylor runs to grab you a glass. You sit on the floor next to Veronica while Poppy and Chloe sit opposite you on the sofa and the other girls fill up the rest of the circle.

Once everyone begins drinking, Poppy abruptly claps her hands together and all the girls lift up their heads to look at the blonde, “now ladies we can finally begin” her eyes move to yours “and since it’s wannabee’s first time here you start, truth or dare”.

gulp.

If you choose truth, Poppy has the chance to ask you anything but if you pick dare she could make you do anything, you decide to pick the safest (or the safer one) option and choose

“truth”

Poppy’s eyes bore into yours while she thinks of a question, however Chloe hiccups (she must be a total lightweight bc she already seems kinda drunk) and speaks out “do you have a crush on Professor Kingsley, I see the way you look at her”

Poppy looks slightly annoyed that Chloe took her opportunity to ask you a question and covertly digs her nails into Chloe whose face just turns bright pink.

You on the other hand begin sweating a little since you can’t exactly be too truthful and tell them you slept with her before the school year began so you give a careful smile and answer, “I mean she is hot who wouldn’t have a crush on her”

The rest of the girls already seem bored since the answer wasn’t exactly satisfying so you turn to Veronica

“I guess it’s my turn to ask, truth or dare”

.....

After a bunch of rounds of truth or dare, in which you learnt that Taylor has some really weird sex fantasies and Chloe once knocked herself out by walking into a lamppost, while Veronica was forced to upload a picture of herself pretending to throw up in the toilet and a few of the other girls were forced to either eat a bunch of chillies and prank call Dean Steinhelm, it’s finally Poppy’s turn.

“I think I should ask Poppy, truth or dare” you smirk smugly at the blonde while she just looks unimpressed and merely just shrugs

“Go ahead Hughes, I choose truth”

You think carefully, I mean you could ask her anything, however there’s one thing that’s been eating up your mind and you just have to ask

“Do you really love Bradley”

Poppy just scoffs, “seriously? that’s what you wanted to waste your question on?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of your angle since she knows you could’ve literally asked her anything. she keeps her answer short and unfulfilling, “It’s a new relationship so I wouldn’t say I love him”

And then she just doesn’t say anything else, she looks down at her drink and carefully sips her wine while you just stare at her trying to calculate what you can take from her answer.

Veronica snaps you out of your thoughts and slightly slurs her words, “My turn Hughes, truth or dare?”

“dare”

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room”

damnit. one thing you were trying to avoid was awkward and/or forced intimacy or contact with these girls. Your eyes shift between each girl trying to buy some time before you’re expected to make a move.

Your eyes fall on Poppy’s and as your eyes meet, her dark brown eyes open wide when she realises what you’re thinking. But she doesn’t look mad or disgusted, instead she looks kinda intrigued and a little smirk appears on her face like she’s flattered you chose her.

You crawl over to the sofa where Poppy is sitting and all eyes are on you now.

“Well indulge me Miss Min Sinclair?” You give Poppy a cheeky little wink and she visibly blushes.

“Shut up Hughes don’t make it awkward, it’s just a kiss”

You deflate a little, “right, it’s just a kiss”

You lean up a little to reach the blonde’s lips and you tentatively brush your lips against one another.

‘Damn her lips are soft’ you think to yourself and when you suddenly get a taste of her strawberry lipgloss you begin to lose control. You open your mouth to kiss her harder while Poppy takes a sharp breath and opens her mouth to allow your tongue inside her mouth. She moans a little and you swear it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard and you kiss her even harder, lips pressing together full of passion. You finally break apart from the kiss, both gasping for the much needed air and you both stare intensely at each other momentarily forgetting where you are.

The spell is broken by someone clearing their throat and you turn to see Veronica frowning slightly, “damn I wish I had my phone right now, that was so hot my Veronicats would’ve loved that”

You and Poppy awkwardly look at each other and both blushing furiously, you look away simultaneously and you make your way back to your side of the circle.

You think to yourself ‘what the hell was that’ while Poppy already looks like she’s ready to move on. With a flip of her hair she clears her throat, “well it’s pretty obvious I’m the hottest one here so I don’t blame Farmsville for wanting to get a taste.”

You think to yourself ‘that was more than a taste’. While reeling back from the epic kiss you don’t even have a comeback but luckily drunk Chloe is there to rescue you from this awkward moment by shouting “MY TURN!”

The rest of the night seems to go on without anything else as scandalous as that kiss happening, excluding Chloe falling face down on the floor when she was trying to get to the bathroom and eventually the zeta girls begin to make their way to bed after drinking way too much.

You’re left with only Veronica and Poppy in the living room and when you get up to stand you feel a little dizzy, you blink crazily and groan “damn i think i drank way too much”

“It’s cool Hughes you can crash on the couch tonight there’s no way you can get back to your dorm like this” and with that Veronica pats your back and makes her way to her room leaving you alone with Poppy.

Poppy just sits on the sofa watching Veronica leave and you clear your throat which gets her attention. She turns her head to look at you, and her eyes check you out, almost like she’s contemplating.

You try and dispell some of the awkwardness since Poppy is just staring at you and you jokingly say “well that kiss was pretty good huh?”

Poppy pouts her lips a little and raises one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you, “just pretty good?” her tone almost teasing.

You almost falter a little in your gaze, was Poppy flirting with you or was it just the alcohol making you delirious? “Well, considering it was cut short and there was an entire audience watching us I guess it wasn’t exactly my best”

“Oh? So you think you can do better than that?” Poppy slowly stands and walks towards you, you swear that she juts her hips a little as she makes her way to stand right in front of you.

You begin to feel flustered and just manage to gape your mouth open with no words coming out of it. Poppy simply smirks at your bewildered expression while her fingers slowly trail up your arm and she leans in and whispers into your ear, “why don’t you show me”

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #i hope this doesn’t suck

202 notes · View notes

greywindys · 3 years ago

Note

How exactly is TomGreg like 2Doc? I've never seen Succession, but this duo does sound interesting because of the comparisons you have drawn.

It's going to be hard to describe this without writing out the entire plot, but I will try. It's not a perfect fit. If anything, there is more complexity to TomGreg, both between the two characters and in the external environment in which they exist. I'll also preface this by saying that I'm not like, a hardcore fan of them. I enjoy the memes, think pieces, photosets etc, but full disclosure, I have yet to read a fic or daydream my own fic ideas. But I like to think I pay attention as a viewer. Still, this assessment is open to discussion.

ANYHOW

IMO, the most similarities exist between 2D and Greg. On a purely aesthetic level, the actor who plays Greg is like, comically tall - almost 7 feet, and idet that's an exaggeration. The show plays off of that and portrays him as this giant, bumbling, awkward idiot. Additionally, his character is also used in the beginning as one of the “outsiders” in that he’s just a guy playing the nepotism card to get a job, but has never really experienced true wealth. At the same time, his character is the most relatable to most viewers starting out because you’re like, “Hey, I wouldn’t know what I was doing or how to interact with these rich people either! Greg is just like me!”...initially. It’s also important to note that pre-Waystar, Greg was directionless, slacked off at the jobs he had. 2D may not have been as much of a fuck up, but he similarly wasn’t thinking about his future much, and is often thought of in Gorillaz as “the normal one” who a lot of people project onto.

The similarities continue when Greg meets Tom. Tom is also an “outsider” to some degree in that he’s marrying into the family and eager to earn acceptance and status (though I also genuinely believe he loves Shiv but that’s a different discussion). Tom is older and offers to take Greg under his wing and guide him to success with his wisdom and work experience, so Greg accepts...seems nice, right? Wrong! Tom bullies and messes with Greg as soon as they start working together. He manipulates him into being involved in a company cover-up so that he can take the fall for the entire thing if need be. He says and does things to make him uncomfortable. All of this reminds me of Murdoc. They both also have over the top personalities that can make you cringe.

We also see, simultaneously, that Tom bullies Greg because he’s the only Roy he can get away with doing this to. Tom’s behavior is a response to the powerlessness he feels in his marriage - Shiv doesn’t really show a lot of care for his feelings...she asks for an open marriage on their wedding night, offers him as a possibility to go to jail, puts her own professional interests ahead of his even if that means sabotaging him - and the powerlessness he feels in the company. We don’t see Murdoc’s experience being bullied by his father, brother, classmates etc onscreen in Gorillaz, but we also know he takes a lot this past baggage out on 2D because 2D is also the only one in the band he can bully (and also because of other baggage). It’s a similar situation to me only Tom’s experience happens in the present while Murdoc’s happened in the past.

As a result, both become kind of obsessed with the person they’re bullying and act ridiculously about it. I’d write out examples, but it’s too hard to describe without writing paragraphs upon paragraphs of plot to give you the full context. I think one area where TomGreg differs from 2Doc is that the show has gone to greater lengths to convey the humanity in both characters and balance out their relationship. Despite his behavior, Tom has acted selflessly to protect Greg, and Greg has shown he cares about Tom. The show doesn’t shy away from showing Greg’s flaws either. Yes, he’s awkward, but he also become a bit of a fuckboy and is consistently shown to be a social climber with no backbone who will play both sides. They’re still dysfunctional and unhealthy for each other, but fans don’t turn it into abuse porn the way a lot of 2Doc fans do (blegh). So even if it’s not really my shipon Succession, I do think it’s a better, more nuanced ship compared to 2Doc in that regard.

I could go on, but this is already like a million paragraphs long. I will leave you with this exchange though - When Tom asks Greg if he had ever heard of Nero and Sporus, Greg responds by saying “This is not IP I’m familiar with” (IP being “intellectual property”)....and idk, he was just so honestly off the mark in what he thought Tom was talking about, so oblivious to his impending meltdown in his office...I found that entire scene very 2Doc.

#asks.#Anonymous #I probably should have made a venn diagram #it would have made everything a lot easier

6 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 5 years ago

Note

12 for yandere list for Felix would be so good. If you don't mind I mean...

12. “Just tell me their name and I’ll make this all better.”

Usually, your words flowed without filter when you returned home. Living with Felix was to take on the responsibility of filling a decent amount of dead air, and you hardly ever lacked material to regale him with over dinner. Not to mention your carefully cultivated talent of drawing him into a conversation, something you prided yourself on.

But tonight, there were too many things that needed to be said for you to speak. You knew that your silence was damning. You knew that it said more than you ever could, given a harsh voice by the uncomfortable contrast. You knew these things and loathed and loved it in equal measure because, while it was too much to hope that Felix would never find out, you desperately wanted a few more of these awkward, blessedly silent minutes before he did.

But he wasn’t nearly that stupid and you were a terrible liar.

“What's the matter with you tonight?” Felix asked, his voice holding an edge of impatient exasperation, as if he’d been waiting a while to speak up. There was a sweet kind of concern, too, even if he did well to hide it. “Usually I can’t get you to stop talking. Not that I mind that. It’s better than sitting here watching you frown at your food.”

“Nothing’s the matter,” you said, taking another stab at your dinner without much enthusiasm. “I guess I’m just... Worn out.”

“Really,” Felix said, deadpan with his displeasure. It made you wince, peeking up at his expression from beneath your lashes. As you’d expect, his mouth was drawn in a frown, one eyebrow arched to compliment the implied question. You couldn’t help but feel that there was something else in that expression. One of the reasons for your anxiety, for your dread of him asking such a simple question. What had happened earlier that day weighed heavily on your mind. Not because of what had been said or how you felt about it, but because of the result you anticipated.

It wasn’t like you were afraid of Felix, but the feeling was close enough to make your stomach twist in unhappiness, like it was a betrayal to him. You wanted so badly to write it off. Felix was just overprotective. That was understandable, after all he’d been through.

But sometimes it was frightening. He was frightening. It was as if your pain had an odd effect on the world, an unspoken law of retribution.

Sometimes your skin bristled with goosebumps as you averted your eyes to avoid meeting Felix’s directly because the intensity of his gaze was enough to flay skin from bone, to make your limbs feel cold.

Sometimes he held you just a little too tightly, hiding in the dark to tell you things just a touch off beat, stumbling around the subject of love that still occasionally gave him pause with words establishing his unquestionable claim on you anew.

You weren’t afraid of Felix, but there was something dark simmering below the surface of the man you loved. An open wound that had never seen treatment. That was why, even though you knew he’d learn about it regardless, you shook your head. “It’s silly. I’m fine, really.”

“Oh, clearly,” Felix quipped. He sighed a moment later, shaking his head. “Tell me or don’t but I’d rather you didn’t lie about it.”

You felt your shoulders wilt a bit. There was no malice in his voice. Even if you worried about what laid beneath, Felix was just being kind. You knew full well that he worried. It made you feel guilty.

“You know how it is. How nobles are, I mean,” you said, thinking of a way to phrase it all in a way that would make it seem petty. Insignificant. “They can be pretty awful sometimes. But it’s fine, I can handle it. I don’t even know why I’m so upset, I already knew how they felt.”

“Did someone say something to you?” Felix asked. His tone had shifted, going from frustrated to sharp. You met his eyes. They were intense, now, lurching that worried pit of anxiety upwards with a deeply unsettling tug.

“Yes, but it’s not a huge deal,” you said, once again averting your eyes, trying to downplay it.

“Obviously it is,” Felix responded sharply. Then, as if in apology for his harsh reaction, he added, “I won’t be able to help you unless you tell me.”

Help. That was one way to put it. As the head of House Fraldarius, Felix had a great deal of sway. But it wasn’t just that. People forget who Felix was. The war was over, Felix wasn’t the harsh blade of the kingdom who took out enemies as a demon on the field. On the days where he let you hold his calloused hand as you walked the streets of the newly flourishing Fhirdiad and when he sat through endless tedious councils with the newly forged government, he was the kindest version of himself. So people forgot.

Fools.

The man who had approached you was from Alliance territory and had a greasy smile and hot breath. He laughed at your disgusted reaction to his proposition, even laughing when you twisted his arm for trying to touch you. A scrappy, irreverent sort of man. The worst that the nobility had to offer. And right then, you had felt sorry for him.

“Since we married, I, of course, am a lot higher rank than before,” you began to explain, knowing it was a losing battle to keep silent. Felix would find out anyway, he always did. “So the nobles defer to me, but they all know I was born a commoner. Some of them don’t like that, I guess. They see me as a social climber, that I married you for the title. So some of them think I would do anything to get ahead. So they... Make offers, I guess. Thinking that I’ll... You know...” You shrugged, trying to skirt around the words themselves to make it sound less threatening. When you looked up, whatever attempt you’d been about to make to further downplay the interaction caught in your throat.

Once, you had fallen into the river at the precipice of spring, when the beds were filled to the brim and the water gushed fast with melting mountain snow. You were lucky to get out, as rivers like were more like than not to freeze your body blue as they dragged you into the dark. As it was, you’d come away shaken to your core and shivering for days, panicked whenever you remembered the water in your lungs or the terror of the fall. Something of that childhood horror was pulled to the surface by the expression Felix wore.

“I see,” he said. “So you were approached with an offer to help you “get ahead” in exchange for a sexual favor. That’s what you were afraid to tell me.” His tone was like tempered steel, the questions made into statements by his even voice. Felix’s eyes weren’t pointedly mad at you, although the irritation was clear. He never leveled the truly frightening emotions at you.

“I wasn’t afraid,” you said. A lie. You had been afraid. Afraid of this. Your realization, the reason why you had felt sorry for that foolish nobleman, the reason anxiety sunk like an anchor of pure dread into the pit of your stomach. “Felix, like I said, it’s fine. I twisted his arm when he tried to touch me-”

“He tried to touch you?”

"But he didn’t,” you quickly amended, your voice very nearly pleading now. “I’m sure he got the message, so it’s fine. Right?”

“Sure,” Felix said, his face a mask of stoicism and voice unyielding. Anger burned in his eyes, a fiery complement to the stony expression he’d adopted. “Just tell me his name and I’ll make this all better.”

#Anonymous #felix fraldarius #felix fraldarius x reader #felix x reader #fe felix x reader #yandere #fe felix #fire emblem three houses #FE3H #my writing #haha back in the saddle kinda #excited to work on these more

173 notes · View notes

thehoneybuzz · 4 years ago

Text

Chasing Baker

My Nana was my greatest adversary.

In an otherwise charmed life, Nana was an immovable force and the only legitimate challenger to my willpower. Not without the warmth one would expect from a grandmother, Nana could be sharp - like a sun-warmed pane of glass. Lesser hearts might have bent to me when I requested accommodation - but not Nana. Nana set a firm bedtime, insisted on efficient tooth brushing, and rather than negotiate with hair tangles, made short work of them in single, swift wrenches when brushing your hair. No nonsense. When you stayed with her - in one of two twin beds in a room made precisely for grandchildren - you often found yourself in bed with the lights out, with no real memory of having gotten there, swept away in the tide of your sheets. Nana was uncompromising, and no arena was more suited to our mutual stubbornness as the dinner table.

I grew up a notoriously picky eater. After a weekend at my Uncle Jerry's, my mom received a hardcover copy of "The Strong-Willed Child" from him as a gift. He had spanked me for not eating chicken nuggets. As evident by its title, the book was meant to coach my mother on parenting strategies for mitigating my innate obstinance. This would not be the only copy of the book my mother received. Though, I think she could have written one by the time I turned 4. I simply refused to eat the things I didn't like, and that was a long list.

A relative once applauded - clapped his hands together in joy- upon learning that I had graduated from having the crusts cut off my bread to full-blown sandwich eating. The peanut butter and honey sandwich was my signature dish and an absolute staple. I'd like to say I've grown out of it - and I've certainly grown having tried llama steak in Peru, lamb heart at the table of a Lebanese family, and Greenland shark in an Icelandic cafe - but it took me a long time to let go of my habits and permit myself to try, and it took some coaxing. My preferences ran deep.

My diet from ages six through eleven included Eggo waffles, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, an assortment of cereals, a handful of specific fruits and vegetables, and the occasional steak when mom thought my iron was low. My mom - on the advice of a pediatrician who told her that if she force-fed me, I'd develop an eating disorder - catered to this preference. Nana did not. They must have been seeing different pediatricians.

Nana took the clear your plate approach - The approach driven by reward and consequence. Finish your plate, cookies delivered. Fail to try, become hungry and hungrier still as dessert passes you by. I took to swallowing food whole, and my mom took to sending me with granola bars on visitations. She'd line the interior of my suitcase like we were smuggling drugs. I'll admit it was an unusual form of contraband, but the measure seemed necessary in a divorced child's duplicitous world. What my mom saw as nourishment, my Dad might see as undermined parenting strategy even under the best of circumstances - which they often weren't. I was hungry, so decided it best to keep things a secret and wrappers out of the trash.

Despite Nana's apparent best efforts, I avoided the eating disorder. Thanks to my mom, I avoided most foods until my early 20s. I don't know who was right. What I know for certain is that I was loved.

When I sat down with Nana after my trip to Mt. Baker, she clutched her heart as she said. "Ally - to think about you as this little girl - and that you would only eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches - to think of you climbing mountains…" she shakes her head, "… well I just can't believe it."

I started to laugh and asked her, "Want to know the best part?"

She nodded, smile in her eyes, full of that sunny warmth - playful and kaleidoscopic.

"I ate peanut butter and honey sandwiches up and down the side of that mountain, Nana," I told her, laughing, and then we laughed together. Growing up is fun, I thought, especially in moments like this.

Laughing with your grandmother is a gift you receive in exchange for time, and it is a beautiful gift indeed. Here is a woman who bathed you, clothed you, fed you - and by the time you're old enough to understand the magnitude of the life she held before all that, she is often gone. I'm lucky to have this time. Nana is 90 years old now, and my mother's mother passed at 74. I never got to have the conversations I wanted to have with my grandmother, who died. To ask her questions like, 'Who were you?' 'What lifetimes made up the love you gave so effortlessly away?'

There is something about mountain climbing that makes you consider those kinds of questions in real-time. There is something about mountain climbing that makes you feel as if you are in the process of 'becoming.' So when, at the parking lot of Grandy Creek Grocery, I met my fellow climbers and our guides - there was a feeling of anticipation and nervousness about who I'd be sharing that story with. Dropping me off, my mom described it like the first day of kindergarten. The first person I met was Sharon.

I had been worried about Sharon. Weeks before, on the pre-trip Zoom call, she stood out from the digital crowd as the most visibly senior person there. Sharon did not look old - she looked undoubtedly the oldest. I think this is an important distinction - particularly to Sharon. I remember thinking - "I hope she is not on my trip because I'm worried she will show me down." A very judgmental thought and the universe saw to its reckoning. Sharon surprised the hell out of me.

She paced the parking lot, and I jumped out of my rig to greet her. We quickly began commiserating. Baker would be her first mountain. I had Mount St. Helens under my belt, but it's not much in the way of experience. We talked about our training plan, recounting long drives to taller places. Sharon was from Wisconsin, and she had to drive 45 minutes to get to peaks at 3,000 - the same as me in Eastern Washington. We had a lot in common. Where I ran, she had been hiking with weight and jogging. Sharon wasn't afraid of hard work. On our drive to the trailhead, I learned that she had just lost 75 pounds last year. I learned later that when Sharon signed up for this climb, she hadn't told anyone in her family she was doing it. She was 62 years old and had never once traveled alone. What on earth possessed her to climb a mountain? I'd be afraid of that question, too.

Sharon eventually fessed up to her family and made the trip official. That's how we found ourselves on the side of a mountain together. I'm embarrassed to have been so fundamentally wrong - but my confession is not without meaning, and I learned an important lesson. Never underestimate a Sharon.

When Melissa, our guide, described Mt. Baker for the first time, she called it by its indigenous name, Komo Kulshan. She then gave us its epithet - "The Great White Watcher." Having now met Kulshan face to face, I can tell you that's precisely how he feels. The summit looms as you navigate through the trees. Stoic in the face of the wilderness that surrounds him. Ice cold, he waits. In the Lummi language, he's called 'white sentinel.' He is persistent, vigilant, and watching.

I focused my nervous energy on preparing to meet this mountain by learning what I could about him. I learned that Mt. Baker is 10,781 feet tall, an active volcano, and the second most glaciated mountain in the continental united states (Rainier's got it beat, and you don't count Alaska). It's a formidable mountain, known - as nearly all alpine environments are - for its quickly changing conditions and the perils of its geology. This all, somehow, frightened me less than the thought of meeting Melissa Arnot-Reid. Her legend loomed not in the Cascades - where only a single peak resides above the threshold of 14,000 feet by which the Rockies measure their formidable "fourteeners." Melissa's legend loomed as large as Everest, on who's summit she has been six times - the only American woman to summit without the use of supplemental oxygen and survive. 29,032 feet. Melissa was someone I wanted to learn from, and I was scared shitless of her by reputation.

Suffering a bit of social awkwardness around celebrities, I prepared to meet Melissa by seeking to learn nothing about her at all. The antithesis of my mountain strategy - I told myself our experience would be what it was when we met on the mountain. My job was to learn - to ask my questions courageously - and be vulnerable and bold in seeking truth. I spent a fair bit of time wondering if she might be an ass hole, too. The age-old adage, "don't meet your heroes," drifted in and out of my mind.

In the last 15 minutes of our drive to Grandy's, my mom started reading Melissa's Wikipedia page aloud to me as I navigated the road, undoing months of my concerted preparation. I let her continue, greedy for information. "It says she trains by depriving herself of things - that she'll go without food and water."

"Probably a good idea if you're ever going to be stuck on the side of a mountain without it," I told her. I braced myself for a response. In the past few months, my mother had a growing sensitivity around topics that might suggest I could die on the side of a mountain. Admitting, so blatantly, that mountain climbing was a dangerous sport left me vulnerable to excessive mothering accompanied by exclamations of "Don't you dare!" Instead, my mom sort of nodded and continued, "I'm surprised her baby came out healthy."

My brow furrowed. I hated my mother for saying it. I had avoided a lecture from the mother of the mountaineer but failed to account for the mother of the daughter aged-almost-thirty. My uterus is a topic of conversation around my mother's table. Apparently, so was Melissas. Not wanting to discuss either, I let my mother's comment go unchecked as she continued to list accomplishments. "This article says she's focused on business, not emotions. That she is an incredible problem-solver." Now her reports felt more like cheating - it felt like an unfair advantage to meet someone armed with publicly available information about them. When you Google "Allyson Tanzer," you won't find much about my disposition under pressure. I told my mom it was time to focus and turned up the music.

When we parked, and I went to introduce myself to Melissa, three things happened. As I introduced myself, she first quickly let me know that she would not be giving out hugs due to the pandemic. Then, taking my hand in a firm grip, Melissa detailed that she and our other guide, Adrienne, had critical guide business to discuss and would be with us in a moment. She reported being thrilled to be meeting us as she quickly dropped my hand. Within thirty seconds, I was apologizing profusely and backing my way into the grocery. What can I say - first time formally climbing mountains, and I wasn't sure of the protocol. I fiddled with a bag of Cheetohs and continued to hope that she wasn't just an ass hole.

I went to the bathroom for something to do and remembered what my mother said. Task-oriented. I figured Melissa probably didn't hate me, after all. Despite my earlier misgivings, I was grateful to know a bit about her character, regardless of how 'honestly' that information was obtained. Thanks, Mom.

Our climb began. We left Grandy's in a caravan and parked near 3000' at the winter routes trailhead. On the first day, you ascend to 6000' and establish camp. You carry about 40 pounds, walking 1 mile and about 1000 vertical feet per hour, stopping for 15-minute breaks in those intervals. Conditions are warm, which means you're doing something the mountaineers call "post-holing" - ramming deep holes (as if for a fence post) into the ground as you step through snow that's washed out underneath. It's slow-going and rigorous. An hour and a half in, Melissa reports that we're standing in the location where she usually takes the first break. Unseasonably warm weather with a heavy snow accumulation has made for an exciting start.

You walk along a canyon ridge formed by a retreating glacier. You realize that time here is not measured in the same cadence that it's known to you. Mountains measure time in millennium, not decades. The formations of rock are carved by years, not minutes. The ground holds a history you can't conceive of - an ancient history of rock and ice. You are constantly struck by feeling small both physically and in your very chronology. I spent the first day happily in awe.

At camp, you maintain - guides (and playfully designated junior guides), boil snow, establish a base, dig a toilet. You assess whether or not you need to poop in a bag and carry it down the mountain with you as you try - for the first time - a rehydrated meal claiming to be chili Mac and cheese. Melissa teaches us how to walk on rope over a glacier. I try to mimic her knots. She redefines your concept of efficiency - breathlessly describing a packing order that accounts for calorie intake, warmth requirements and weight distribution - Every contingency considered. When I win the Ice Ax Rodeo by landing my thrown ax in a particular configuration - all is right in the world. Melissa is a drill sergeant giving instruction. She outlines the next minute - next five minutes - next hour - next day.

Her matter-of-fact nature reminds me of something. When I gave my parents a ride in an airplane for the first time with me as the pilot in command, I provided them near the same briefing as we were parked on the ramp. It ended dramatically with, "And if anything should happen, you have to exit the aircraft first in the following fashion." At which point I launched myself from the plane. I wanted them to be prepared to fight their instincts to protect me. I’m the only pilot on board - and my job is to protect my passengers, no exceptions. They both described a sense of foreboding and peace at the demonstration. It’s precisely how I felt when Melissa explained how she would be rescuing herself from a crevasse. “If you fall, I get you out. If I fall, I get myself out, but I need your help as an anchor to do so.” She took the approach of coaching us in only what we needed for the next challenge. We would learn crevasse rescue on a need to know basis. At Grandy’s, she told us to expect 48 hours of endurance. At camp, we’re at hour 9. She painted a picture of the following day.

"We'll begin between 11, and 2 am. Expect switchbacks up the glacier, a series of flats, and gains over the next hour. In 3.5 miles, we'll gain an additional 2000 feet - meandering a path through the glacier's crevasses, and it will gradually become steeper over time. About 1.5 miles to the summit, we'll hit the Easton glacier culminating in the Roman Wall. Then, because God has a sense of humor, you have a long flat walk to the summit after the steepest portion. All said it will take us between 5-7 hours to the top."

Frankly, it was just about as simple as that.

My eyes opened at 11:50 pm to the sound of movement outside the tent. Melissa had coached us here, too. "You may not be sleeping," she told us as we readied for 'lights out.' Days from the summer solstice, the sun burned brightly above us at 7 pm. "Remember that you don't need sleep; you need rest. That's what you're getting here at camp. You're horizontal; your feet are out of your boots. Close your eyes, and know you're getting what you need." Felt like a lie, but sure enough, with two hours of sleep, I couldn't describe myself as tired.

I did, however, feel cold. Chilly night temperatures had crept into our tent, and dressing for the day was arduous. I knew to keep my clothes in my sleeping bag. It was a trick I learned from a friend made trekking in the Andes for dressing in the cold. I knew to shorten my trekking poles while climbing, thanks to my guide on that same trek. I'd be leaving my trekking poles behind today, though. Ice axes only. We divide into rope teams. The race begins, but there's no starting pistol - only wind.

Fifteen minutes into our climb and we're struggling to find the rhythm. I'm still shaking the bleariness of the cold. The rope between climbers takes on an interesting dynamic. While it connects you to your fellow climber, it also isolates you from them. You have to maintain a certain distance away from one another while maintaining the same pace. It's a dance with crampons on in glacial ice - a delicate dance indeed - and it's where climbing feels like a team sport. You're all in it together.

Voices rang out in sequence like a game of telephone - one of our team would need to climb down. We said short goodbyes and waited as Adrienne (guide) descended with climber to camp. We were lucky - we hadn’t been climbing long which meant Adrienne could climb down and back to rejoin her rope. Guide redundancy is a safety net when groups of climbers work together.

Darkness continued. We continued. As you persist, darkness seems to persist along with you. In the first hour, it grows heavy. Your world begins and ends at the light of your headlamp, and that's where you find it—your rhythm. Crampons crunching, breath steady, and the gentle swish of your layers create a sort of timpani, a medley of percussion sounds. Clink, brush, crunch, and clink, brush, crunch, as ax bites ice, the movement of your clothes, and the toe of your boot kicks crampon into snow propelling you forward. There isn't much to think about in this grinding meditation. You're grounded in tugs from ahead or behind you as you march, slowly up. You can count steps, miles, feet of elevation - whatever keeps you moving. Whatever keeps you going up.

Moments before sunrise, we would lose another on our team. I listened to Melissa coach her. "What we're headed to is going to be harder than what we've just done. If how you are feeling is taking away from your ability to focus on your next step - I can only tell you that it's not going to get easier from here." That's when I saw the decision on her face. Another round of goodbyes - this one a bit more somber. She had worked so hard.

The decision to descend is a difficult one, but it’s one of the most important you can make. There are steep consequences to being in over your head in a place so remote. The summit is a siren, beware. Melissa - aware of the remaining teams intention to summit - advised us to plug our ears as she told the descending climber the Sherpa belief that a mountain won't let you summit for the first time if it likes you. Mountains bring you back. Further, she coached, the decision to go down can lift an entire team's chance of success if you feel you're a liability. Recognizing yourself and your limitations truthfully is a mountain in itself. That's the summit this person made in her decision to descend.

Like a good Agatha Christie novel, our list of characters dwindled. We added layers and continued - five of the original eight. Melissa was right, again. After we lost the second climber, our ascent became a proper climb. From that point forward, if anyone decided to turn around - we would all have to. There was only one remaining guide, and she had to protect all her climbers, no exceptions - me in the cockpit all over again.

She didn't show it, but 62-year-old Sharon was genuinely frightened. She had realized the same thing I did. If she didn't make it - no one would. Sharon kept climbing. Remember when I was worried she would slow me down?

When the sun starts to rise, everything begins to feel possible again. I don't mean to say that things were hopeless, just that with the sun comes energy and a sense of renewal. Color returns to the landscape, and you can begin to be able to measure your progress concretely. The mountain casts a shadow across the earth, stretching miles. You can't believe that you are contained within that shadow, on the face of such a giant who stands so impossibly tall. Melissa stood there, and I took her picture.

She had turned out to be not an ass hole at all. Where I sought to be her student, she aspired to teach - at once brilliant and kind. Her stride - her sport - a work of art. The precise art of what she calls slow, uphill walking. Her shadow and the shadow of the mountain impressed upon me the power of legends.

As the Roman Wall came into view - I knew we had it. We short rope in and make one last push. If Mt. Baker is a joke from God, the ending of the Roman Wall is its punchline.

Atop the incline awaits a long, easy walk to a haystack peak some few hundred yards in the distance. I was bubbling with emotion as my heart rate settled and the view became clear. There wasn't much difference between where we stood and where we were going. We dropped our packs, unroped, and ran up the summit. I was in tears.

Melissa broke her no-hugs-in-the-pandemic rule and celebrated us each in turn. I snapped countless photos and spent each frozen moment smiling. I pulled Melissa and Sharon in close. I had felt something on my heart and only needed a moment's bravery to share it.

I started awkwardly.

"I'd like to say something to you and Sharon," I muttered, barely audible over the wind, as I tugged on Melissa's sleeve. I grabbed Sharon's arm and pulled her in too. I don't remember the exact thing I said or the exact way in which I said it. I remember pausing to make sure I got it right and wondering for a long time if I managed to do so.

I told them that I had come to the mountain expecting to be impressed by one person. Melissa promised an impressive education - on which she delivered. She is of that rare quality - the kind who’s presence improves you. I came to Baker with that expectation, I confessed, I expected Melissa. I paused before telling Sharon, her gloved hand in mine, “You?” I laughed nervously. “I wasn’t expecting. A 62-year-old woman….” I nodded back to Melissa, “And you, the mother of a 3-year-old…” I didn’t want to get this wrong. “You are two people who our society labels and confines. Yet, here you are - on top of a mountain. I have to tell you….” I was choked up in earnest here and struggled to continue.

"It matters.” I said. “What you do matters. It matters to have an example of what is possible. Both of you have provided that example to me and women like me. Thank you." I sobbed. "I am so grateful for it and grateful for you." Melissa smothered me in her jacket as she embraced me, once again, in a hug. Pandemic be damned. My tears froze. While I expected a "There's no crying in mountaineering" a la Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own (it was a climb of mostly women, after all) the admonishment never came.

Sharon grabbed hold of me next and we shared the alpine view. Before I knew it, we were the last two on the summit. The wind howled a steady cheer. Celebrations concluded, it was time to leave. I stayed for just a moment longer, watching Sharon as she left. They don't make anything more beautiful than a mountain, and it's a view worth savoring. I descended, joyfully, to my team.

I didn't bury Jake up there. In Ashes to Ashes, I told the story of taking my old farm dog's remains to the top of my first volcano. He's not so much a good luck charm as he is an omen of protection. I don't need luck as much as I need safety, and he serves his duty well. Jake stayed with me through our descent to camp. I needed a little protection coming down off the Roman Wall, I thought. I wanted him close until we were off the glacier. He lays now at the foot of my tent—a very good place for a very good dog.

There's a natural mindfulness to climbing. I often find myself living in the present step - not thinking about the route that lies below. You forget in moments that the trip up is accompanied by an equally long and perilous journey down. From the summit, your journey is far from over. Yet, time flies by even as you stop to admire the steam vents. The rainbow that surrounds the sun refracts joy and color the same.

You reach camp, celebrate, pack up. Miles and thousands of feet remain even from there. That's when you realize it's ending and when I realized I didn't want it to end.

We spent the next few miles getting to know each other in earnest, savoring time and mountain views, chatting in the way of long-form hikers - about the nature of things and through storytelling. Melissa regaled us with vulnerable truths and comedic parables. We laughed. I kept sipping at the wells of knowledge around me, drinking in the moments. Laughter distracted from hunger, from wet feet, and from the dull and dim realization that all good things must come to an end. We made our way to the bottom of the mountain. Just like that - we say goodbye.

Sharon drove me back to Grandy's. We chitter like school girls - adrenaline and nostalgia collide in our post-climb delirium. We talk about the future. I realize that we are good friends. I am humbled by just how wrong a person can be to believe something about someone for no good reason.

Mom picks me up, and with her embrace my adventure is over. I’ve come full circle - safe and sound, parked in the lot of Grandy Creek Grocery.

Melissa found us there and knocked on our window.

"Your daughter is really special. The MOST special,” my hero and friend told my mom. Mom beamed with a special pride reserved exclusively for mothers of strong-willed daughters. I had been misreading things - the adventure had only just begun.

There are eight years between Melissa and I. I’m not sure I’ll be chasing Everest in that time, but I know I won’t be finished. I’ve got thirty-three years to catch Sharon at 62. In the mountain blink of sixty-one years, I’ll be as old as my Nana and I hope at least half as wise. Good thing there are so many years - for there is so much left to climb.

#mountaineering #mountains #travel #adventure #adventurephotography #traveling #travelblogpost #mountainclimbing #mt baker

2 notes · View notes

camillemontespan · 5 years ago

Text

ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [part six: emerald green]

Master List if you want to catch up

Warnings: NSFW.

Another day of lockdown, another chapter!

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @mskaneko @ibldw-main @katedrakeohd @pug-bitch @gooddaykate @princessleac1 @burnsoslow @loveellamae @pedudley @oofchoices @emichelle @simplymissjulia @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @rainbowsinthestorm @notoriouscs @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @addictedtodrakefanfic @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @gardeningourmet *********************************************

Liam and Camille had a very awkward breakfast with the Walkers - it seemed that everyone had heard Camille the night before. Bianca had teased them by saying, ‘enjoy your nightcap last night, then?’ Liam was slightly hungover and demolished the eggs and bacon set out for him, making sure to shower Bianca with compliments.

Drake focused on drinking his coffee and avoided looking at Camille. If he did, he knew he would be dealing with a boner under the breakfast table. Camille studiously ate her toast while trying to make small talk with Savannah, to no avail as Savannah kept shooting daggers at her and Liam. Because she hadn’t been able to sleep due to Camille’s groans and cries, Savannah had been awake since 3am and she was not happy. She had her hands full with Bartie, who was being particularly demanding this morning.

Bianca was reading the Applewood Gazette and announcing the news in a bid to lift the mood of the room. ‘Oooh the Beaumonts are hosting a Bash this weekend!’ Bianca cooed. ‘It says invitations will be posted asap.. I wonder if we’ll get one?!’

Bianca had been hopeful ever since her chat with Bertrand.

Drake rolled his eyes. ‘I hope not.’

Liam frowned. ‘What’s wrong with the Beaumont’s? I liked them.’

Savannah laughed dryly. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘It’s just Drake. He hates social events. Such a loner.’

‘I prefer to be a loner than a desperate social climber,’ Drake muttered. Savannah’s eyes narrowed and she kicked him hard in the leg.

‘OW!’

‘I’ll aim higher next time,’ Savannah hissed.

Camille kept her eyes on her toast, ignoring the sibling squabble. She knew that Drake had overheard her last night and she wasn’t proud of herself. He had been right next door! Why hadn’t she just stopped Liam before he started to get her all worked up? How embarrassing.

Once breakfast was finished, Liam and Camille bid goodbye. Drake was relieved to see them go. He was about to escape to see Lone Star when Savannah grabbed him by the arm. ‘Come into town with me,’ she said.

‘Sav, why?’ he groaned. ‘I need to sort out the horse-’

‘I need your brotherly opinion about what to wear for the Bash!’

Drake sighed. ‘We haven’t been invited.’

‘Yet,’ Savannah corrected him. ‘Yet. I need to be prepared.’

Drake closed his eyes. ‘I know nothing about fashion-’

‘Duh, I know that,’ Savannah said. ‘But I still need a second opinion.’

‘Ask mom!’

‘No!’ Savannah protested. ‘She’ll pick something.. Floral. Or dull. I need someone with me who has younger taste. Besides, we can catch up.’

Drake clocked what she was doing. This wasn’t a shopping trip. This was an interrogation about him and Camille.

*************************************************

Savannah was picky. Incredibly picky. Anything Drake suggested, she would shoot down in flames.

‘What’s wrong with that one?!’

‘It looks like something a 50s housewife would wear!’ Savannah cried, pushing past Drake to inspect another rail. Drake exhaled, trying to gather patience.

‘It would help if you told me what you’re looking for. Gimme something, Sav.’

Savannah sighed and perused the rails. ‘I want something that says I’m more than just a mom who got knocked up aged 18.. Like, I am so much more. I am sexy and intelligent. I deserve a seat at the table.’

Drake blinked. ‘I meant a colour but yeah, whatever you say..’

‘I will know it when I see it,’ Savannah said, picking up a dress before putting it back. ‘It will speak to me.’

She continued to look through the rails. Drake sat down on a chair, defeated. He would just be patient and wait instead of suggesting anything. Before he could take his phone out of his pocket, Savannah spoke.

‘So, Camille…’

Drake sighed. ‘Yes?’

‘You’ve been hanging out a lot recently..’

God, her tone was so.. probing.

‘Yeah, well, we’ve reconnected,’ Drake muttered.

Savannah held up a blue dress against her body before tutting and putting it back. She glanced at her brother. ‘I can see that,’ she said. ‘All the inside jokes are coming back. The flirting-’

‘We aren’t flirting!’ Drake interrupted.

Savannah scoffed. ‘You absolutely are! Oh my God, Drake, it’s so obvious! The banter! Calling her by her last name! The looks.. Oh my god, the looks.’

‘The looks?’

Savannah placed her hand on her hip and gave Drake a steady stare. ‘You both keep looking at each other when you think the other isn’t looking.’

Drake reacted in the worst way possible to this information; he blushed. Savannah pointed at him, looking triumphant. ‘I knew it!’ she cried. ‘You love her!’

‘Shhh, Sav!’ Drake hissed, as if worried the dresses on the rails were going to spill his secrets. ‘I don’t!’

‘Oh please. The feelings are coming back.’

Drake stood up, shaking his head. ‘Alright. You can get the bus home.’

Savannah grabbed him by the arm. ‘I’m just looking out for you,’ she explained softly. ‘I don’t want to see you get hurt. Or do something stupid.’

‘Like what?’ Drake asked. ‘What would be stupid? She’s getting married, Sav. I’m not an idiot.’

Savannah sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I’m just worried. I don’t think you both realise how big this could get if you’re not careful.’

‘She leaves in a week,’ Drake told her. ‘I won’t see her again until the wedding and then I won’t see her again for the rest of my life so to be honest, Sav, I think I’ll be fine.’

Savannah didn’t look like she believed him. She told him so. Drake let out a frustrated groan and began to walk through the store towards the exit. ‘Get the bus back, Sav!’

‘Drake, wait!’ Savannah rushed after him and continued to walk beside him as they strode through the mall. ‘Drake, stop walking so fast! I was just looking out for you. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret-’

Drake spun around to face her. ‘Savannah,’ he said, his voice firm. ‘I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. I’m not an idiot. Just trust me, okay? I’m not going to do anything with Camille. She’s getting married. That’s it. Now, can we please just find you a fucking dress so we can go home?’

Savannah sighed. ‘Fine,’ she finally said. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you-’

‘I get it, Sav.’

The siblings entered a new store and didn’t discuss Camille for the rest of the shopping trip.

*************************************************

The coveted Beaumont Bash invitation arrived in the post two days later. Bianca and Savannah had jumped around screaming happily while Drake dragged himself outside to look after Lone Star.

She had been his horse since he was twelve. He loved her so much; always had, always will. The horse was keen to get out of the stable for a ride and Drake was happy to indulge her. She needed the exercise anyway.

He rode her gently down the dirt path, deciding to go for a trip around the ranch. Drake wore a checked shirt loose over a white vest and his grubbiest jeans. ‘There’s a good girl..’ he coaxed her as she cantered down the path. ‘Feels good to be out, right?’

Lone Star cantered further down the road until Drake could see Camille’s grandma’s house. He was about to turn the horse back but stopped when he saw Camille was sitting out on the porch. She waved at him.

‘Yeah, look, it’s your old friend,’ Drake murmured to Lone Star. ‘Remember Camille? You loved her.’

Lone Star wickered in response. Camille stood up and began to walk towards Drake and Lone Star. Drake swallowed as his eyes studied her; she was wearing tiny denim shorts and a black vest that hugged her breasts and showed a strip of flat, toned stomach.

‘Hey Drake. Oh my gosh, is this Lone Star?!’ Camille cried, running towards them now. She reached the horse and held out her hand for Lone Star to sniff.

‘It’s your girl,’ Drake confirmed.

A wide smile broke out on Camille’s face. She looked delighted to see the horse; her eyes were dancing. ‘I don’t have any apples for you, babe,’ she said softly.

Drake reached into the bag that was slung around his body and handed her an apple. Camille giggled and held it out for Lone star. ‘Or do I?!’

Drake chuckled and watched as Camille fed Lone Star the apple. ‘You are so gorgeous..’ she whispered, her eyes fixed on Lone Star. ‘I missed you.’

‘She missed you too,’ Drake said, trying to be light. He saw Camille blush and wished he hadn’t said anything. He smiled though as Camille continued to speak to Lone Star in hushed tones, the smile remaining on her face.

She looked up at him now. ‘Having a nice ride?’

‘Yeah, it’s good,’ Drake said. ‘You just hanging out on the porch?’

‘Yeah,’ Camille said. ‘Liam is napping, grandma’s planting more flowers. I have a few hours to spare until dinner.’

Drake nodded, letting a silence descend on them. He was not going to invite her to join him for a ride. He was not going to give Savannah any more reasons to lecture him. But the silence between them was excruciating..

‘Can I join you and Lone Star?’ Camille suddenly asked. ‘Me and my girl gotta catch up.’

Drake swallowed. ‘Uhhh..’

Camille turned red. She had realised that it was an awkward suggestion. ‘It’s cool,’ she said. ‘Are you going to the Bash? I’ll be there so we can talk then-’

‘Montespan,’ Drake said, interrupting her bluntly. She stopped talking and looked up at him nervously.

‘You wanna ride Lone Star?’ Drake asked her.

Camille’s eyes darted to the horse. ‘Uhhh..’

‘She’d love it,’ Drake murmured softly.

Camille blushed again. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let me up.’

Drake jumped off the horse and helped Camille climb up onto Lone Star. He held her hands as she steadied herself and helped her fix her feet into the stirrups. ‘Not the best horse riding wear,’ he teased.

‘Says you who is wearing jeans?’ she shot back, raising an eyebrow. Drake chuckled and watched as Camille leaned close to Lone Star’s head.

‘Shall we get him to chase us, girl?’ she asked.

‘Don’t you dare..’ Drake breathed.

Camille gave Drake a wink and dug her heels into the horse. Lone Star began to trot up the road before increasing her speed, breaking into a run.

‘Camille!’ Drake shouted. ‘Give her back!’

‘Gotta catch me first!’ Camille hollered over her shoulder.

Drake cursed her and raced after them, trying not to laugh as Camille whooped and cheered.

Camille brought Lone Star to a stop further down the road and waited for Drake to catch up. He was panting heavily as he reached them. ‘You dick..’ he muttered.

Camille giggled. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’

Drake shook his head, smiling, and took hold of the reins. He began to lead the horse up the road, letting Camille relax astride her back. He and Camille chatted easily, like old times.

As Drake guided the horse, Camille looked down at him and felt her heart flutter. Clearing her throat, she tried to settle herself and stop the fluttering that she hadn’t expected to feel.

*************************************************

Savannah had chosen a fuschia bodycon dress to wear to the Beaumont Bash. To her, it said she was sexy and intelligent. To Drake, it showed too much of his sister’s skin.

Bianca was wearing an elegant teal trouser suit with nude heels. Her hair had been blowdried by the best hairdresser in town and she was ready to go three hours before they were due to leave the ranch. Bianca was that prepared.

Drake had hired a suit. He refused to wear the too small suit in his closet and so had enlisted Savannah to join him at a tailor shop. With her help, he had found a black suit, new black shoes and an emerald green pocket square that added a surprising pop of colour. The suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and chest. As Drake examined himself in the mirror, he imagined being a bodyguard because that was what he looked like.

He whistled ‘I Will Always Love You’ by Whitney Houston as he trundled downstairs to join his mother and sister. They were waiting for the taxi to pick them up and they had agreed to pick up Gisele, Camille and Liam on the way.

‘Wow, look at you!’ Bianca shrieked, clapping her hands as she saw her son. ‘You look so handsome!’

Drake grinned. ‘Thanks, ma.’

‘Taxi’s here!’ Savannah hollered. ‘Let’s go!’

The taxi drove them down the road to Gisele’s. Drake clambered out of the car and went to the front door to ring the bell. He waited until the door opened to reveal Camille. He let out a breath as his eyes took her in.

She was wearing an emerald green silk bias cut dress and rose gold strappy heels. Her hair was arranged into a chignon and she wore emerald earrings that dangled from her ears just above her shoulders.

‘Wow..’ Drake murmured, taken aback. ‘You look.. Wow.’

Camille blushed. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. She studied Drake now, her eyes roaming over his body. ‘You look pretty handsome yourself, Walker.’

Drake was about to reply but was interrupted by Liam and Gisele who joined them. ‘Sorry, sorry, we’re ready now mon cherie!’ Gisele said quickly, arranging her red silk shawl around her shoulders.

Liam clapped Drake on the back. ‘Looking good, Drake! You clean up nicely!’

‘You can be my date for the evening!’ Gisele teased, taking Drake’s arm and letting him lead her to the taxi. ‘All the girls will be so envious!’

‘Grandma…’ Camille groaned.

Gisele shot her a wink and climbed into the taxi, cooing as she complimented Bianca’s hair. Camille and Liam arranged themselves to sit beside Savannah. Savannah studied Camille and said with a knowing tone, ‘Camille, your dress matches Drake’s pocket square!’

Liam laughed and looked back and forth from Drake and Camille. ‘So you do!’ he said. ‘How fun!’

Drake wanted to throw the pocket square out of the window.

**************************************************

The Bash’s theme was simple: Jewels. Everyone in attendance had to wear an outfit that was a rich jewel jone, hence why Drake had gone for an emerald pocket square. He refused to wear a green suit; fuck that. Pocket squares were as far as he was willing to go.

Bertrand and Maxwell greeted their guests wearing matching suits made of gold brocade. Maxwell had golden glitter pressed on his cheekbones while Bertrand held a walking cane with a gold diamond set on top. He didn’t need a walking cane; he used it purely for decoration.

‘Drake Walker, you look so suave!’ Bertrand cried, shaking his hand. ‘Good to see you. And Camille, my beautiful little gem stone! Stunning! Green is absolutely your colour!’

Maxwell squealed. ‘You’re both matching!’

Drake and Camille both wished everyone would stop commenting on the fucking green.

Liam was wearing a purple suit paired with a canary yellow tie. He usually wore reserved colours of grey, black and blue but as this was his first Bash, he wanted to push the boat out. As a result, Bertrand instantly fell in love with him.

‘You look GORGEOUS! Where is this suit from?’ Bertrand asked. ‘And the tie? Liam, we simply must talk. Come to my table.’

He grabbed Liam and pulled him away. Bianca and Gisele were looking around the ballroom of the Beaumont Manor, excited to start dancing. Savannah was looking for people she could talk to that weren’t her brother; she found Madeleine and rushed over to bow at her feet.

Drake and Camille smiled at each other, now that they are alone. ‘Bar?’ Drake suggested.

‘Lead the way,’ Camille said. Drake chuckled and placed his hand on her lower back as he guided her to the bar area. His touch burned through the silk of her dress. They stood at the corner of the bar and Drake raised his hand at the bartender. Camille let him order; he chose champagne for her, whiskey for himself.

‘I want whiskey,’ Camille said softly, tugging on his sleeve.

Drake chuckled. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Drake swapped her drink and watched as she sipped the amber liquid. He tried to ignore the butterflies that were flying around crazily like they were on acid in his stomach. But right now, she looked beautiful.

Camille looked up to find him staring at her. ‘You okay?’ she asked.

Drake blinked as if brought back to earth. ‘Yeah, yeah..’

They drank their whiskies in silence. Camille looked around the room, watching people dance and laugh. They looked like they were having so much fun.

Taking a chance, Camille cleared her throat. ‘Let’s dance.’

Drake laughed. ‘Uh, no. Thanks but no-’

‘Drake, come on! Let’s have a good time. We’re here to party, right?’

Drake groaned. ‘You know I hate dancing,’ he said. ‘I’m awful at it.’

Camille shrugged. ‘Who cares?’

She wasn’t going to give up. Knowing he was defeated, Drake tossed his whiskey down his throat and grabbed her by the hand. Camille let him drag her to the dancefloor as if he was approaching his execution.

**********************************************************

Drake aged 17; Camille aged 16

‘Come on, Drake, shake that thing!’ Camille hollered over the music. ‘The song is telling you to!’

Drake rolled his eyes as he stood with his feet planted firmly to the floor in the middle of the ballroom. ‘I am not shaking my ass because ‘Sean da Paul’ wants me to,’ he told her. ‘Nah, I’m happy to just stand, thanks.’

Camille stuck out her tongue and proceeded to shake her ass. She ignored all the guys who were watching her with their mouths hanging open and she danced for Drake to make him laugh.

They were at a party being thrown by the Beaumont brothers. There was no reason for this party other than Bertrand was feeling extra fun this weekend and so invited all the people he knew.

Well. Drake hadn’t been invited. But Camille had and she had been given the option to bring a Plus One so of course, she dragged Drake along. He had told her that he was happy to just stay home, watch crappy TV and play video games but she insisted that he accompany her.

So, here he was, watching Camille shake her ass.

‘How about you just go home, Walker?’

Drake turned to see Neville standing behind him with a smug expression on his face. Drake and Neville never got along, mainly because Neville treated Drake like shit on his shoe. Neville’s family were upper class and rich, while Drake’s were… not. That was the black mark against Drake’s name in Neville’s opinion. Camille would have been tarred with the same brush, except Neville wanted to see her naked one day so he didn’t treat her like garbage, in his opinion.

‘Neville. You’re here. Yay,’ Drake replied sarcastically.

Neville’s lip curled. ‘Seriously. Go home. You’re not supposed to be here.’

‘He’s my friend so yes, he is supposed to be here actually,’ Camille piped up, ceasing her dancing. ‘So how about you fuck off?’

Neville smirked. ‘Charming. Camille, babe, how about you just keep dancing for us and little Drake here can run along back to the trailer park?’

‘I live on a ranch,’ Drake said tightly, clenching his fists.

‘Ranch, trailer park, same thing..’ Neville droned, examining a fingernail. Camille stepped forward, her eyes blazing with fire.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ she said. ‘Seriously, can you just leave us alone? What did we ever do to you?’

Neville chuckled. ‘You haven’t done anything to me, darling. Shame. I can think of some things you can do for me if you were so obliged-’

Drake shoved him hard, making Neville stumble. His eyes widened and he ran a hand through his coiffed hair, making sure it was still fixed in place. ‘How dare you!’

‘Nah man, how dare you?’ Drake muttered, advancing on him. ‘You talk to her like that again and I swear to God, I will come after you.’

‘Drake, it’s okay..’ Camille murmured, trying to pull him back. People were staring now, finding this showdown much more entertaining. She could see Bertrand and Maxwell walking towards them, Maxwell looking terrified while Bertrand looked like he was close to losing it.

‘You feeling brave, Walker?’ Neville sneered. ‘Hit me.’

Drake smirked. ‘No need to ask me twice.’

Clearly, Neville had expected Drake to stand down. After all, Drake Walker was this quiet boy who stayed in the background. He didn’t stand up for himself. He was an easy target. So when Drake’s fist connected with Neville’s face, it was a complete shock. Neville fell to the floor, clutching his face and swearing.

Drake stepped forward to do more damage but was stopped by Camille. ‘No, Drake! Stop! Please!’

Bertrand had reached them now. ‘Drake, Camille,’ he said in a low voice. ‘My study. Now.’

He grabbed Drake by the arm and together, the three of them strode through the ballroom and out to the corridor where the Beaumont study was located. Bertrand opened the door and shoved them both inside.

‘Stay there until everyone is gone,’ he hissed. ‘I will come get you. I just don’t want Neville to cause more drama.’

He shut the door, leaving Drake and Camille in the study.

Drake closed his eyes. ‘Camille..’

‘You idiot,’ Camille said bluntly. ‘You actual idiot.’

She was pacing the floor now, her heels echoing around the room. Drake listened as she began to rage.

‘I didn’t ask you to hit him! You could have just walked away but instead, you hit him and now he’s going to target you at school on Monday! Do you realise how much I want you to make friends with other people who aren’t me? I’d love it if you could make more friends and be happy but with Neville out for your blood, there is no chance of that happening!’

‘Camille-’

Camille whipped around to face him. Drake was shocked to see tears glistening in her eyes. ‘‘I want us to just enjoy our last years of school together! I don’t want people insulting you or calling you trailer trash! I want them to see the Drake Walker I see! The kind goofball who has awesome taste in films but shit taste in music! The guy who can ride a horse and is so much fun to hang out with! It makes me sad, Drake. I want the best for you, that’s all I want..’

Drake was over to her in an instant. He grasped her hands tightly. ‘Camille, nobody is ever gonna see me the way you do,’ he told her, his voice thick. ‘Nobody. They see a guy who lives on a ranch, who wears clothes from discount stores and doesn’t have a dad. They see a loser.’

‘You’re not a loser-’

‘I am,’ he interrupted. ‘Camille.. Kids are evil. They make their mind up about you the first moment they see you. This is it for me. I’m gonna be the guy who is under the radar but will still get picked on when they feel like mixing it up a little. You have the potential to be anything here, you could be a fucking cheerleader or prom queen if you just stopped being my shadow-’

‘I’m your best friend,’ Camille bit back, venom filling her voice. ‘I am not your shadow. I don’t hang out with you out of pity, Drake! You’re the best person I know. You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna hang out with anybody else. You’re it for me. You’re Drake Walker, my best friend.’

Drake swallowed. ‘I.. I bring you down.’

‘Stop thinking that,’ Camille said. ‘You are amazing.’

Drake opened his mouth to protest but Camille pressed her hand against his mouth, silencing him. Drake looked into her brown eyes as she continued to speak.

‘You are clever and kind and funny and cute. You make me laugh all the time and you tell me when I’m being a dick. You protect me and I protect you, that’s how we work. We look out for each other. You have my back. We’re partners. You make me feel like someone, you make me feel like I can do anything. I wish I made you feel that way too, Drake. I want you to know that you can do anything you want and you shouldn’t listen to a damn soul that tells you otherwise. I’ve got your back, always. I’m not leaving you. Okay?’

She lifted her hand away. ‘Okay?’ she repeated.

Drake couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. He hadn’t noticed that they were brown and decorated with gold flecks. They were beautiful.

His eyes flicked down to her lips. She was standing so close to him. Camille’s cheeks turned pink as she became aware that he was studying her now.

‘Drake..’ she whispered.

Drake leaned down, his eyes remaining fixed on her mouth. She tilted her head up and closed her eyes, parting her lips as she did so.

The door burst open and Bertrand entered in a flurry of silk kimono. Drake and Camille sprang apart before their lips could touch.

‘Right, everyone is out!’ Betrand announced. ‘Neville is gone. Now please, get out of my study, thank you.’

Drake and Camille’s faces were bright red and their hands were shaking. They left the manor together and never spoke of their near-kiss again.

************************************************************

Drake and Camille had danced but he really didn’t want to. He felt self conscious and awkward as they danced to the music, despite Camille’s attempts to make him feel better.

‘You’ve definitely improved since high school!’ she cried over the music. ‘Like, much more smooth!’

‘I am embarrassing myself!’ Drake said. ‘Fuck it, I’m going..’

He turned on his heel and rushed off the floor to leave the ballroom, not realising how rude it was to leave a woman standing there. He needed space and time away from the crowds and pulsing music.

He opened a door and let himself in, relieved.

It was the Beaumont study. It hadn’t changed in years. Drake wandered over to the bay window to look outside at the courtyard, pretending he owned this manor and that this was his study. If only he had a glass of whiskey in his hand..

‘You can’t just abandon me, you know.’

Drake turned to see Camille standing at the door with her arms crossed. She didn’t look impressed.

Drake winced. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I just got overwhelmed-’

‘I get it,’ Camille said. 'You hate dancing, always have. I should have remembered.'

She smiled weakly and stepped further into the room, looking around at the paintings of Bertrand and Maxwell's ancestors. The fireplace was lit and the lamps in the room cast a warm, cosy glow. Bertrand's desk stood in the corner, impeccably neat.

Camille moved towards the desk. Drake watched her body as her silk dress clung to her delicate curves. She always moved smoothly and fluid, like a swan floating on water. Camille leaned against the edge of the desk and faced him, giving him a soft smile.

'It's been a while since I've been in this room..' she said quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

Drake chuckled. 'Same. Think last and only time I’ve been in this study was when I punched Neville and Bertrand imprisoned us inside here.'

Camille rolled her eyes. 'You and Neville, my god.. He was such an asshole.'

'Still is,' Drake told her, smirking. 'He hasn't changed.'

Camille pulled a face which made Drake laugh. Camille grinned and pulled herself away from the desk to wander across to Drake. She looked out of the window. There was a comfortable silence until Camille broke it. ‘Can I address the elephant in the room?’

Drake frowned, curious.

‘Last night,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if you overheard..’

Drake turned red. ‘It’s okay-’

‘No, it’s not,’ Camille interrupted. ‘It was rude and I’m sorry. You were next door. I feel embarrassed.’

Drake’s jaw set. ‘Nothing I haven’t heard before, Camille.’

Now it was her turn to go red. ‘Drake..’

Drake awkwardly ran a hand through his hair and chuckled despite himself. He looked out of the window again, placing his hands in his pockets. He sighed. ‘I remember the last time we were in here,’ he murmured softly. ‘I nearly kissed you.’

Camille looked down at the floor, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I nearly kissed you too.’

Drake closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he had mentioned that. What was he trying to achieve here? More awkwardness?

‘If you had..’ Camille said, her voice halting, ‘do you think we would have had more time together? Like.. as a couple?’

Was that a trick question?

Drake bit his lip. The two of them were keeping their eyes focused on the window, refusing to look at each other. For some reason, it made them more honest.

‘I think that if I had kissed you,’ Drake said, ‘it would have been the best decision I’d ever made.’

Camille let out a breath. She listened as Drake continued to speak. ‘We would have been together for longer. We would have had more time to establish a relationship before we went to college. Maybe I would have realised how special we were… instead of fucking it up.’

He was aware of Camille edging closer to him. He could smell her perfume that had notes of jasmine and musk. He took the chance to look at her from the corner of his eye; Camille was staring out the window with her chin raised and her jaw set.

‘Camille-’

‘I’ve missed you,’ Camille suddenly whispered. ‘Now I’m back in Texas, I just keep remembering everything. Seeing you again brings it all back.’

Drake swallowed. ‘I’m sorry.’

He jumped when he felt her pinkie finger hook through his. Her eyes remained fixed on the window and the courtyard outside. Drake could feel his heart beginning to hammer against his chest. But he didn’t pull his pinkie away from hers.

Camille looked up at him now, her eyes filled with anguish. ‘Everything is coming back to me, Drake,’ she told him, her voice wavering. ‘Everything.’

Drake’s voice cracked as he replied, ‘Everything?’

Camille nodded. ‘Everything,’ she whispered.

The universe cracked open. Drake’s mouth crashed against hers in a moment of sheer adrenaline. His teeth caught on her lip, making her hiss, and his hand reached up to cup the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue twisting with hers. Camille let out a groan and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to her.

Their bodies were up against each other. Drake’s hands swept down from her hair to run down her back, bunching up the silk fabric of her dress in his fists. Camille tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, making Drake let out a strangled groan.

If they thought this was wrong, they didn’t say so. All of the passion that had fused their old relationship had ignited again, reminding them of how they had been. Their kisses were desperate and their hands fought to touch as much skin as possible, roaving like wildfire.

Drake pushed Camille towards the desk and picked her up to sit her on the edge. Camille pulled up the hem of her dress so she could move her legs to wrap around his waist. Her fingers pulled at his suit jacket, throwing it to the floor, before making quick work of his shirt buttons.

The strap of her emerald dress had fallen down her shoulder. Drake kissed the bare skin of her shoulders, his lips trailing down her arm to make the strap fall down further. Camille’s head fell back as she closed her eyes to focus on the feel of his lips on her skin. He kissed the inside of her elbow which made her breath hitch.

‘Drake..’

He felt his body react as he heard her breathe his name. It had been so long since he had heard her say it in those low tones. His name was delicious on her tongue.

Drake reached for his belt buckle and unclasped it quickly. He pulled his trousers down, Camille watching him with wide eyes as he stripped. He stood before her now and he could see her eyes darken as she took him in. Without a word, Camille hitched up her dress and pulled down her lace thong.

She spread her legs.

Drake’s lips crashed against hers again, the heat and desperation engulfing him again. He felt her hand wrap around his hard length, furiously pumping along the shaft.

‘Oh god, Camille..’ he groaned in her ear.

‘Fuck me, Drake,’ she murmured in his ear. ‘Please.’

Their eyes met. This was the moment to stop. To think about what they were doing and the consequences of this. They needed to breathe, take some time, pull themselves back.

But as he looked into her brown eyes that were decorated with gold flecks, Drake knew he was too far gone. Camille was too.

Outside the study, due to the music coming from the ballroom, nobody could hear Drake’s low groans and Camille’s cries. Nobody could hear Camille shouting out Drake’s name. Nobody could hear Drake’s heavy breaths and pants as he brought himself closer to oblivion.

It was just Drake and Camille, caught in this illicit moment, lips desperately seeking each other, hands gripping onto skin, breaths hitching and catching as momentum built. Their clothes lay in an emerald green pile on the floor, leaving Drake and Camille stripped bare.

#drake walker #drake walker x mc #trr fanfic #the royal romance #play choices #trr au

48 notes · View notes

abigailsfictionalothers-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Never Stopped Thinking About You - Alistair x Me

A/N: Welcome to my first ever self shipping one shot!!! It’s definitely not my best work ever, but I felt pretty awkward about it, so I kind of just wanted to get this out there! I probably won’t push this very hard since I feel awkward about it, but I hope people enjoy it nonetheless!

Also, I should note that my s/I is 100% just me adapted to the Dragon Age setting, but also aged up by quite a few years for plot convenience! My s/I is 27 in this. Also for those that don’t know I sometimes use she and they pronouns interchangeably and I was feeling she/her for this one! I go back and forth but stuck with she/her throughout here.

Word Count: 1491

Warnings: Mentions of character death, angst with a happy ending

~~~

Wallace had underestimated how difficult it would be, being so close to Alistair after all this time. It had been almost ten years since they had last spoken, before he had reached out, and the years had numbed the pain.

Time had made it more and more obvious that Wallace had grown to love him during their time battling the Fifth Blight, and while it hurt like hell to realize it, at least she hadn't been around him when she had. If she never planned to see him in person again, what did it matter? He would always just be the man she had loved, who she lost when he became king.

Wallace had been doing fairly well for herself on her own. Turns out lots of people are willing to hire a veteran of the Fifth Blight for a myriad of things, which found her work as an adventurer all across Thedas.

She met up with old friends from time to time. She kept in constant contact with Leliana, and saw Zevran regularly. She'd spoken with Oghren from time to time, and had even received a letter or two from Morrigan. But she didn't dare reach out to Alistair, and he never sent anything for her either.

Until just a few weeks ago, when she had gotten a letter with the Ferelden royal seal on it. It was addressed, To my dearest friend, and from there onward, she knew damn well she was hooked on anything he would ask. When he asked if she would accompany him to go on an epic quest to discover what had happened to his long-lost father, that was just the cherry on top.

Their reunion had been awkward. They met in a very busy port, which didn't help, and were accompanied by the pirate and the dwarf he had asked to help as well, who definitely didn't help. When all that occurred was a firm handshake and a soft, "It's good to see you. I knew I could trust you with this," Wallace tried to not be disappointed.

After trekking through an Antivan swamp with him, breaking into a Crow prison, and facing perilous danger, she had been reminded of all the reasons she had loved him in the first place, and it hurt. Now here they were on Isabela's boat, on their way to Tevinter, and Wallace was sequestered away in the cabin she'd been given, begging her mind to stop screaming the words to my dearest friend.

The knocking on her door startled her. "Come in!"

To her shock, horror, desperation, it was Alistair who opened the door. His demeanor was still awkward, "May I?"

Wallace merely nodded. He stepped in further and closed the door behind him, standing there uncomfortably. "How are you?"

It occurred to Wallace now that the last time he had asked her that exact question was at Brosca's funeral. "I'm fine. These are the details of your father's disappearance we're learning here; how are you?"

He stopped for a moment to ponder the question. "As good as I can be, all things considered. That's sort of why I wanted to speak to you - I wanted to ask you something." Wallace almost shivered with fear.

"Ask away."

"Why did you never write?"

Wallace began blinking in shock. "Is that really-"

"Please. I know, this is all about Maric, but it's for me, there are things about my life that I need to know before I go crazy, and this is one of them. It might not be the most appropriate time, but I'm not sure when there will be another where I have the opportunity to ask. Why?"

Why hadn't she? For the longest time, she thought it was because she's missed Brosca too much to be connected to remnants of that life. Yet, she emulated the lifestyle every day, and she began talking to everyone else soon enough. Then she figured it would be inappropriate for her to write to the King of Ferelden casually. Now, here they were, face to face after a casual letter, and everyone they met assumed the were old friends easily enough, accepting their casual relationship with no question. Wallace had trouble coming up with many more excuses, so she went with as close to the truth as her own heart would let her.

"I didn't know what to say. The last time we spoke in person was after Brosca- I didn't talk to anyone for a while after that. And then I figured you were a king now, what right did I have to be writing to you? What could I even say, after that year? When you never did either... I guess I just gave up trying."

He seemed distressed by the confession, "So that's it? You were just content to never speak to me again?"

"I figured it was better for both of us." She presented.

"Better? Than what? Staying in contact? Supporting each other? You were always one of my greatest support systems - I needed you after all that more then anyone." He seemed surely confused now.

Wallace flinched, but in the wake of her curiosity, she held firm, "If you needed me so badly, why did you never write me first then?"

"I was afraid of what you'd say." The confession came with no hesitation, and his awkwardness had fallen away in place of a new surety. That was new from the last eight years.

"Afraid? What did you have to be afraid of from me?"

"That you wouldn't want me anymore." He spoke softly, earnestly, "I feared that you would think I'd changed once I accepted the crown, that you wouldn't want anything to do with me then. On top of it, I... I can't lie anymore, I had feelings for you from the beginning. Romantic feelings, that is. I feared that if I brought it up, it would be too much for you, or worse, that you would simply reject me, whatever your reasons might have been."

Wallace's throat ran completely dry, but her eyes watered, "You... had feelings for me?"

Alistair laughed lightly, "I never stopped. I guess that's why it plagues me so much, even in light of recent developments. I guess I had to know if you ever felt the same way, if maybe you never wrote for the same reasons I did. But it's alright, that you just gave up. I suppose I would have to, and you're right, it's not like I ever wrote either. That bit's on me. Perhaps I should go-"

"I loved you too!" She found herself screaming before she could stop herself. "Love, you too. Present tense. I always did. I didn't know what to say because I figured I never stood a chance with a king, so I gave up to give myself the distance and spare myself the heart ache. I figured you had stopped thinking about me at all."

It was Wallace's turn to see Alistair's eyes watering, "I never stopped thinking about you, for a single second since the last moment I saw you."

Wallace couldn't restrain herself from rushing at him and throwing her arms around him.

"I'm sorry." It took all her effort to even find those words. She found Alistair was rubbing her back gently.

"I'm sorry too." He whispered, for a long moment, they stood there silently in each other's arms.

Wallace eventually found herself laughing a little through her tears, "Brosca would think us both the fool, wouldn't she?"

She felt more than heard him laugh, "If she'd had a say, this would never have taken so long."

Wallace pulled away from him gently, looking him in the eye, "As unbelievably relieved as I am to know that I'm not the only one who feels this way, and as much as I'll hate myself for saying this, this still can't exactly happen, Alistair. You're still the king of Ferelden, and whatever my credentials, I'm still some random commoner from Gwaren. I can't be seen hanging around the king-"

Alistair stopped her by taking her face in his hands, "What could anyone possibly say to one of my oldest friends coming around to offer me counsel? Okay, so maybe the details are a little unpolished, but leave that to me. Trust me to figure it out, for once, and say you won't leave me again?"

It was a roller coaster of emotions for Wallace. Be with the King of Ferelden in secret? It was a preposterous idea. People would get suspicious, they would know. She would be branded some social climber, taking advantage of him. But what if she wasn't? If they never knew, and she could stay with Alistair, free from their scrutiny besides as an advisor to the king? She could be with him. She could be with Alistair, after all this time. All she ever wanted, at her fingertips.

"I'll stay with you."

His grin felt like it set her on fire, and with no further words needed, they met in a kiss nine years in the making. They could figure out the rest of everything else later.

#otp: king and longing heart #self ship writing #selfship writing #self insert writing #self ship #selfship #self insert #fictional other #f/o #self shipping #selfshipping #self ship community #self insert community #selfship community #my writing

14 notes · View notes

seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

Text

What’s wrong? (Tj Hammond) (Pt.1)

Characters: Bi!TJ Hammond x Asian!Female!Reader

Summary: You're an overseas worker and is in a relationship with TJ, but people can't seem to accept the differences between you both even by financially and background wise.

Warning: Kisses. Public making out. Mention of threesome but no lemon. Lmao. HOT, SEXY GIF'S which can make your phone fly. No angst yet. Annoying racist journalist. Mention of doing the birds and the bees but it wasn't written. Heehee!

Words: 4000+ (IT'S LONG AF. 😂 There’s a part 2 which will be posted soon if ya want?)

A/N: I always tend to write long ass oneshots for TJ Hammond. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Because maybe I'm the only one enjoying this? Lmao. GO BE CRAZY WITH YOUR FEEDBACKS, TATER TOTS! IT’S TIME FOR SOME ASIAN FEMALE READERS!

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

"They're not gonna accept me, Teej." Your heart sank from the moment those words came out of your lips, it was like a curse that made your heart feel heavier with every beat. Those were just the mere, honest truth that was inevitable to come out.

You didn't want to beat behind the bush. From the moment TJ asked you to be his partner for the engagement party that was soon to happen for Douglas and Annie, the anxiety crept up your heart, jumping towards your head that made you speak the honest truth.

You knew deep down that your ethnicity and your background was making it difficult for you, for the both of you and for everyone.

TJ immediately sensed the disheartened change in your voice as he was mindlessly trying to help chop the vegetables needed, standing in front of the kitchen island. On the other hand, you were preparing the beef for the Stir fried noodles you opted to make, in request to the whiny Hammond boy living in yours and his apartment.

You felt gentle arms snake around your waist and instantly you knew whose arms were that from. Tj leaned down, his head beside yours as he adjusted to your five foot one height. You felt his lip on your cheek, peppering soft kisses till he reached your ear. "Am I hearing you right? Was that a whine I heard? As far as I know, I'm the whiny boyfriend here," Tj whispered and chuckled, feeling his hot breath fanning against your ear made you quietly gush in his arms.

"Thomas! Stop, You know I got the tickles there!"

Tj felt the need to be playful, in account to your saddened state. He continued blowing at your ear, "Oh, so now I'm only Thomas to you?" Chuckles and giggles rang around your apartment. Joyful laughters that was perfect to record and watch at any time of the day. Tj haven't been that happy since his recent breakup. From a political fool who he thought had loved him, but end up abusing and using the love he has been giving in the end.

Despite of his crestfallen, past relationship, you suddenly came along. He was utterly depressed and went back to being a druggie. After months have passed of being clean, the addiction came along after the heartbreak. Yet, it was stopped once again from the moment you came along. Basically, you were the rainbow after his rain and he ought to see the light from you forever glowing.

"Hey, hey," Tj pulled you away from your wandering, negative thoughts. Never forgetting to give your head a kiss, feeling the warmth spreading all over your body, "You gotta stop being a pessimist," He cocked his head, an eyebrow rising as he collected his thoughts, "Just..relax, everything's going to be fine I swear,"

You turned the gas range off, sighing and whipping around once you did, meeting a very soft, sweet looking Hammond boy whose eyes were the prettiest out of all the blues out there. Your lip was now in between your teeth, biting the flesh from overthinking what was bound to happen soon. "You always say that, and I'd rather expect the worst, Teej because you're in a relationship with me."

"What's wrong being in a relationship with you? I don't find anything wrong about it," He sassily shrugged, caressing your hip with his thumbs in utmost tenderness, "Anne's Asian, from a different ethnicity but they don't get to say their complaints or problems about it, Y/N."

You bit your lip harder, eyebrows furrowing from thinking too deep, "Anne's from a wealthy family, Tj. And I'm...I'm..from trash,"

"Which I was lucky to find because I have rummaged a diamond in the dumps," He chuckled, his laugh sounding angelic to you. You fought off a smile, the anxiety was still swallowing you whole, making everything more complicated for you. "It's not funny, you're just making my anxiety worse,"

Tj had to put more effort in distracting you, and so he tried harder. "Come on, Baby. Lighten up, nothing's gonna happen, it's going to be a boring day for us because the party was probably a way to bring those stormtroopers all together," He licked his lips, looking at you straight in the eyes with such shine that could make your heart go all putty. "Just be my plus one, be the good girl you are while we suffer this together, Deal?"

"I dunno, Teej. What do I get in return upon agreeing to this so called...deal of yours?" You purred, tracing the outline of his pectorials bulging out of his tight black shirt. A lopsided smile on your lips.

"Hmm," Tj playfully hummed, his head falling till he reached your ear, never forgetting to give it a tender bite, "Maybe some steamy shower with me, I suppose?" The naughty Hammond boy suggested with a tiny chuckle, his voice dropping an octave lower, even with a suggestive tone that reached down inside your pantaloons, making you squirm in his grasp. "That is..if you're up to it?"

"But--how about the food--" You stammered, finding it hard to say no.

"We could always start with the dessert first, Love." and you certainly didn't object after that.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Tons of people with class that were worth a million dollars came lounging in. Small talks, and fake hi's were their main objective. Wealthy, power hunger crocodiles seem to sound appropriate for their understandable behaviors. Other people appeared to enjoy communicating with anyone whom they can see as wealthy and famous, making them look like a total gold digger or a social climber who likes to be friends with people whom are high-class.

Everything that was happening around you was making you shake your head in animosity. Another set of anxiety creeping you in. How did you even end up in Tj's home when everybody had given you the stink eye, jealous, thirsty women scanning your appearance and history from head to foot if that was even possible.

They were probably wondering how Tj was in a relationship with a substandard woman like you who lived in the eastern part of the world. Well, Sexuality-wise..They were certainly stunned to see the former first son gay icon renegade turned miraculously bisexual, acting all touchy-feely and having thoughts inside their judgemental minds as to why he kept staring at you, looking all lovestruck and whipped.

"Y/N!!! Sweetheart!" You jumped from the huge, beige couch as you lounged beside your boyfriend. A half empty Martini in hand. You could see Margareth, Tj's grandmother marching your way. Her hips swaying with her heels. Her smile never fading once she saw how you still kept your relationship with her complicated grand son, Thomas.

"Tj's keeping you all to himself! This kid can be selfish when he wants to," Margareth complained, her voice shaky and senile but a little bit too hyper for her age. She never forgot to playfully smack her grand son's head, "Aw! Nana!" Tj complained with a sweet smile drawn on his face. A smile that Margareth remembered when he was still a child back in the white house.

Finally, she thought. It was time she got her grand son back.

"Hey, Nana!" You chimed, a huge grin plastered on your face. Truthfully delighted to see somebody whom gave your heart that warm, familiar feeling. Margareth grabbed you in a hug once you stood up to hug her. Yet, you were too slow to be first. "Y/N," She murmured as she cut the hug. Staring right back at you with a sweet smile while she reached for your face. "I'm really happy you keep my grand son in check and completely elated like who he was back then," Nana muttered, taking glances back at Tj who was busy chatting with one of Elaine's friend.

"Please, don't leave him like how that asshole did, Y/N. I don't know what he'll do next when you do, sweetheart."

"I don't plan to, Nana." You gave a crooked smile, adding a giggle on the end. Your words repeating inside your mind like a mantra. Did you really not thought about that? Margareth smiled, lightly tapping your right cheek with a laugh. "Good," She grabbed another Margarita from one of the waiters who were strolling around, promptly sipping on it. "You're perfect for this family,"

You fit in the family. But, that was in Nana's humble perspective. What about Dougie? Elaine? Especially Bud's point of view? Do they accept you though?

The party went on. It wasn't late yet, though as the time went on, more familiar people came in and began to join in the party. As an awkward human being, you stood on the middle of the floor. All alone sipping on your second Martini. Tj asked you to give him a minute because he had to talk to someone and probably get something in God knows where. You immediately gave your approval, giving him a sweet, innocent, tiny kiss on the lips before practically shoving him away before it took much more than you intended to.

Loud chatters can be heard, controversial topics that reached your ear made you want to raise a brow because of their judgemental thoughts that should be kept locked inside their poisonous minds. 'You sure they ain't putting up an act to cover Tj's real sexuality?' 'I bet he's using her,' 'Or probably it's the other way around, girl.'

'She seems like a lonely bitch,'

You crossed your arms against your chest, the anger bubbling up till it reached your head. Giving you a minor, temporary headache. In your peripheral vision, you could see Tj from the bar, talking to Nana and her circle of friends, with a precious smile on his gorgeous face. It was all glitters and rainbows in his part.

On the other hand, yours were full of shit. You cussed inside the back of your mind. The thick-faced women giggled and they were quite close to you. They probably intended to let you hear their conversation, to stir you up and mess with your temper. Especially that journalists and reporters were around, waiting for something to happen so they could add it in their drafts.

You ignored them the best you can. Nonetheless, there was always one person who'll irk you and even try to stir up the kindness in you that could change into rage. You sipped on your cocktail drink while staring at the piano in curiosity. Does Tj know how to play? You mindlessly thought inside your mind. Oh, you were about to know and ask him about it. There was a lingering warm presence behind you, and you instantly smiled from ear to ear. Speak of the devil..

However, to your surprise a woman with blue eyes stood tall in front of you. Appearing to have this sense of pride that she was one successful woman. You could tell from head to toe and it made you feel so tiny and unworthy that you were welcomed to join in the party.

"Will you be so kind to answer these questions that I have for you? Ms..??" The lady humbly asked, an innocent smile that hid behind a wicked scheme she had in mind. You couldn't even believe her. How can she ask for an interview from a person whom she doesn't know his/her name?

What a fool indeed.

"Y/N." You kept a short answer, a tight smile on show as you sighed out loud which made the reporter raise a brow from your dissatisfaction. How dare you act annoyed when you should feel delighted to be interviewed even though you were one substandard woman whom Thomas Hammond obviously made his worst mistake. The woman thought through her fake smile planted on her thick, injected lips.

"So, let's start off with something simpler, Y/N." She paused, acting all modest with the fakest smile you have ever seen. "Tj's??"

If she wanted to appear stupid, then it was best to say the stupidest answers as well. You breathed in deep breaths. Take it with your big girl panties. You can do this. You can. "Supportive wife?" You spoke as a matter of fact. Snorting a little when you saw her jaw tighten.

The brunette woman couldn't help but snicker, sneaking a tiny roll of her eyes. "I don't see a ring," She snapped, laughing to herself and eyeing you from head to toe. "Or a collar?" She smirked when you kept your hands on your sides, fists completely tight, trying hard not to make a scene. No. Never stoop down to her level, Y/N.

"Hmm," She fixed the lapels of her black blazer, "Obviously, you're the girlfriend. I'm not an idiot, Ms. Y/N."

Your nerves was seriously ticking like a time bomb that was ready to explode. "Really? You seem to be a much bigger idiot than me when you asked for my name, but the truth is..I know you knew who I was," You breathed out harshly, not wanting to start and send off rude remarks that could have endless rebuttals. "If I'm an idiot then why do I own a big advertising company..Unlike you," Miss reporter held her head high with her tall height, eyeing you from head to toe again like it was her nasty habit. "I don't work at any Ching-chong restaurants that spits rice, noodles or kimchi's,"

Well, that made you face palm.

"Do you have any more racist comments that could honestly move me? Because that comment sucks so bad," You held a finger under your eye, trying to wipe away imaginary tears. "Cry me a river, woman."

Tj laughed a boisterous one from what grandma Mercedith just said. She was one of Nana's bestest friend and a sweetheart indeed. Margareth noticed that Y/N wasn't with her grandson, and so she questioned.

"Tj, where's Y/N?"

The latter smiled, those smiles that held teeth and was too picturesque not to ogle at. Nana couldn't help but lift her lips too. "Oh, over there." Tj gestured behind him, towards where the party was, never looking back. Margareth glanced where he was pointing to and saw that Y/N is being interrogated by the infamous reporter slash journalist slash owner of an almost bankrupt advertising company who had no good thing to do but make false hypothesis about every issue especially when it was about the Hammond family.

"Tj," Nana started, sounding disturbed. "If I were you, I won't go leaving Y/N in a place full of sharks wanting to munch on a bait," She pointed towards where Y/N and Rosalie Sparks where. They seem to be exchanging heated conversations because she could see how Y/N was keeping herself together. "The Sasquash is on the move, honey."

"What?" Tj turned their backs away from them. A stern frown appeared to be on show for the folks to see. Finally acknowledging what his Nana has been saying and there they were. His girlfriend and an annoying woman who was planning to offend and get something out of his girlfriend. What was new?

"How's it feel to be unaccepted in the Hammond family? Especially that we know Bud doesn't take a liking on you because of how incompetent you are and how pitiable your family is," Rosalie Spark's chatted like what she was saying are compliments that was meant to fill the heart. Though, it was filling it with dread and anger. "Rich people deserve to only be with rich people too," She clucked on her wine glass with her fancy gold ring, grinning in the process. "While the peasants deserve to stay in the dumps,"

You zipped your mouth. Never stoop down. Never. Silence is the best way to talk back because you knew you were educated, matured and old enough to know how immature she was acting.

"I'm honestly disgusted by Tj Hammond's tastes are in women," She continued, more like talking to herself because you weren't speaking. "Or he's probably just confused for the second time and is actually really..reallyyy into men," The bitch exaggerated.

"Because if I'm in a relationship with you or--" She held her mouth, supressing a giggle that made you want to throw a glass at her. "--to be unluckily sleeping with you, I'll just be gay for all my life, Y/N."

You could feel your eyes turning hotter as each second pass by. God, you were such a pathetic baby. Why had you even agreed to go the party? Obviously because Tj begged you to come with him.

Not a second has passed by when you felt a warm presence snake beside you, and it took you long enough to realize that it was finally your Tj by the looks of his black dress shirt and all black attire. An arm moved around you, clutching onto your waist and Tj felt you were shaking. Probably from anger because that's just who you are.

You'd rather stay quiet despite of how people attack you, you'd rather be kind to rude people than to offend them back and that's how Tj knew you were one of a kind. A special one.

Before you knew it, your heart skipped a beat from the moment he held your jaw with his hand. Ushering your face to look at him, and with one dip of his head he had you enthralled in his spell that could calm you down in the sweetest way. Tj kissed you, right in front of that annoying journalist to probably irritate the heck out of her. He locked your lips with his, teasingly lunging the tip of his tongue inside your parted lips as he closed his eyes. Acknowledging the effect you could only give to him.

You couldn't help but envelope your arms around his figure as you kiss him deep, biting on his lower lip that made you both smirk from how she was certainly already uncomfortable. Physical contact makes people feel awkward. Tj preed his eyes open, seeing the woman with a pathetic aggravated face that made him chuckle as you both kiss.

Oh, she wasn't going anywhere is she?

Tj gave her a grin, never forgetting to give your lip a tender bite that made your insides go mushy and another sweet kiss that made your heart twerk. He was yours and yours alone. Only yours.

"Tiger twat," Tj answered so smoothly with that hot smolder as he looked deep into your eyes. Completely enticed by your spirit with an innocent smile written on his face that wasn't too innocent in your line of vision. You could see the grin and irk threatening to be shown on his beautiful features. Here, you thought he was calling you a tiger twat when it was actually sent to the reporter slash journalist who looked guilty because she seemed to be entirely shook.

"Isn't that your nickname in DC?" He finally gave attention to the tall, angry Sasquash who happened to rudely interview you.

"News spread so fast, Rosalie."

Your loving boyfriend grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made her pride and dignity shatter like fragile chinawares. "What's it like to have teeth down there?"

"Your girlfriend's a bitch," Her ego was wavering yet that didn't stop her from trying to have the last laugh. Rosalie hardly bit the insides of her cheeks, remembering the awful night when the famous Tj Hammond who was out and wasted in his club and miraculously happened to reject her amazing, stunning self.

Oh, did she had a petty little crush on him so that was why she was acting so hostile towards you.

"No," Tj shook his head, a wicked grin threatening to come out and a lot of nasty sentences that could get her to crumble. "You're the bitchest out of all the bitch, Rosalie." He chuckled, his arm retreating from your waist as you saw him took a step forward till he reached her ear, bending down to whisper whatever he needed to.

"Don't come attacking my woman when you're still salty about that night," Tj harshly whispered on her ear, his voice turning an octave lower but definitely more harsh, breath hot and fanning, making her toes curl with want and hunger. "I remembered it so well," He chuckled, a sinister one. "I remembered how you were trying to get in my pants, yet my gay self didn't happen to find you attractive nor worth to fuck for a threesome,"

"Besides, I wouldn't want my dick to get chewed by that dry, loose, wrinkly, smelly twat, Sparks."

And just like that, she huffed and was in the verge of crying her frustrations out once she stomped her foot as she retreated. Making Tj form a wide smile that could make your insides turn a twist. What did he say that made the woman act like a bratty crybaby?

"Thomas," You started, seeing Tj walk back to you, enveloping his arms around your waist, leaning down to give you another peck on the lips but you were quick to maneuver your head, making him chase your lips with his. "Thomas," You repeated more sternly but quietly this time. He looked like he was a little smashed. Was he? you hoped he hadn't sniffed anything that could dissapoint you. "Nobody has the right to talk to you like that," He shockingly spat out in aggravation, looking deep in thought as he gorgeously stared into your eyes.

"What did you say to her?"

He shook his head, licking his lips as he whispered. "Nothing. It's not important, Sugar." His eyes was now trained on your lips, looking like he wanted to devour it all night. You couldn't help but smile. "Are you drunk?"

Your Tj drank in all of your beautiful features. Seeming to be mesmerized by your soul. "No, I'm not. I promise," He took a breather, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "I just love you too much. I can't stand them treating you that way,"

"Now, kiss me." He hastily puckered, dipping his head down for the third time and you were quick to adorably cover his mouth like the conservative person you are. "Tj, we're in the middle of--"

Tj didn't hide the roll of his eyes, showing you how much of a kill joy you were. "Do you think I give a damn?" He spoke against your palms, sounding muffled. "Y/NNNNNN,"

You internally rolled your eyes. He was such a baby. Your big baby. "Fine,"

He kissed your palms, planting a loud kissy sound that made people glance your way, his eyes turning adorable crescent moons once you dropped your palms off his lips. "I love youuuu," Tj puckered for the fourth time before grabbing your face in his hands. Kissing the daylights out of you in the middle of an engagement party. Apparently, it was Dougie and Anne's party yet it seemed like you were both having the engagement.

SCREAM OUT FEEDBACKS IF YA WANT A PART 2 OF THIS ONE SHOT BECAUSE THIS HASSSS A SECOND PART TO IT!!!!

XOXO, TATA

#tj hammond x you #tj hammond x reader #Tj Hammond #political animals #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagines #Bucky Barnes #thomas james hammond #tj hammond x asian reader #asian reader #tatasworks #seb-owns-these-tatas #tatasmasterlist #sebastian x reader #seb owns these tatas #sebastian stan imagine #tj hammond imagine

71 notes · View notes

moccahobi · 6 years ago

Text

Climbing into a Relationship [Reader x Jungkook]

Warnings: None

Prompt: “You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

Word Count: 2.8k words

Genre: Sports AU! Idol AU! Fluff

The building’s air was filled with early 2000s pop and chalk and if you were a newbie to the gym you would have turned around at the stench of sweat that permeates past the front desk and through the door. This gym was your second home and you needed to move after your long shift, though. You also wanted to talk to someone, but the neon orange band you wore as an invite didn’t seem to bring anyone else looking in the bouldering section over to you. It was a new thing the gym was implementing to try and increase the sense of community in the climbing gym but most people didn’t feel the need to talk when climbing.

Getting up from where you sat on the chalky mats, you put more chalk on your hands and attempted the V4 once again. It was a deceivingly hard climb on the 45 degree wall. Especially for a static climber to do and you once again wished that you were better at throwing yourself from hold to hold.

For now, you just focused on trying out the new beta you had thought up which involved getting both your feet where your right hand was and not barn dooring when you stood up. It would be hard and nearly impossible for someone less flexible than you, but you loved trying and V4s were always hard to do.

Of course you failed at not barn dooring. Quickly and uncontrollably, you moved towards a large hold on the other side of the wall, hitting the back your head harshly. You gasped, the air leaving your lungs as your left hand released its iron grip on the small hold keeping you on the wall, leading you to fall onto the mat.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” A voice cut through your pain and disorientation, surprising you from where you landed on the mat.

“Excuse me?” You asked, looking up at the tall and muscular man who was looking down at you. He was in a baggy shirt and shorts, a pair of tight running pants underneath the shorts, and he looked like he would be an extremely dynamic climber (especially with the excess amount of chalk on his hands that you saw in almost every other dynamic climber). The man looked to be about your age, his wide eyes and small lips pressed into a thin line. What he was asking, you didn’t know, but you knew that he was not acting like a normal climber.

“That move where you swung out and faced away from the wall. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” He said, trying to recreate the barn door you did.

“No… that’s called a barn door. You don’t want to do that.” You said, getting up and patting down your pants, leaving faded chalk marks in your stead.

“Well why’d you do it then?”

“When I was at that point in the climb, I only had two points of contact on the wall. So when I moved up, that movement lead to me swinging out and away from the wall. It’s called barn dooring. You don’t want to do that.” You said, giving him a once over. His undamaged hands and rented climbing shoes verified what you had suspected: This man was a new climber, “Do you want to try? It’s a hard climb.”

“Uhhhh… you were doing an actual climb?” He asked, his eyes widening and you giggled lightly in retur. He was very cute.

“Yeah. If you look at these holds,” You pointed at the starting point, a small square of purple laminated paper that said V4, “They have this slip of paper. It tells you the grade you’re attempting. It’s a V4 which means that it is 4 levels from a beginner’s climb. The two holds below the start holds are your starting foot holds. You just follow the purple holds up and you have your climb.”

He simply introduced himself before trying and failing to even make it past the start. Which lead to you laughing lightly as he pouted, “That’s really good for a beginner, Jungkook-sshi. I know many people who wouldn’t be able to hold on. How about we do something easier?” You hoped that you adding yourself to his climbing time wouldn’t be something that he’d mind.

You were lonely and stressed, and he was cute and wanted to climb.

“I would really like that if you’d want to climb with a noob.” He said quietly, his eyes downcast as he spoke. Was he shy? But why? You didn’t do something strange, did you?

“What do you suggest I start with?” He asked, this time talking with the same confidence and excitement as before as if the shyness you had originally seen was just a figment of your imagination.

You smiled, happy to see his excitement, “How about with a VB, they’re great warm-ups.”

Turns out, Jungkook was a fairly good climber, his brute strength and sharp mind making him soar through VBs, V0s, and V1s quickly. It was fun to try his dumb betas and show him different tricks, especailly because he loved to try static climbs. Even if he couldn’t really get his foot above his hip nor do the equivalent of a dyno without leaving the wall. He was strong and determined to try and you were happy to share your three years of knowledge.

It wasn’t until the gym was getting ready to close for the night that you were forced to try and figure out if you’ll ever see Jungkook again. He was in rentals and had never climbed in a technical sense before. You were most likely not seeing him again, even if he decides to climb again, unless you tried to keep in contact. You just don’t run into the same people at the gym that often.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me, Jungkook-sshi? There’s a good salad place near here that I love to eat at after a particularly hard day.” You offered awkwardly after coming out of the restroom. Jungkook looked like he had something he wanted to say as well but when you spoke, he shut up, a pink hue rising on his cheeks.

It was cute.

Very cute.

“I think I’d like that a lot, Y/n-sshi.” Jungkook said, his eyes downcast and hand rubbing his neck. You were a little shocked by how shy he was acting as it was so different than almost every other interaction you had with Jungkook up to that point. He was almost a different person with how shy he was acting.

Turns out, he doesn’t really go out much or interact with strangers which was why he was so shy when it came to social interactions. It didn’t fully make sense to you since he was extremely fit and had mentioned that he had some sort of job in dance. Although his awkwardness was really explained when you learned his age.

You actually spat out your drink when you heard his age, “Bwo! You’re only twenty one? Wow! I thought you were at least twenty three!”

“How old are you, Y/n-sshi?” Jungkook asked, his eyes wide. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that maybe he was worried about your age, but you knew better at this point. He was just a little shocked by your outburst.

“I am twenty five.” You laughed, “But I am still in school. I am hoping to get a PHD in food science.”

“Wow!! That’s cool! What got you into that field? It’s such a strange field!”

“It’s not really. Everything we eat uses it and my first job will probably be working for some junk food company to try and figure out the next combination of taste and texture to get more people to buy it. I got into it because of my second year bio professor. He kind of showed us some ways in which we can use food science to make our food last longer. My goal is to work for some nonprofit and make healthier food last longer in countries that don’t have as much access to it. GMOs and all that stuff.”

“It sounds like you’re very passionate about the work you want to do.” Jungkook said, laughing as you tried to spear a crouton onto your fork, “But I didn’t know GMOs were good. I thought they were bad.”

“They can be but overall they are the future if we want to live for more than one hundred years on this planet. What are you studying in college?”

“Oh… Uhhh… I am still undecided. I started college late and am only starting my second year.” Jungkook said, lowering her eyes in an almost sad way.

“You took a gap year?” He nodded, still not making eye contact with you, “Smart. I honestly wish I did. If I did, I might not have had to take out a loan. Two of my roommates took a gap year as well and they were the ones who really helped us furnish the apartment.”

“I’m also only doing college part time. My job is a priority.” He said, this time looking back at you and smiling. You tried to brush off the rapid beating of your heart you felt when he looked at you this time. You were really starting to like Jungkook.

“That is so cool. Do you have any idea of what you’d want to do after college?”

“Probably the same as what I am doing now in all honesty.” Jungkook responded, finishing off his salad, “Hey… uhhh… Y/n-sshi, can… can I have you number? I’d love to climb with you again.” Jungkook went shy again as he asked you and you really wanted to giggle at how cute he was acting.

“Of course.” You said, a large smile on your face as you pulled out a pen and wrote down your phone number, looking forwards to getting to know Jungkook more… and if things work out in your favor, maybe ask him out on a date.

Annoyingly enough, you stayed up later than you wanted just waiting for Jungkook to text you, something that your roommates took much joy out of making fun of. What was worse was that it took a whole other week before you saw the shy man again. You had been in the gym for two hours before you noticed the workers stop accepting new people coming in and another hour later you were one of the few climbers left in the building. It was strange as the gym was going to be open for another four hours but you guessed that the gym’s owner just didn’t want to let people in or was maybe trying to get some climbing team in for more hard training. Almost half an hour later you saw ten people come into the building, most of which were carrying camera gear or bags. It was strange to say the least.

What was stranger was seeing Jungkook and six other men who looked almost as good as Jungkook walk in almost five minutes later. It was jarring to see so many handsome men in the same setting but here they were. You stood there, staring at the seven men dumbfoundedly until you made eye contact with one of them. Their eyes widened and he seemed to talk to the others before pointing towards you. You quickly looked away, determined to finish off your climbing for the night without looking at them again.

Of course it didn’t work that way. You were trying your hand at a V5 when one of them started to furiously yell at the others in the group of seven. It shocked you out of your focused state and you looked over. All of the seven men were wearing make-up and trying to do some V3 you had managed to do earlier that week. The one who was yelling seemed to just be cut off by Jungkook, and the man’s face seemed to get redder by the minute as he continued to yell. It was funny to a degree but all you could focus on was that Jungkook and you were in the same gym at the same time and he never texted you.

The few other people who were in the gym before the seven started filming had left almost as soon as the camera crew told them that you might be on TV but you didn’t care. You were here to get your climbing fill in, even with your trigger-pull-syndrome and callous riddled hands and even with the possibility of getting filmed. Sure you were annoyed at Jungkook’s lack of messaging but you were honestly there to get a good climbing session in. You weren’t trying to obviously avoid Jungkook by leaving as soon as he went to get water near you when they took a break from filming. Nor when he tried to do a climb on the wall next to the wall you were climbing on.

Really.

You had no reason to avoid him.

You just also happened to have a somewhat long climbing endurance which lead to you calling it a day after almost six hours of climbing in total, the camera crew leaving around the time that you were as well. Jungkook and the other men who were being filmed had left ten minutes ago and the gym would be closing soon. You had felt bad for staying so late but you didn’t want to run into Jungkook at all. The man had to know that what he did was hurtful and rude and overall insensitive to you. He had to know! Why wouldn’t he know?

He has to know.

Really he has to.

Even if he was younger than you by four years and you were being somewhat immature.

As it turns out, Jungkook really didn’t get the message from you that day. It wasn’t until you saw the man a whole two months later that you finally talked again. You were starting to project some new V7 that a climbing friend of yours suggested and for what felt like the fifteenth time, you fell.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Jungkook asked and when you looked back at him, he was in a spotter’s position.

You rolled your eyes, “I am mad at you mister. Why didn’t you ever text me?”

“I… I was shy. I didn’t know what to say.” Jungkook was looking down, his neck and ears turning red.

You sighed, he was still young, “I understand, Jungkook-sshi. Please don’t be too shy with me tho. I really am not here to scare you.” You got up, not wanting to have to crane your neck to look up at him.

“I know… I just. Do you know who I am, Y/n-sshi?”

“What? You’re Jungkook? You work as a dancer? Should I know who you are?” You almost wanted to scoff. Was he prideful of who he was? Just because he was going to be in some random show?

“I am Jeon Jungkook.”

“A common name. Get on with it.”

“I am part of a band… BTS? Do you know them?” He said this quietly, almost as if he was worried that one of the few other climbers in the gym would hear him.

“I think I’ve heard of them. What’s your point?” You were utterly confused at this point. What was he trying to say? He was part of some random band, but why is that important?

“I’ve been in the idol industry since I was, like, thirteen, Y/n-sshi. I have almost no experience with girls. I mean, I have gotten better but still…” He said, voice was quieter now and he leaned closer to you as if this was some sort of large secret.

“But you have interacted with other people, right?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him as the two of you walked towards your stuff in the far corner of the gym.

“Yeah but it’s harder with you… because you’re cute and you are a girl.”

You laughed at this, “Yeah? Well you’re cute and you’re a boy.”

He stopped and looked at you with his mouth open, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Why yes I am and I was planning on asking you on a date after we talked more but you never texted me.” You said, crossing your arms and laughing at his shocked expression.

“I… What?”

“Are you really that shocked by me being attracted to you, Jungkook-sshi?”

“You really don’t know why I am?”

“You’re Jeon Jungkook. A guy in a band whose been climbing at my gym lately. I am sure I’d learn more if you actually texted me so we could hang out when I am not in the gym.” You said, a small smile on your face. Jungkook smiled back before running over to get his phone, leaving you slightly confused until:

Xxx-xxx-xxxx: You said you wanted to go on a date if I texted you? You looked up and met eyes with Jungkook, a laugh leaving your mouth as you walked over to him. You: Yeah. Xxx-xxx-xxxx: How about we go on one now? You: Sure.

102 notes · View notes

lazywriter7 · 6 years ago

Text

part by part

“And you won. Congratulations.”

Stark’s ribs are starting to show, ridges of bone pushing against pallid, stretched-out skin. His face is sallow, his fingers trembling. Nebula knows he hasn’t eaten anything for the past sixteen hours. He must be delirious; it’s why he’s saying such things.

But he sounds so sure. Like winning is that easy. Achievable. Like it hasn’t been designed for the express purpose of being a remote point on the horizon, to chase after with no peace or rest or end.

(warnings for canon violence and abuse)

They test her.

Component by component, before they attach it – (graft it, screw it onto her body, weapons bolted to a hunk of breathing flesh) – test the arm and leg and cranium. Melting point, freezing point, corrosion by acid and plasma, ability to withstand concussive impact. They ponder on the best metals, the best configuration. And then the components become parts of her and are tested again – because you couldn’t have a nervous system shutting down due to massive shocks, due to something as commonplace as pain. What use would that be? What use would she be?

You were insufficient before, Thanos tells her, and she’s so grateful for his honesty. For his commitment to making her better. You have to evolve.

But night falls on Sanctuary II, lights dimmed in homage to Titan’s diurnal cycle, and she’s strung up limb to limb and there’s no one. No Korath to sneer at, no Gamora to resent, no Thanos to grit her jaw for and pretend that she’s stronger than the agony. Just a body that has never been hers, and long fingers that trail delicately through the air, pulling her open.

You are replaceable, the Maw whispers – and in the dead of space, there’s nothing else to hear. She’d have torn out her vocal chords if she’d been allowed to keep screaming. Her heart is deadened under plated ribs and an engineered sternum. No value except what we choose to bestow.

Night falls on Sanctuary II, and Nebula believes him.

“And you won. Congratulations.”

Stark’s ribs are starting to show, ridges of bone pushing against pallid, stretched-out skin. His face is sallow, his fingers trembling. She knows he hasn’t eaten anything for the past sixteen hours. He must be delirious; it’s why he’s saying such things.

They’re shaking hands now. “Fair game. Good sport.”

Maybe it’s reachable if the rules are designed different. It’s a traitorous thought – her mind wants to flinch away from it, even now. There are other thoughts to console her – if he’d been in a better state, not half an inch away from starvation, she’d never have been able to beat him.

But he doesn’t look beaten. Stark looks calm, and has a warmth in his eye that is the most alien thing about him.

“You had fun?”

“I had fun.” She rasps – and the world tilts on its axis, and the world stays the same. Because she can’t go back, now. She’s accepted the victory, and it sweeps over her, baffling and wondrous. It’s nothing she remembers feeling, and yet she’s the same person she’s always been.

“Here.” Stark maybe says, and food is being pushed into her hands, and Mother smiles. Her silver hair has gone ragged and grimy-yellow, the sleeves of her tunic hanging loose on knobby wrists. They’re hunched under an awning together, water splashing around their ankles where the Close has been waterlogged for over two weeks now, same as all the narrow alleys in Sector V. But she’s holding a mallowfruit in her palms, slightly squashed at one end but still bright and purple, and Nebula rips it from her hand even though her own fingers don’t completely fit around it.

“Leave some for Aramis.” Mother cautions, but she’s smiling at Nebula’s grubby face and sticky chin, running grimy fingernails through her spiky locks of hair. “You know he hates it when you don’t share.”

Sweet on the outside, with a juice tangy enough to burn the back of your tongue. She hasn’t tasted a mallowfruit in decades. Stark would probably like it.

He doesn’t look surprised when she nudges the food back. It feels like a bigger revelation than winning.

Thanos believes that true gratitude is only possible when you know from where you came. From where you’d risen. It’s why he leaves her all the memories.

Pink skies over the city of Luphom, vivid and brilliant, like the colour of a Krylorian’s skin – tinting to a peach-like hue closer to the horizon. Hilly terrain, sloping streets, air sticky-hot as dawn ripened to dusk, humidity bursting to torrential rain when the night came. Every night without fail – it’s what she’d been named for. The constellations and nebulae that Luphom never got to see, a distant dream.

The rain fills up the streets, drains too narrow to flush out the sheer volume – and they all find their vantage points, the water-climbers. Up on a metal dumpster with a part of its lid still intact, the roofs of speeders long deserted in closed-down garages, in low-hanging balconies whose owners would never come out in the spitting rain. They’re water-climbers because they can’t be anything else, squatting in wet season on the streets.

Aramis can climb with the best of them. They are a laughing, frolicking pack – holey shoes and flyaway hair, not a full set of teeth between them. They find footholds in nothing, sail paper boats down the flooded road, splash and tumble and pull each other up; and Nebula shivers in her little awning, water licking at her thighs, mouth pursed stiff and envious eyes.

He always comes back though. He comes back when the rain stops and dawn is a fine film of mist away; slips a coin into her ragged pocket, and rests his head on her bony shoulder. She stays still until he starts snoring, and then winds her fingers through the fluff of his hair.

Aramis is eight, when the Sanctuary II warship blots out the pink skies of Luphom. Nebula is ten.

Heavy boots splash through the streets, dogged by the sound of snapping mongrels. Blasters. Crying. They’re all nimble, all hardened by what fate has chosen to dole out to them throughout their lives. No one escapes.

Except Nebula, you see – because she is separate from the pack. Separate from the masses huddling together, thin shoulders and pale faces, flinching back from the drooling maws of the mongrels. Shepherded together, knee-deep in water that tranquilly reflects the skies – pink that is steadily darkening as blood seeps into the streets.

She is separate and Thanos takes it to be a mark of strength. Takes her, and it isn’t until they’re halfway up the ramp to the warship that she scrapes together the courage to look back. Peers over the massive arm steering her trembling shoulders, sees the herds in the water. They’re too far now for her to make out any faces.

She searches anyway. Sight leaping from blurry face to blurry face – there, that glint of light off a pale head, that could be Mother–

The arm around her pushes. Nebula snaps her head away reflexively, immediately. She walks. Step after tiny step, till the water level recedes from her ankles; a last, clutching grasp before ebbing away entirely.

She remembers the feeling for years after. The touch of water retreating from her feet as she finally climbs high enough, and the sick pit of self-loathing in her belly.

The Benatar is unsettlingly quiet. It is an M-class spaceship, with only the two of them to putter around, but the raccoon has never struck her as the silent type.

He’s silent now, as they fly out of the Hiberlac system – all the planets in the vicinity have been hit hard by power and supply shortages in the aftermath of the Snap. They dropped off a shipment, and took off straight after by unspoken agreement; neither were comfortable with the all too palpable gratitude in the eyes of the people. It isn’t like they were up to helping with any of the real needs here – leadership, shoring up a crumbling social system, dealing with a population reeling with uncertainty, no idea of the true causes behind what had happened.

They’re in the cockpit now. The racco– Rocket, has been fiddling with the nav panel for the past hour, screwdriver held between his sharp teeth. He put it in there half an hour ago, after one too many times of opening his mouth as if to speak to a spectre, before clacking his jaw shut. He reminds her a bit of Stark in that way – the same strained, uneasy quiet while working, like they were too used to babbling at someone that was no longer there.

(After the glowing woman in Kree gear had brought the ship down to Terra, Stark had offered Nebula a roof for as long as she wished, even though he’d just been reunited with his wife – she’d considered it for a second, before remembering Rocket’s diminutive figure silhouetted against the massive, empty entryway to the Benatar. It hadn’t really been a choice, in the end.)

Rocket screws open a corner of the panel, before screwing it down closed again – he isn’t really paying attention to what his paws are doing. His eyes, beady-black and reflecting the shine of the plasma lights, are staring fixedly at a point on the floor. There seem to be a few grains of something brownish, maybe soil, flattened against the grey flooring.

He reaches out in increments, brushes against it gently with his toe.

“Do you want to play paper football?”

“Wha…?” Rocket blinks, head swivelling in Nebula’s direction.

Nebula presses her lips together, awkwardness twisting up her tongue. She can’t say it again. “Nothing. It’s just a stupid game.”

Rocket doesn’t say anything for a while, before – “Can’t be any stupider than Arcade Defender.”

She ponders that for a second. “What’s an arcade?”

“Hell if I know.” Rocket absently sets his screwdriver down, where it rolls away from him unhindered. “Quill had the game on him when he first left Terra. We couldn’t get Groot to stop playing it…. stupid handheld thing… you could only go left and right, and shoot at bits of light falling from the top. How dumb is that?”

“Very dumb.” Nebula says.

“Quill wouldn’t admit it, but he hated it when Groot started beating all his high scores. Insect chick just stood over Groot’s shoulder and watched like it was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.” Rocket’s whiskers fluff up a little, like a quiver of amusement. His eyes are glassy. “Drax only tried it once, and got game over in thirty seconds. Said, this machine has thwarted me, and never played again.”

Rocket’s small shoulders curl inwards, bent even smaller. “They were all so, so stupid.”

Nebula’s eyes flick over the metal ports embedded in his back, draggled fur and skin red and scarred-looking around them. It prods at the ache in her own mechanised joints. “Once… when we were younger, Gamora had just been rewarded for making her first kill. She came to find me, to share her winnings. We were both punished when this was discovered.”

That’s… not a funny story, just so you know. Stark’s imagined voice echoes in her head, a warm reproach.

But Rocket barks out a laugh, claws tapping heedlessly on the nav panel, “Yeah. She was pretty stupid too.”

Silence relapses in the cockpit again, six empty chairs and both of them squatting on the floor. A detached part of her mind wonders if Quill left his music-machine down here somewhere.

“It’s.” Rocket begins abruptly, words escaping half-bitten. “It’s better. Having someone around who also knew them.”

It’s like a glitch in her brain, trying to connect better with herself. Her entire life has been about eking out achievements, desperately clawing for better – how did she get it the time she isn’t even trying?

“You too.” The words escape her tongue on reflex, and Rocket nods as if he understands, even though she doesn’t.

Gamora would be proud. Strangely enough, it’s her brain forming the thought – not Rocket, or some remembered echo of Stark. The words don’t ring hollow, or false.

She would, Nebula repeats to herself. And I would totally beat her at paper football.

Coming face-to-face with herself is like cracking open that old pit in her stomach – loathing bubbling out uncontrollably.

Or at least, only for the first few seconds. It spikes and fades, and Nebula is left studying her own mirror-image, wondering what the others see when they look at the past version of her.

Cruelty. Slavishness to a despicable cause. All things worth loathing.

Yet, it’s remarkably difficult to hate something when it looks this desperate. This terrified. Maybe it’s why Gamora (herealiveherehere) tries to reason with the past version of her, even if Nebula knows for a fact it won’t work.

This version of her hasn’t spent three weeks drifting in space with a frail Terran man brave enough to go against Thanos. Hasn’t said ‘I wasn’t always this way’, only to hear back ‘neither was I.’ Doesn’t know a basic, solid truth –

It won’t stop hurting. Nebula watches her own face and feels the loathing seep away. Feels nothing. You think it will, but it won’t. He won’t stop hurting you if he likes you. He said he loved Gamora, and he came back with the Stone, and Gamora never came back at all.

This version of her lies on the ground, after Nebula presses the trigger. It doesn’t feel like an act of hate.

When she steps out on the battlefield, the Sanctuary II is looming in the skies.

For a second, she’s frozen in time. Chin lifted, heart frantic in her chest, watching a too-familiar nightmare. Except then the chaos around her filters in – the yells, the clash of steel, the sparks of magic and lightning and mongrels getting mowed down where they stand.

This isn’t a massacre. This isn’t an array of the defenceless, whose existence was deemed too burdensome to be allowed to continue. This… they’re fighting back.

The air is thick with dust, and Nebula breathes in it all. Her batons sizzle by her sides, electricity arcing up and down her arms.

She hacks and slashes her way through – plunges a baton into the gut of a mongrel and rips it right back out. One leaps onto her back and bites at the steel of her shoulder; she catches it by the head, and snaps the neck clean.

She’s brought down to the ground in the very next instance; a giant blade lodging itself in her knee, attached to a long, black handle – ah, Corvus Glaive. She’d always found the Black Order particularly repellent.

She turns on her back while she’s on the ground, rams a baton right into Corvus’ filthy maw. He howls with the pain, and she takes the few seconds to wrench his scythe out of her knee and swing straight for his head. It separates clean, and rolls to a stop next to her side – Nebula grits her teeth, spits out blood, and yanks her kneecap back in place. Pushes herself up; the pain is secondary. And she has yet to get to the figure in the centre of the field, towering over everyone else.

“You should have killed me.”

“Would have been a waste of parts.”

By the time she slaughters her way to the epicentre of the battle, Captain America and Thor are already down. Thanos is a hulking figure with his back to her, tall enough to eclipse almost everything else. He’s facing Stark, who’s half-braced on the ground, face bloody and ashen and etched with lines of desperation.

Not him. Nebula holds her batons at the ready, metal crackling viciously at her fingertips. Rage swirls through her head, a building blaze. Not him not him not him nothimnothimnothi–

Even across the distance, she can see Stark’s eyes flicker over to her, perhaps caught by the arcing electricity. His hand is half-raised, red-and-gold knuckles glowing with five blinding points of light.

Her fingers slacken, and the batons drop to the ground, sizzling against the soil. She stretches out a hand, unaware of what her face might be saying. Do you believe I can do this?

Stark’s face twists for a second, visible conflict and agony. Then his jaw straightens, firms up in resolve, eyes clear and trusting – and reaches his hand out toward her.

Thanos lunges forward, all-too-clearly realising his mistake, but it’s a second too late. The gauntlet streams through the air, broken down into its component parts – the wrist cuff slamming into her cybernetic hand, metal on metal, the interlocking plates following shortly behind. The Stones are six glowing points of heat on her unyielding skin, and she waits for them to slide in place before closing her eyes and breathing out.

Snap.

The pain. The pain is–

Nothing. Her arm begins to liquefy, gauntlet charring and dropping to her heels, elbow sloughing off after it. It’s nothing she hasn’t felt before, nothing that registers beyond the cold, furious triumph ringing in her head.

Her shoulder moults to a stump, and Nebula pushes herself up to her feet.

She looks down at the slurry on the ground. This is who she is. This is how she was made. An amalgamation of replaceable parts, each one discarded to make way for something better. This is the body she has, and it belongs to her.

At the corner of her vision, she can glimpse Stark’s face – bright eyes and lined with a savage sort of pride. There’s a ember of gratitude beginning to light in her chest, but there’ll be enough time for that later.

Nebula walks. She walks till she’s facing Thanos on his knees, and goes up even closer. Takes in every detail of the man – the dark eyes, the stolid chin, the lips so often flattened in dispassion but now trembling with pain.

Look at me. I did it. I did what you spent your entire life chasing, what nearly killed you, and it couldn’t even keep me down for a minute.

She doesn’t say any of it. Reaches out with her remaining hand instead, runs two fingers over where his brow is beginning to disintegrate.

“You never loved her.” She strokes down his cheek, like he used to with all of his children. His soldiers. And she smiles. “I won.”

Thanos crumples to dust at her feet.

It’s been pouring for the past hour.

Water plinks off the drainage pipes set into the roof, patters on the wet soil and rush-green leaves, hits the surface of the lake to set off a thousand ripples. The wind is angled enough to soak the back porch too, but Nebula is disinclined to move.

The floor is cold under her thighs, the wall colder against her back. She folds her legs in tighter, feels the spray of the rain on her shins. The world smells freshly washed. There are puddles forming beyond the porch, little pools of grey that ripple continually as the drops continue to fall.

She hears bare feet padding across the floor – her ears prick, but there’s no tell-tale sound of slipping heels or a yelp. She looks straight ahead, breathes out and waits.

Morgan comes and sits beside her, legs folding one over the other in imitation, till her bony knee pokes against Nebula’s thigh. Nebula doesn’t twitch.

A minute elapses, maybe more. Morgan fidgets with the hem of her t-shirt. “Do you like the rain?”

Nebula turns her head, regards the small face looking up at her. “I do.”

“I like the rain too.” Morgan scooches up closer to her, till they’re almost hip-to-hip – Nebula extends an arm on automatic, so the cold of the wall doesn’t filter through the thin material of that t-shirt. Morgan presses her back to the arm, small torso warm against Nebula’s side.

“Do you know how to make paper boats?” Nebula asks.

Morgan shakes her head.

“I’ll show you.” A brief pause, then Morgan presses her cheek to Nebula’s side. She’s said she likes the smoothness of the metal.

Nebula settles her hand on the back of her dark head. Winds her fingers gently through the hair, and watches the rain fall.

#avengers endgame #fixit #nebula pov #happy ending #nebula and tony #nebula and gamora #fanfic #canon divergence

29 notes · View notes

zayashmaya · 6 years ago

Text

Gods and Monsters - 9 - Cherry (Part 2).

Lanque x Reader; NSFW

More chapters here!

A confrontation with Lanque inspires you to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Some fanart of mc and the husbands that I commissioned from @cat-terpillar!

The situation you currently found yourself in could be described as nothing less than painfully, horrifically awkward and uncomfortable.

For you, at least. While you were busy trying not to crawl out of your skin, Lanque strolled beside you with an easygoing demeanor, waving pleasantly at familiar faces passing by. You made the mistake of looking at him during one of his friendly greetings, and when you caught a glimpse of that fake smile, you felt such a visceral punch of emotions that you decided not to look at him anymore during the remainder of the trip.

Unfortunately for you, Lanque was beginning to grow tired of the silent treatment. He cast you a sidelong glance and said, “You can speak, you knoW.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Then let me correct myself — I have many things to say, and I don’t feel inclined to do so.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “You had a lot to say the last time We saW each other. By all means, don’t start feeling shy noW.”

Your hands bunched up into fists as you recalled that unpleasant altercation. “Can we not do this, Lanque? I don’t know why you get so much joy out of fighting, but I don’t wanna get into it with you right now.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.” Were your ears deceiving you, or did you actually hear a hint of disappointment in his voice? “I’m curious about something, though.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “A Very handsome, Very famous highblood stole you aWay from me. Care to explain that situation?"

“Ugh, he didn’t steal me away from you. He freaking rescued me. And I’ve been friends with him for a while now.”

“Hmm, dare I say there is a bit of a social climber in you?”

“Marvus is a wonderful friend to me,” you icily said through gritted teeth. “I’m not an opportunistic fiend like you.” Or rather, you’re not anymore.But Lanque didn’t need to know that.

He had the nerve to chuckle. “Nothing Wrong With haVing the right friends in the right places. For example, they might come in handy When a pesky artist uses you for fame and recognition at the expense of your dignity.”

You groaned and dipped your head. “Please don’t tell me you witnessed that auction.”

“Oh, I did. And I loVed eVery second of it.” Lanque leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Seeing you in such a Vulnerable state on that painting was so scandalous." You jerked away from him and walked a few paces faster so he couldn’t see your blush. He laughed and caught up with you. “Namaaq should haVe asked me for some adVice on hoW to portray your body. Although she Wasn’t that far off, making you look like some sort of Wax figure.”

Somehow, his dig at your appearance did not phase you. Not when you knew about Marvus’s say on the matter. “I doubt you would have done me any justice either.”

“True.” What a piece of shit. ”So, don’t be shy — tell me more about this purpleblood character. Last I saW of you tWo, he had bought that idiotic painting and you disappeared again.”

“We — “ You thought carefully about how much you wanted to reveal to him. “We … left to deal with the painting in the manner it deserved to be treated.” Lanque looked at you curiously. You smirked as you fondly recalled the conclusion to your romp. "He wiped his genetic material all over it after we pailed at his hive."

Lanque furrowed his brows and pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Uh-huh. And What really happened?”

“If you think I need to justify anything to you, you’re dead wrong there.”

“What the hell Would a highblood see in you?"

"I don’t know, Lanque.” You smirked and pulled down the collar of your hoodie to reveal a lovebite Marvus unintentionally gifted you with. It had already been a few days since that night, and yet his presence still made itself known all over your body. “You tell me.”

Lanque eyed the mark with detached interest and looked away. “As if I’m supposed to belieVe a highblood did that. Do you think I’m stupid? The sign on your hideous hoodie tells me eVerything I need to knoW.”

“The — the sign?” You glanced down to the cerulean arrow zig zagging across your chest. “How is this relevant?”

“Please tell me you aren’t serious.” You clenched your teeth and refused to answer. Lanque shook his head. “I think it Would be far more hilarious if you asked WhoeVer gaVe that to you.”

“You know what? I will. Thank gods this conversation is over.”

Lanque humphed as you put some distance between you two, directing your entire attention to admiring the scenery of the brooding caverns. You were currently trekking through a path carved into the side of a cliff. Down below, you could see an endless sea of eggs and newly hatched grubs ripe for the picking. A handful of jades were carefully stepping around, either collecting the grubs or taking notes of the eggs.

Oddly enough, there were no drones in sight. You knew they were within earshot, their machine-like buzzing coming from somewhere in the distance. But without their immediate presence, you were almost lulled into a sense of comfort, fighting the temptation to steal away the grubs from danger.

“The jades don’t see much violence down here, do they?” you pipped up, curiosity overriding your earlier annoyance with Lanque.

He didn’t answer immediately, either surprised you were addressing him or reluctant to speak with you at all. "Apart from the culling, no. We groW up Watching hoW the drones operate, so We’re accustomed to culling the young from an early age.”

Your pictured the grubs’ frightened faces moments before death. It made you sick. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s just … so sad. This is supposed to be the one place where something as beautiful as life flourishes on this insane planet, and yet, in a way, here is where death begins.”

Death of the self. Death of Alternian morality. Death of countless innocents. How did the jades put up with this?

A dark expression fell over him. “Good to knoW Bronya’s Weak blood pusher hasn’t colored your vieW of What’s really happening here.”

“I thought you were going to judge me for being a softie,” you said lightly.

“I’m not blind to this shit; none of us are. But We do What we need to do in order to surViVe. Most of the jades like to pretend that We are safest doWn here, and that We haVe things under control, but the caVerns are just as fucking aWful as the surface.”

You silently looked back at the workers scouring the hatchery. No, not workers. Slaves to the Condesce. “I … I understand,” you quietly replied. “I know how it feels, to want to run away from it all.”

While you were turned away, Lanque roughly bumped your shoulder as he walked past you. You flinched and stamped down the hurt that coursed through you. “Ugh, shut up,” he waspishly said. "Don’t pretend to knoW me.” He threw you a dirty look. “You don’t knoW a damn thing about liVing such an empty life.”

He continued onward, unaware of you stopping dead in your tracks.

You should have laughed at his snide presumption.

You felt a wave of exhaustion overcome you instead.

The jadeblood hive loomed in the near distance. You walked with Lanque the rest of the way in silence, your energy to fight with him completely and utterly drained for the time being. The road was lit up by pretty bioluminescent growths, and if it were anyone else with you, you would have asked to take some home and gifted them to Charun for their art projects. But Lanque was emitting a prickly aura, so you kept your mouth shut and imagined holding the nursery grubs in your arms. Mirthful Messiahs knew you needed them right now.

You meandered through familiar corridors of the communal hive, trailing past Lanque in your eagerness to reach the nursery. A few jades greeted you warmly — and either blushed or glared at Lanque — as you said your hellos and peered into random rooms to see if you might catch a glimpse of Karako. But the young clown was nowhere to be seen, much to your disappointment.

“Do you know where Karako is?” you asked Lanque, hoping Bronya’s little secret was well-known among the jades.

He shrugged his shoulders with a long-suffering expression. “Who knoWs Where that little monster is hiding. Probably ran off to the Wilderness again."

You finally reached the door leading to the nursery. “Alright,” you lightly said as you took hold of the door knob, and paused. “And Lanque?” He quirked a brow at you. “Call him a monster again and you’ll be sorry.”

Lanque erupted into peels of laughter and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his giggles while you rolled your eyes and stepped into the nursery. The room was set to an ambient lighting, presumably to put less strain on the grubs’ developing eyes, and the peaceful silence was interspersed with bouts of chirping cries.

“Please, tell me,” Lanque said with soft amusement as he kept his voice low. “Wh — What are you — ahahaha — What are you going to do to me? Bore me to tears With your stale comebacks?”

“You did say earlier that it’s important to know people in the right places.” You stepped further into the room and let the wholesome environment calm you down. “And Bronya seems to be in the right place to nag you to death.”

Lanque bit his lip in an effort to cease challenging you any further and turned away from you with his jacket flaring behind him. “The grubs are mostly in the slime Vats, but the ones in those isolation pods — “ He motioned to a few machine-like contraptions lined against a far wall. “— are for the sick ones, so don’t eVen think of coming near them."

“I know how things work around here,” you flippantly said. Not even Lanque’s presence could sour your mood or deter you from your mission to play with the grubs. “Bronya said that I need to cheer up the cranky grubs and feed an isolated indigoblood. You can make yourself useful and do the latter.”

“HoW about you don’t tell me What to do,” he sneered.

“I mean, you could leave. No one is stopping you.”

“Fuck, you are particularly annoying today.”

“Likewise.”

You stared at each other for a moment. Surprisingly, Lanque was the first to give in, turning his attention to the cabinets without a single word to you. He searched for everything with experienced efficiency, producing a feeding needle loaded with paste in a heartbeat. The thought of Lanque being a frequent carer for the grubs unsettled you slightly — you didn’t want to imagine such a bastard having the capacity to be gentle with the young, and yet you recalled how Wanshi teased him so affectionately, and the way he seemed to genuinely smile when he ruffled her hair.

Nope, you were not going there. Time to meet the troll babies.

You crouched in front of a vat that housed one of your favorite grubs, a rustblood runt that fussed around too much and had the sweetest eyes. It blinked up at you in vague recognition as it laid in the slime with its little legs waving in the air, chirping at you demandingly. You smiled and scooped it up in your arms, cradling its head to your chest.

“Hello sweetie,” you softly cooed, holding it close to you as you maneuvered yourself to sit down and lean your back against the edge of the vat. The grub let out a soft growl and bared its sharp teeth at you as though it were yawning, and when you gently scratched between its horns, it stuck its tongue out and splayed out in contentment, nuzzling its little head further into the crook of your arm.

Lanque had his back turned to you, waiting for an isolation pod to open as it hissed and released some sort of misty vapor to reveal a grub. You watched him discretely to make sure he wasn’t being rough with the poor thing, but Lanque placed the feeding syringe down and picked up the grub with as much tenderness as you had. He looked it over silently and stroked its tummy with one finger before getting the needle and holding it to the grub’s waiting mouth.

You looked away and regarded the rustblood in your arms. One day, this poor grub will either get chosen by a lusus and live a dreary existence, or it will succumb to the circle of life before ever getting the chance to develop into a wiggler.

You tried to avoid thinking about their fates when you were in the nursery. It was an endless cycle of depressing realizations, and you had enough misery to deal with. A part of you wondered if Lanque shared the same concerns as you when he tended to the grubs.

There is no happy ending on this miserable planet, a voice whispered in your head. Not for any of us.

Suddenly, a sharp gurgling cry came from the vat, dragging you out of your thoughts. You peered over the rim and spotted the source of the noise — an oliveblood grub squirming in the slime within your reach. The disruption startled the others, prompting them to chitter nervously.

Cradling the rustblood in one arm, you reached over the edge of the vat and petted the fussy grub with gentle strokes of your finger, shushing it with random words of comfort. So lost were you in your attempts to calm the grub that you found yourself humming a quiet melody. As you rested your head on the arm still holding onto the oliveblood, you began to sing a favorite song of yours, one that had always spoken to your childish hopes.

Somewhere over the rainbow Way up high There’s a land that I heard of Once in a lullaby —

Your voice, oh so soft and gentle, seemed to hold some sort of sway over the grubs. As the cacophony of chitters died down, the oliveblood stopped squirming, staring up at you with wide, inquisitive eyes. You smiled at it and continued.

Somewhere over the rainbow Skies are blue And the dreams that you dare to dream Really do come true.

The ruckus had ceased, replaced with happy little meeps peppering the soothing silence. With one last caress of the oliveblood’s head, you checked on the grub in your arm and noted it had fallen asleep. You carved out a little indentation into the slime and placed the rustblood within, and when you looked up, you noticed Lanque was staring at you with an inscrutable expression. The grub in his hold was still sucking on the syringe for food.

You flushed and frowned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“ … “ He looked down at the indigoblood. “Don’t speW your heretical alien songs here. You’ll turn these grubs into cullbait.”

You struggled back onto your feet and moved on to another vat for cuddling. “What’s the harm in it? They won’t remember what I say.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. And anyWay, our job is to ensure their surViVal. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You glanced down at the new set of grubs and sighed sadly. “I guess you’re right.”

“Look Who’s finally starting to come to her senses.”

“Screw you,” you lightly quipped, yet there was no real bite to your words.

He hummed. “You can do better than that.”

“Shouldn’t I watch what I say around the grubs?” you asked, smirking up at Lanque as he scoffed and shook his head. “You know, I’m starting to sense a sort of civility forming here.”

“Yes, it’s remarkable to see you behaVe like a rational adult!” he said sarcastically, to which you rolled your eyes. “One Would think you Would hold on to your grudge, considering hoW horrible of a person you think I am."

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, necessarily. I just don’t approve of your … lifestyle choices.”

“And I don’t approVe of your fashion choices,” he snarked back, and yet there was an air of mildness to his tone.

You could not resist a dry chuckle, picturing the wild outfit you wore to Ardata’s party. “Can’t fault you there."

He regarded you cooly for a moment before getting back to work, finishing feeding his grub and checking its vital signs in much the same way you had seen Bronya do before. Sensing the conversation had come to an abrupt end, you busied yourself with the rest of the grubs, wiggling their little claw-like legs and calming down a few cranky ones.

The two of you went about your business without so much as a word between you. Whether it was awkward or not seemed to vacillate for you, and you were starting to wonder why Bronya was taking so long. Lanque showed no signs of discomfort with your presence. In fact, you felt as though he barely regarded you as a living organism when he was not addressing you. He finished with the indigoblood grub and repressurized the isolation pod, dumping the feeding syringe into a nearby compactor and began peering into the vats to see how the other grubs were doing. He came to a stop beside you and stood a little too close to your crouching figure.

“Oh,” Lanque chimed in. "I’Ve had such a miserable time Wigglersitting you that I almost forgot to mention hoW much of a pain in the ass Lynera has been for me.” He frowned and cocked his hip. “You can’t imagine hoW many shifts she’s throWn into my schedule. I can barely find a chance to get out of these damn caVerns.”

Was this Lanque’s way of complaining to you? If he thought he’d find sympathy from you, he was about to be sorely mistaken. “Serves you right for how you treated her,” you mumbled.

“I told you, it Was nothing less than What she deserVed.”

“Even so, you had the chance to be the better person. She was trying to come out of her shell, and you made her feel terrible.”

“Be a better person? Why the hell Would I eVen bother for someone like her?”

“I’m asking myself the same question with regards to you. Are you even capable of respect and decency?”

“I certainly am,” he flippantly said. “When the situation calls for it. But I don’t oWe anyone a damn thing, and the sooner you realize it, the sooner you’ll get oVer What happened betWeen us.”

You blanched at his statement and quickly scrambled to your feet. ”Excuse me?”

Lanque stared down at you with a smirk. “Isn’t that What this is about? It’s alright, you don’t haVe to use your precious Lynera to gain some kind of moral high ground oVer me. I knoW What I did Was fucked up, and I’m not the least bit sorry for it.”

“Fuck you, Lanque,” you hissed. "This isn’t about you and me. In fact, I don’t even want to respond to your insane accusations, because you’re wrong about me. You like to think that you have me all figured out, but you don’t. So fuck you — “ You whirled around and headed straight for the door. “ — and goodbye.”

“What, you’re giVing up just like that?” he called out.

You halted, feeling an odd sense of deja vu coming over you. Lanque seemed to take your pause for hesitation, crossing his arms with a triumphant smile. “Guess not. That Was easy.”

You felt the angry beat of your heart against your chest and the rising heat coloring your cheeks. Lanque approached you slowly from behind, equal parts teasing and careful lest you lash out. The instant his fingers trailed over your arms, you jolted and turned to face him, ready to unleash your frustrations.

Except he was very close to you now, hands hovering in the air after pulling away from you as you swiftly turned. You were momentarily stumped by his proximity, and he jumped at the opportunity, caging you with his arms on either side of you and leaning down to softly say, “This is your last chance, darling. Let it all out.”

Fine. Fine. You were done taking the highroad.

You stared up at him cooly. Not even seeing his handsome face this close to you could derail your anger. “You want to talk about ‘getting over it’? Ironic, considering the fact that you brought it up out of nowhere.” Lanque’s smile fell to a thin line. “I don’t care about that one-night stand anymore. Yes, what you did made me feel like shit, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for making fun of me out of some misguided sense of superiority, but that’s not what pisses me off about you. It’s the fact that Wanshi clearly loves you, for reasons that you apparently keep hidden away from everyone else because you’re afraid of anyone getting close to you. But you can be a good person, and that’s what makes me so damn angry.”

“You’re pissed because I don’t giVe you some kind of special treatment? Goodness, I thought you Were at least smart enough not to catch feelings, you must be a masochist — “

You grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him roughly down to your level. He blinked at you in surprise as you snarled in disgust, “I do not have anydamn feelings for you, you insufferable piece of shit. You’re an arrogant, two-faced asshole, and I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

He glared at you as his hand gripped your wrist none too gently. “Don’t try to act like an angel. You made me look like an absolute fool in front of my date.”

“Because I said you didn’t make me come?” You laughed bitterly. “I only said it because it’s true. In fact, I probably did her a favor by warning her. You’re not only an emotional vampire, but apparently a — an orgasm vampire, too! Taking whatever you can get without giving anything in return.”

“An orgasm Vampire … for fuck’s sake, I think I lose my intelligence WheneVer I listen to you.”

“Looks like you have none to begin with, because for someone who claims to be so repulsed by me, you really go out of your way to antagonize me and get up in my personal space!”

“Hmm.” And just like that, his rising temper fell into mild annoyance as he regarded your flushed face. Your grip on his collar had slipped away during your tirade, wanting to fall back at your side if not for his hand still keeping a hold on your wrist. As though he had read your mind, Lanque released your wrist and trailed a teasing path up your arm. When you jerked away from his touch, the corner of his mouth curled upward and a familiar glint appeared in his eyes.

You frowned and pressed your back more firmly against the door. “What are you thinking … “

“I’m thinking — “ he started, punctuating his words with a teasing lilt as he gripped your chin and tilted your face up. “ — that this is all feeling rather familiar.” His gaze flickered to your lips. “Don’t you think?”

The gears started turning in your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Fate sure had a messed up way of manifesting these situations for you, didn’t it?

“What the fuck do you want from me?” you tiredly asked.

Lanque hummed a light chuckle and bared his fangs at you with a coquettish smile. You felt his other arm slither around your waist to pull you in, and for the life of you, you could not understand why your body refused your willpower to resist him.

“Let’s haVe a repeat performance. I’Ve been thinking about your tight, hot nook eVer since that night.”

You blanched at his boldness, feeling a deep rage boiling within you. How dare he have the audacity to try to fuck you again? You roughly shook your head to dislodge his hold on your chin and tried to shove him away from you, but the damn jade was stronger than his lanky appearance seemed to suggest, entirely unyielding to your attempt.

Ha. Lanky. You made a mental note to remember that for a sick burn.

“You’ve been insulting me all day and you think I’ll spread my legs for you?” you asked, slight hysteria coloring your voice.

“Why not?” he said with a pout. “Are you really going to let some sass stand in the Way of getting your nook eaten out?”

You paused. As pissed as you were, the thought of his soft lips leaving lipstick stains all over your thighs was a tantalizing mental image to behold. “Is this an attempt at making up for leaving me unsatisfied?”

"Well, We can’t haVe you spreading such a Vicious rumor noW, can We?” His hands were at your sides now, trailing over your curves before settling dangerously close to your ass.

Your mouth suddenly felt very dry. You looked away, hoping to regain some semblance of control despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like how you did with me?”

He tilted his head and huffed. “Oh, relax. It Was just that one time. Don’t Worry, you aren’t that important to me that I’d go out of my Way to make your life truly unbearable.”

“And yet here we are.”

“Hmm. You really giVe as good as you get.” He almost sounded impressed, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as you looked back at him. "What happened to the socially inept alien I had the misfortune of meeting?"

"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

"Seems to me you’Ve finally groWn an exoskeleton. I’d hardly call that a bad thing."

You opened your mouth to deliver a retort, but found your words failing you. Despite how painful it was to admit, you knew Lanque was right on some level. You were always a notorious push-over — how else could you have secured most of your friendships with dangerous trolls? But Lanque brought out another side of you, and you were not sure if you were happy to discover this combative attitude. It might land you in quite a bit of trouble on Alternia.

While you were preoccupied with your racing thoughts, Lanque moved his hands a little lower to caress your behind, bringing your hips flush against his as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Enough stalling, sWeetheart. I’Ve less time to Waste than most, remember?”

When you didn’t answer, he kissed the spot right below your ear as though to test the waters. You shivered at the unexpected contact and did nothing more. Another kiss was stamped to your jaw, followed by the corner of your mouth, and with no resistance on your end, Lanque went in for the kill.

His lips caressed yours with a gentle touch, teasing and enticing you to meet him half-way. You remained still, even when he tilted his head and pressed more firmly against your unyielding mouth, moving slowly and peppering butterfly kisses until he finally got the hint and moved back an inch to look at your unimpressed stare.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be like that,” he coyly said, his tongue darting out to lick along his upper lip. “Are you really going to make me Work for this?”

“You offered,” you softly said, with only a hint of flustered raspiness. Your hand quickly slid into the hair at the nape of his neck, and you tugged him downward. “So get to it.”

His eyes widened as he hunched from your firm hold, and immediately fell back into his suave demeanor, slipping his hands underneath your hoodie and leaning in to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Oh my, What’s gotten into you?” he purred against your skin. "You Were so … affectionate last time."

You rolled your eyes and planned to urge him onward, but with your line of sight unobstructed now, you were suddenly hit with a horrifying realization.

You were getting felt up in a room filled with alien babies.

”Lanque!” you hissed, startling him out of his lust as you actually managed to shove him away. “We — we can’t do this here!”

He was still for a moment before glancing behind him. “Hm.”

The grubs were chirping from their vats. You raked shaky fingers through your hair and breathed, horrified with your lapse in judgement. What would Bronya say about your shameful behavior?

You smoothed down your clothing in frustration. “I can’t believe we were about to … ugh, what is wrong with you?” you hissed at Lanque.

He busied himself with readjusting his jacket across his shoulders. “Me? You Were seconds aWay from shoVing my face betWeen your legs.”

“Right. Like you weren’t practically salivating at the chance to eat me out.”

Lanque eyed you up and down and wordlessly grabbed your hand, forcing you to follow him out the door as you sputtered in confusion. The hallway was mercifully empty of any spectators who might question why you were being led into a closet across the nursery. Lanque locked the door behind him while you blinked in the darkness, feeling around the small space to gather your bearings.

There were no grubs stopping you now. You were all alone in a confined space with the closest thing you have to an enemy, and with his yellow eyes flashing at you in the dark, your arousal and anger resurged with a vengeance.

You crossed your arms and waited for his next move. Let the bastard put in some effort for once, you thought amusingly.

As it turned out, you did not need to wait for too long. Lanque's carefully maintained outfit was desecrated as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a pile of boxes, and you gasped when he effortlessly maneuvered you around him and against the door.

“Oh my gods you really want to do this,” you rambled, watching his eyes flutter shut as his face drew closer to yours. “We’re really about to do this in a closet this is — mmph!"

Your words were stolen from you in a breathless kiss. This time, you met his challenge with gusto, tangling your tongue with his and gripping him as close to you as he held you to him. It was fire, it was electric, it was bitterness and frustration that guided you both down this path, bodies melting into each other and your touch burning his skin, his fang cutting your bottom lip and you wrenching his head back by his hair — and he groaned — forcing him to watch you lick away the blood all by yourself.

“You’re not fucking with me this time,” you said through panting breaths.

Lanque growled, surging forward to plant his mouth at your neck — the side opposite from where Marvus had marked you — sucking and biting your sensitive skin as he expertly undid your shorts and shoved them down your hips. You bit your lip without thinking, wincing at the slight pain of his cut, and felt his fingers dig into your thighs.

With a final nip to your new love bite, Lanque moved up to breathe hotly in your ear. “Do you eVen knoW hoW pissed I Was after you said I didn’t get you off?” he harshly whispered. “HoW fucking dare you embarrass me like that?”

You giggled, and his nails nearly pricked your skin. “Was I wrong?” You angled your head to purr into his ear, “Why don’t you put your mouth to use then.”

Lanque pulled back to throw you a smoldering look and dropped to his knees without complaint, roughly pulling your shorts further down. In your eagerness to finally see what you had missed out on, you shimmied one foot out of your shorts and let him throw your leg over his shoulder, giving him a clear view of your nether region. You pulled up the bottom of your hoodie to see as much as you could in the pervading darkness.

One of his hands kept a firm hold on your ass while he trailed a finger through your folds, spreading the wetness back and forth until he retracted it, coming away with a slick trail clinging to his fingertip. His coquettish smile made you want to shove your foot in his face.

“Despite your holier-than-thou bitching, you’re quite ready for me, hmm?”

“I never denied that,” you groused, flushing lightly.

He chuckled and returned to lightly tracing your outer lips while he kissed dangerously close to the crux of your inner thigh. “It makes sense, I suppose,” he cooed, and kissed your other thigh. “Who Wouldn’t be excited to haVe me like this?”

Oh, that arrogance.

“Should I be, Lanque? Because so far, all I’m seeing is a whole lot of stalling. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

The look he threw you was absolutely murderous. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to anger a troll with sharp teeth when he was inches away from your crotch.

Lanque surged forward and shoved two fingers inside you as he dragged his tongue through your folds without warning. A current of sharp pleasure ignited within you. You keened at the sudden sensation and slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as his fingers began to pump into you, and after a few experimental licks around your core, he seemed to have surmised a rudimentary understanding of what you needed from him.

And he certainly would not give it to you right away.

He hummed a low tune, his mouth now fully pressed over your core as he licked and sucked in alternating rhythms. More often than not he purposefully avoided your clit, playing with your folds or running his tongue along your outer lips. And with his slightly warm breath ghosting over your clit with each pass of his maddening licks, you felt your last shred of dignity and restraint dissolve. Especially when his fingers hit a deep spot within you that made you roll your hips to draw them further in.

You curled your hands around the base of Lanque's horns. His eyes fluttered open to look at you in question, and you flashed him a peeved expression as you tugged him up until his lips brushed over your clit. “Right there," you sighed, and when the tip of his tongue quickly flicked it, you dug the heel of your foot into his back and yanked him closer.

Finally, finally he gave in, latching on to your clit with unrelenting attention and adding a third finger to your soaking pussy. Your head fell back in a wordless cry, and you fought as hard as you could to keep from moaning. It was nigh impossible, with the sound of his wet licking permeating the small space and heightening your pleasure all the more, but you held strong regardless, focusing on breathing and chasing after sweet release.

And with a particularly well-placed thrust of his fingers, you were an absolute goner — Lanque kept a firm hold on your thigh to hold you in place as you pulsed around his fingers and pulled at his hair, letting out a breathy sigh and silently thanking your luck that he was letting you ride out the post-coital wave with broad, flat strokes of his tongue.

As you sagged back against the door, Lanque removed your leg from his shoulder and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothly standing back up to tower over you. He leaned down as you panted and kissed you, running his tongue along yours to let you taste yourself. You pursed your lips around his tongue and sucked as you pulled away, feeling his hands grip your waist and relishing in his quiet moan.

A heartbeat of silence passed between you as you simply looked at each other. Lanque arched his brow and titled his head to the side. “Well?” he haughtily asked.

Either he anticipated a rating of his performance, or he expected something in return. You deigned to offer him the latter option, guiding him to take your place at the door. He dutifully followed your lead, staring down at you with a heated look.

You hiked up your shorts around your waist — Lanque quirked a brow at that — and settled down in front of him, slowly pulling down his pants as your hands trailed along his outer thighs. He had the common sense to unbutton his shirt, moving the bottom flaps out of the way to give you unrestricted access.

“You’re being surprisingly cooperative,” you noted, sitting up straighter as your fingers glided up his inner thighs and settled at his slits, teasing the openings with light touches.

“No reason to drag things out — ooh … ”

The tip of your tongue entered his nook and massaged his inner walls. The familiar minty taste you expected was muted by a tang of bitterness. Probably because of all the drugs and alcohol, you wryly thought as you dipped in even further before fully retracting your tongue to lick and kiss his wet slit.

His hand gripped the back of your head and pulled you in closer, earning a growl of warning and a sharp glare from you. Lanque merely smirked — you were getting really tired of that damn smirk by now — and spread his legs a little wider.

“You look good like this,” he purred, stroking your hair. “Let’s see What that highblood taught you, sWeetheart.”

Oh, I fully intend to. You ignored him and trailed your lips up his nook, leaving playful little licks here and there as he moaned above you. Your thumb ran along the sheath of his bulge in a slow figure-eight trail, and your heart raced in victory when you felt the slightly chilled tip of his bulge slide out from the slit.

Your mouth was replaced with your fingers at his nook, parting his folds teasingly before you slipped in two fingers to the knuckle. You kissed his thigh and busied yourself with etching a reminder of this encounter on his skin, and the subtle push of his hips had you curling your fingers deep within him to elicit a rumbling groan. His bulge was fully out now, undulating in unnaturally alien flexibility as it sought out your attention.

You could go slow and sweet to warm him up. Your fingers were beginning to wrap around the base before he impatiently angled your head to the tip, and with his fate now sealed, you looked up at him to catch his stare as you wrapped your lips around it and brought him nearly halfway into your hot mouth at the same time as your fingers reentered his nook, letting your tongue cushion the underside of his bulge as it slid in with ease.

Lanque’s head fell back against the door with a muffled bang. “Oh, fuck," he breathed out, fighting against your hold at his hip as his bulge writhed against the back of your throat. You couldn’t suppress the gag that followed, and he moaned in response. “Yeah, that’s it … choke on my bulge, kitten.”

You did not want to think about the shiver of pleasure that ran down your spine.

His bulge was mercifully far more manageable than Marvus’s had been. You focused on relaxing your throat despite the occasional twisting and undulating, sliding your tongue around its slick, textured sides and adding suction whenever you pulled back to the tip. His harsh panting and deep groans were far more pleasing to you than you wanted to admit.

Your fingers fucked into him at the same time as you sucked him off, and you felt the cold sensation of his fluids creeping down your hand and past your lips to trickle along your chin.

He curled a hand beneath your chin and wiped some of the pre-slurry away with his thumb. “I’m going to — unf — I’ll stain those pretty lips of yours a loVely shade of green for your — your damn highblood to see later,” he whispered harshly, and you swallowed around his bulge in retaliation, eliciting a breathy whine and a demand for more.

Bold of him to presume that Marvus would be jealous in the slightest. You were tempted to tell him exactly that, but you were also particularly enthralled with how desperately he was grinding against your fingers and slowly unravelling under your ministrations.

And yet, it was time for fate to resurface. Who would she be cruel to this time?

Your name echoed through the hallway.

“Oh, hell no,” Lanque groaned, bringing both hands to the back of your head. “Keep — keep going, aaah, don’t stop — ” His breath hitched as his nook fluttered around your fingers.

Once more, your name was called out. “Where the heck did she go … “ you heard the distant muffle of Bronya's muttering, her voice closer to the closet now.

Lanque’s bulge twitched at the disruption. Did he have a thing for nearly getting caught in the act?

Just as a pulse of pre-slurry coated your tongue, a very wicked plan manifested in your mind. A very wicked and rewarding plan.

You fought to keep from smiling, your mouth stretched around his bulge as it was, and retracted your fingers from his nook. Lanque bared his fangs in a grimace, and to distract him from acting up, you carefully extracted his hands from your hair, surprised and delighted that he was offering no resistance at this point. The poor bastard must be desperate for release.

You grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands to the door as you struggled to draw his bulge even further into your mouth. The tension in his muscles seemed to both relax and tighten at the same time, and you swallowed around him again, your throat contracting around his length —

Bronya, again. “Maybe she left already … “

— Lanque rolled his hips, his moan hitching with a sharp intake of breath —

And you promptly slid his bulge out of your mouth to loudly proclaim, “I’m here, Bronya!”

Footfalls stopped nearby. You quickly stood up and readjusted your shorts, leering at Lanque as he stared at you in utter disbelief, his bulge flushed and wriggling out in the open air.

“Better put that away, kitten,” you whispered, fishing out his red handkerchief from the discarded jacket to wipe away the pre-slurry coating your hand.

You words seemed to prompt him back to reality. He hurriedly tugged up his pants and winced as his bulge slithered back into its sheath. “You fucking bitch,” he hissed, fighting with the buttons at his shirt, and you couldn’t help it, couldn’t even hope to stop the shit-eating grin on your face as you cleaned your chin and pocketed the handkerchief.

Before Bronya could get too close, you shoved Lanque aside while he fixed his clothing, nearly tipping him over in the process as you opened the door and let the blessed light wash you free of any guilt. You narrowly dodged a kick and rushed out to face a surprised Bronya, a palmhusk in hand as she presumably had been in the middle of texting you.

“Hello there! What were you doing in the storage closet?” she curiously asked, eyeing you in slight suspicion.

“Just trying to find something in there for the grubs,” you smoothly replied, waving a hand carelessly. “Lanque was helping me, too.” You turned around just as he had stepped out of the closet, angrily fixing his jacket back around his shoulders and staring at you with orange-tinged eyes.

Bronya walked right up to him, heedless of his murderous aura. “Lanque, look at the state of you! Are you feeling alright?” Bronya asked in a motherly tone, reaching out to help him do up the remaining buttons of his shirt. “You’re all flushed … “

“Hey, Bronya,” you called out, and she looked over her shoulder at you. Lanque never stopped glaring daggers at you. “I just realized I needed to meet with someone soon, so I can’t stick around for longer. I’m so sorry I didn’t warn you earlier, I was just so caught up with calming the grubs and searching that darn closet!”

“Not a problem!” she happily chirped, finishing up the top button of Lanque’s shirt and reaching for the undone tie. “Thank you for your help, I hope you’ll stop by again soon.”

“Oh, I will,” you drawled, fixing Lanque with a pointed look. “See you later, Bronya.” You turned to walk away, and called out, “Bye, Moonshine!”

“Moonshine?” Bronya murmured, and just as she nearly tied up the knot of Lanque’s tie, he smacked away her hands with unrestrained force and barreled past her. She let out a sharp gasp and jolted backward, her wide eyes trailing after him as he paced towards your retreating figure.

Just when you thought you had finally escaped, Lanque caught up in a few strides and grabbed your wrist, wrenching you around so roughly that you might have felt a bone pop. You winced and said nothing more, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of having any sort of impact on you.

He glared down at you with such seething anger, fangs bared and skin still flushed a vibrant jade. You merely looked up at him with a bored expression and waited.

“Give me your Chittr handle,” he forced out through gritted teeth.

Oh.

Oh gods, did you want to laugh.

“No,” you said sweetly, pried his grip off your wrist, flashed him a cheery smile, and went about your merry day without so much as a backward glance.

#let the sass games begin #homestuck #hiveswap #friendsim #lanque bombyx #lanque #lanque/reader #lanque x reader #gods and monsters #bucket time

42 notes · View notes

colubrina · 6 years ago

Note

Prompts Request: Take 2, to make up for the lack of Dramione you were sent. How about Dramione and wine tasting? If this doesn’t interest you, please feel free to disregard it. 😊

Hermione looked down at her watch, then up at the clock on the wall. Both agreed. It was ten past the hour. She was on time, she was here, and the teacher was late. This was not the most auspicious way to start out a wine tasting class.Though, really, it had been a pretty cursed class from the start. She’d gotten it as part of a Secret Santa exchange at the Ministry and she’d been charmed. It was an expensive gift and a thoughtful one. She’d been talking at the coffee pot just the week before about how she wanted to learn more about wine and look what someone had gotten her. A semi-private class with a French sommelier in January.

Who was late.

Ron had told her it was a ridiculous thing. “It’s not like you can afford any of that fancy wine,” he’d said. He’d called her a social climber, and accused her of looking down on his family because they were poor. As a fight, it had come out of nowhere, then seemed not so much surprising as inevitable. He’d stormed out and done that thing he did where he waited for her to come back and smooth things over. Only this time she hadn’t. She’d kept picking up the gift certificate for the class and weighing the heavy card stock in her hand. Ron had given her a book she’d already read. It had been sitting on the kitchen table for over a month and, somehow, he hadn’t noticed.

She was tired of not being noticed, of being taken for granted except when she was useful. She wanted to know about wine. It wasn’t a crime. She liked wine, and museums, and trips abroad, and Ron liked cottage pie and beer and talking about Quidditch down at the pub. They weren’t bad things. They just bored her. And, if she was being honest, cottage pie reminded her of boarding school food and not in a good way.

Maybe she was a snob, and maybe it was ridiculous, but she’d decided on the wine tasting and that had resulted in her ending a relationship so it better be worth it.

It was now fifteen minutes late starting.

She sat down at the little oak table and was beginning to wish she’d brought a book. Waiting was much less uncomfortable when she had a book to read. She didn’t need to explain why she was sitting around, doing nothing. She didn’t need to feel awkward. She was glancing at her watch again when the door opened and a tall wizard she didn’t know walked in. He had four bottles tucked under each arm, several glasses floating in front of him, and Draco Malfoy behind him.

Hermione’s jaw clenched at the last of these.

“Malfoy,” she said as politely as she could manage. They both worked at the Ministry. They’d been courteous for several years now. She could do this. She’d never had to work directly with him, of course, which she’d never stopped to appreciate until now that it looked like he was the only other student in the class. But it would be fine. Though, this really was the most ill-fated Secret Santa gift ever.

“Granger,” Draco Malfoy said with a tip of his head. “You’re looking well.”

He pulled out a chair and sat next to her as the wizard – clearly the sommelier – sat out glasses with fussy precision the consulted a sheet of parchment. “I have more bottles to get,” he said, and swept away, leaving Hermione alone with Draco Malfoy for what might be the first time ever.

She forced a smile. “We must have had the same Secret Santa,” she said. That he should randomly sign up for the same class was far too coincidental to be true.

“Indeed,” he said. “What luck.” He glanced uneasily at the door. “Perhaps I should go help M. Frambois with the bottles he was looking for.”

A small piece of paper fell out of his pocket as Malfoy hurried from the room, surely eager to get away from her, perhaps even going off to see if he could reschedule. Hermione accioed the scrap over so she could return it to him – no reason not to be helpful with little things, neither of them were children anymore and the war was long over – and idly read what it said.

It was a receipt for the wine class. Dated the day after she’d mentioned at work she was interested in taking one.

She’d once told Ron she was highly logical. It didn’t take immense logic to figure out Draco Malfoy had overheard her comment and bought her a gift. Which would have made sense if he’d been her Secret Santa. It wasn’t as if they got to choose, after all. Names were drawn out of a hat. But it didn’t make any sense at all for him to be the other participant unless –

Hermione slid the receipt down into her own pocket and began to smile. When the sommelier and Malfoy came back, carrying 8 more bottles between them, she scooted her chair over so they could put the bottles down on the table. “Did I tell you at work that Ronald and I broke up?” she asked.

Draco sat down next to her. “No?” he said, his voice cautious.

“Apparently being interested in wine makes me a snob and he found that untenable.”

The sommelier sniffed. “Wine,” he said, “is for everyone, and an appreciation of wine, like an appreciation for good food, is part of being civilized.”

“Ron didn’t agree,” Hermione said.

“Then you are better off without him,” the sommelier said. He began to open the first bottle.

“I quite agree,” Hermione said, “but as a result of that, I find myself eating quite a bit of takeaway. It feels a bit pointless to cook just for myself.” It was an opening, and she tossed it out casually, watching Draco Malfoy out of the corner of her eye to see what he’d do. The sommelier sniffed again, his opinion of takeaway more than clear, but it was Malfoy’s reaction she was interested in.

“You shouldn’t not eat after a class like this,” he said. His voice wavered between cautious and his more usual sneer. “I can probably manage to get us a reservation, even at last minute like this, just because you’re not competent at feeding yourself.”

“I mean, if you can,” Hermione said airily. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

He could. Dinner was lovely. A bit tipsy, maybe, as they’d swallowed far more wine than M. Frambois recommended, but lovely.

Dessert at her place was lovelier still.

She didn’t have any eggs though, or bread, or really anything else, so when they woke up, hungover, hungry, and surrounded by dozens of bottles of wine Draco had bought at the end of the tasting, she began to laugh.

“What is it?” Draco asked. He somehow managed to sneer even at 9AM, even with his hair tousled and no clothes on, which made Hermione laugh even harder. How had she never realized he was absolutely, utterly delightful. She leaned forward to kiss one side of that sneer and felt it soften under her mouth as he opened his lips.

“If you want breakfast,” she said, “it’s either wine or takeaway.”

They got takeaway.

#dramione *writing #quiet-compassion

57 notes · View notes

gg-astrology · 7 years ago

Text

GOT7: Im Jaebum - Inner Planet Natal Chart Reading

💕Hello! It’s my obligated duty as a Capricorn to talk about other Capricorns! So today, we’ll be looking at another Capricorn-- Im Jaebum from GOT7! I was contemplating whether or not I’ll do an overview or a inner planet natal reading, but I figured-- eh, I might as well go full out!

This will tie in somewhat to my earlier SVT series since I touched on Joshua’s Capricorn-Capricorn, Seungkwan Capricorn-Virgo and now Jaebum’s Capricorn-Taurus (see: link in note at the end on how to find your own decans).

I hope this gives you insight onto how he behaves/reacts! You don’t have to read the previous posts to understand this. I hope you enjoy the read!

@somewhere-inwonderland, sorry it’s been so long but I finally got around to doing a reading for him! Thanks for requesting it in, this was super fun to do! I hope this does him justice! 💕

Masterlist

💕disclaimer: i’m not claiming to be an expert astrologer nor do I know these people personally. These are my interpretations and how they’re working based on my experiences/studies on them. Everyone has different opinions/studies in astrology, please be mindful of others and all interpretation/experiences is valid to an extent. However, feel free to make your own post or skip if you strongly disagree. There might be inaccuracy and difference in opinions. But the point of this post is to entertain and relate. I’m hoping to help people with similar experiences and get people excited about astrology. Also, since we don’t know most of their birth times, I’m using the standard 12.00pm💕

Im Jaebum (JB) January 6, 1994 (Goyang, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea)

Capricorn Sun - 2nd Decan (ruled by Venus/Taurus)

I’ve been talking about quite a few Capricorns these past few days, it’s only right that I finally get to talk about the last of the Capricorn decan -- Capricorn influenced by Taurus/Venus !

People say Capricorns are bland and boring but honestly there’s so many different types and tonality to a Capricorn they can’t just be grouped into those adjectives.

Capricorns influenced by Venus are one of the most alluring decans Capricorns can be in. Those blessed by the planet of social relations are full of charm, and even in their native form they exude the type of charisma and comforting serenity to them that it’s hard for others not to like them.

In fact, Capricorns in the Taurus decans are usually very magnetic people. They don’t tend to be overtly aware of the effect they have on those around them, but they can often find themselves drawing eyes where-ever they go.

Their quiet nature are often seen in one of the most favorable light, honest and naturally charming they usually have a youthful look to them. A childish, innocent aura no matter how old they get.

They’re dependable, sure. And are often reliable people, but they’re not afraid to show that they have some vulnerabilities to them. (often unexpectedly, as in when they let their guards down)

In fact they often take advantage of it, instead of seeing their softer sensitive side as something they have to guard/hide, they’re much more laid back in terms of allowing people to help them than other Capricorn decans. (There’s complications to this, see later)

These people often feels like a kid at heart. At their core, they cry easily when they feel like they’re not being supported.

Despite trying to carry the load by themselves, and the usual Capricorn ‘facade’ -- they are the types who are much more willing to open up genuinely to other people than their other Decan counterparts once they get past the initial struggle of figuring themselves out, whether or not they want anyone to help them or not (This is just something all Capricorns have to go through).

There’s still a sense of mystery to the Capricorn natives, but Capricorn Taurus trusts are much more welcoming and accepting of others. There’s a warmth to them that Taurus brings, different from a Capricorn-Virgo decan that relies on Mercury to facilitate intimacy through forms of intellectual balance. Capricorn Taurus trust for the sake of intimacy, and they’re often very caring and comforting people to be around.

You can’t deny that underneath all his ‘strong, cool’ persona there’s an innate gentleness to his charm. Like a shyness and a deep-rooted devotion in him for the people he cares about/let in.

Capricorn-Taurus are almost unshakable when they set out for something. Whether it’s about their own opinion (incredibly stubborn) their sense of self or their trust on someone. Although they can be shy and appear sort of nervous when they first start letting someone through, you can be sure that somewhere along the line that devotion will turn in a long-lasting fidelity they’ll have for the person.

Comparative to other Capricorn decans, Capricorn-Taurus are also much more optimistic and less weighed down than Capricorn-Capricorns or Capricorn-Virgos. While others might exercise caution that turns self-destructive tendencies (chronic isolation-habits, distrust of anyone, hyper-critical and suspicious of anyone who approaches them) -- Capricorn-Taurus are one of the most social of the bunch (Venus rules social relationship)

Although they’re quiet, they easily enjoy being surrounded by others. They don’t necessarily need to talk (responsive like Capricorn-Virgo Decans) but they want to feel accepted and just --‘let be’, in the groups of people they’re surround themselves with. Most of the time, it’s very homebody-attitude, they’d rather fall into comfortable familiar habit with someone than -- y know, verbally changing it up all the time.

Taurus is the youngest of the earth signs. They’re easily appeased by Things (food, immediate gratifications, hugs, spontaneous physical contact) but with Capricorn being one of the oldest signs, they also have heightened sense of responsibility and ambitions about them.

Capricorn-Taurus are big aimers, they don’t necessarily have to know what they’re aiming for or if it’s possible. But generally, they’re not satisfied unless they have a goal/drive. The combination of the goat and the bull makes them a consistent and steady climber, a feet-on-the-ground but eyes-on-the-prize type of person. No one really knows what’s at the summit, but they’re the kind of person who would climb for the sake of reaching that top and then take it from there.

They’re not one to -- over-worry or over-work themselves unnecessarily, in fact Taurus gives them a pretty good balance of common sense (what they can do/achieve) and relaxation. They know how to indulge in their breaks, and knows when to stop working. One of the things that allows them to make time for social interaction at all is this easy-going, laid back but balanced (disciplined) manner they have with themselves and their own mental health.

Capricorn-Taurus might also tend to put social relationship as one of their top priorities unlike Capricorn-Capricorn who puts tradition, principle and fidelity (concepts) to the fore front. Capricorn-Taurus cares for the people they actually know. Family, friends and lovers are important. And the things they do, they consider and try to support those people around them.

To them, it’s all about balance. Between self-independence and goals while simultaneously learning how to be a good support system/be there for others around them. They’re not the type to ditch people (unless they have something else in their chart that indicates it)

Although one thing to make note of is that they’re usually the most stubbornly tight-lipped out of all the other Capricorn decans. They’re extremely uncommunicative when it comes to their feelings unless they learn how.

Most of the time, Taurus makes their love so deeply rooted and devoted the Capricorn self-restraint keeps them from ever speaking about it. They feel like they exude this love, this gentleness that they can often feel like verbally communicating it, is an entirely different, foreign language to them.

Love to them comes physically, and in the context of time, devotion, actions and auras. So talking or stating how they feel about others might take some time because they have to learn how.

It’s sort of like, trying to be ambidextrous? They’ve learnt how to show their affection physically since they’re a child (imagine being right-handed) that learning a different component of showing the same kind of love can feel awkward to them (learning how to be left-handed).

Unlike Capricorn-Virgo who can become verbally communicative (but tsundere) about it, or Capricorn-Capricorn who just-- states things without emotions sometimes (doesn’t mean they don’t feel emotions, just that they don’t want to burden others with their emotions) -- Capricorn-Taurus are usually in a very awkward in-between where they feel like they have this potential and expectancy of themselves, to be fluent and good at communicating their love verbally too (because they do feel all that love and it needs to be externalized) yet at the same time, they lack practice.

What makes Jaebum such a good leader is his striving nature. Capricorn-Taurus are set to pursue whatever it is they made their mind up to. Once they make it a goal, they’ll aim for it and won’t stop no matter the set back.

Capricorn Sun makes him extremely resourceful, and having that Taurus decan working for him makes him good at flipping a bad situation to stabilize the whole team (optimism and realism). No matter how ‘world ending’ a situation can be, he’s the type to tell others ‘its ok, we’ll keep trying’ -- a natural fighter, but in a grounded and stable way.

He definitely needs space, since Capricorn does tend to make him need his time away from others. Usually, it’s with people who are too nosy or Air/Fire signs who pushes and pushes too much into his business. He likes his independency, yet at the same time doesn’t like to admit his weaknesses/vulnerabilities.

Although he knows that he craves intimacy to others and the only way to show people he cares is to let his guards down. His Capricorn remains stubbornly fixed on maintaining a facade in front of others, and it lead to becoming a defense-mechanism that might cause him misunderstanding or appearing ‘two-faced’/’cares only for his statues’ when he’s with people he truly cares about. (He does it to protect himself/them that it becomes misunderstood instead. Can often feel like being stabbed in the back from the person you’re protecting. )

Watch for being stuck in a relationship that may be toxic, more so than the person, he himself can be fixed in trying to work the relationship alone. Like all the other fixed-signs, he can try to maintain a failing relationship just because he’s devoted himself to it already (emotional intensity/commitment).

Aspects

Sun (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Mercury (Capricorn)

He possesses great mental prowess, often times a great and eloquent conversationalist and leader. His voice and his sense of self aligns, making him seem reliable and dependable.

Has great magnetism and power in the way he talks. People listen and feel awestruck by him. He can be soothing but also commanding.

A direct talker and thinker, he comes across as someone honest and honorable. What he says holds weight to whoever is listening.

However, he tends to be an over-thinker, and a bit of an over-worrier. His pride lies on his mental and verbal capabilities, takes on responsibilities so seriously that he can often feel like he’s disappointing people around him (even though he’s just disappointed in himself).

This might be his downfall considering he probably goes back and hits himself over everything he says, because he thought he could’ve done better.

Watch for self-decrepitation or destructive behaviour that comes from self-doubt or frustration at not being ‘enough’ or ‘doing enough’. He often feels like he has to be more, prove more and has to be accepted/loved by everyone.

He causes himself worries over the future and tends to stress himself out, even on things that hasn’t even happened yet.

Because he puts the weight of those who are depending, on him on his own shoulders. He likes to ‘hard carry’ everyone.

It might become a habit, and therefore it’s much more detrimental to him than anyone else. His biggest pride is also his biggest downfall, doesn’t know how to let anyone else in.

Incredibly stubborn on his performance and perception of himself, his self-worth is tied to his mental fortitude/ability to ‘wow’ others. Incredible hard to let his guards down, and doesn’t really know how to let others support him back.

On a lighter note, he’s extremely humorous. Often witty and takes alot of care/pride in cheering other people up due to his quips and humor, he can tend to feel hurt easily (gets whiney/sulky) if he feels he’s not heard or ignored. Especially if he made a ‘funny joke’ and tends to look for others for validation (can even point it out blatantly ‘look at what I did’ looking for some praise-- which is, endearing.)

When he’s talking to people he’s comfortable with, on a topic that he’s interested in he can become very expressive and animated. He doesn’t like being made fun of for that, since his joy and sense of self can come across looking very pure, naive and sometimes childish. Despite how his facade makes him ‘mature’ -- he really is more childish at heart.

Humorously, unless the conversation is about him he doesn’t really care for it. Can have a dramatic, often ‘me-first’ attitude (Sun) towards conversations (Mercury). Likes talking about himself best.

Sun (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Venus (Capricorn)

His sense of self (Sun) is tied to his social relationships (Venus). Again, it can be a double edge sword especially since Capricorn (in both planet) places an emphasis on fidelity, responsibilities and establishing a long-term relationships with others.

Even when the relationship might be taking advantage of him, or even if he’s uncomfortable in the relationship -- devotion and fidelity might sometimes be enough to keep him tied in it anyways.

He can also often feels like he has to carry over the burden of others along with him, and tends to worry about things he usually isn’t responsible for. Underdeveloped Capricorns finds it hard to say no to people when they come to them for help, even when they don’t have the resources to spare. This can lead him into a lot of stress/worries in disappointing others, and therefore-- more self-destructive behaviors.

Because he’s so naturally well-liked, and gifted in appeasing others, people come to him in flocks. He’s admirable and honorable, and often draws the awe of everyone else around him to him.

Has a gift for mediating and being diplomatic, but often times it can feel stifled or dogmatic in his approach. Because his Venus is in Capricorn, he ‘reviews’ the overall objectivity of the fight (whether it was a valid thing to fight over in the first place) to be the deciding factor sometimes. Can have a hard time not upsetting one-side because he doesn’t really know how to deal with emotional-fights, or one based on subjectivity.

He relies alot on people coming to him, and often doesn’t really know how to pursue other people. He can often find himself confused whether or not he is actually, genuinely attracted to someone for who they are, or just because they like him, that makes him automatically likes them.

The lines between what he actually looks for in his friend groups, or people he surrounds himself with can be blurred. And he may find himself in people who are just sucking up to him or looking to take advantage of him.

Sun (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Mars (Capricorn)

Work comes first above all. He’s strongly disciplined and possesses great self-restraint. In fact, he does fantastic in his roles and job that he’s often promoted and trusted to do more. He thrives on an environment that is structured (JYP is pretty big, and well established) and often very adept at climbing the ladder.

He feels he can control this part of his life (which is so important to Capricorns) the self-restraint his Capricorn has truly comes in handy when he needs to abstinence himself from some kind of pleasure (which-- he takes pleasure in abstinence himself).

He feels like he’s truly working hard to make his goals/achievements come true, and when he’s given the opportunity to face challenges- he does so with willingness and a spirited direction.

It’s truly passionate person that comes from a place of deeply productive energy.

A balanced mix of feminine and masculine energy, often times he tends to overdo the masculine part just a bit. But it’s forced the feminine part of himself into being hurt, he should just let himself be sometimes.

Sun (Capricorn) - Sextile - Jupiter (Scorpio)

He likes to help others, whether it’s sunbae or hoobaes. Often times he’s very generous and would willingly go out of his way to make first impressions on someone.

He especially enjoys guiding others or assisting those around him, being helpful or seen as a dependable person is important to him.

Capricorn and Scorpio here makes one seek to be reliable in both their internal and external environment, what this means in combination to Jupiter is that he wants to be seen this way.

He wants others to feel like they can depend on him because he is internally stable (Scorpio), but also wants others to see him directing and organizing his external environment as well (Capricorn). He wants to be seen as truly a calm and controlled, balanced and stable person.

Generally very well-liked by other people, and enjoys hanging out with friends. Outside of his professional setting, he’s a popular person.

Sun (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Uranus (Capricorn)

He feels himself obstructed or contained inside of traditions. Often times, it’s a confinement he can work by. He sometimes agrees with it, or sees it as ‘acceptable’-- he works hard under the social construct of what’s ‘traditionally acceptable’.

Yet there’s also part of him that questions some of the harsher aspect of it. He can’t help but admire those who possess an unconventional mind, and likes to assist them in navigating how to become accepted even to the conservatives.

Sun (Capricorn) - Conjunct -Neptune (Capricorn)

He often has big dreams, and big intuitions. Often times he has great sense for what’s going to happen, and can sympathize greatly with people.

He possesses a big heart, and often very comforting to be around. He’s easily moved or touched by others but might have a hard time expressing it.

His sentiments are often slow, not very showy but very touching. He feels touched by others often, and tries his best to make sure they know he sincerely appreciates him.

To him, supporting and loving those around him is so important. He’s genuinely happy for people he’s close to for achieving their dreams, the type of person who’s just--- genuinely happy for others without feeling any kind of jealousy for their personal achievements. He’s proud of them.

Scorpio Moon - (0′ degrees)

His Moon (depending on his birth time) might have been in Libra, but without an accurate time, he possesses a Scorpio Moon. In this post we’ll take into consideration how Libra might play into his Moon as well. And his overall personality in the process.

Social relationship is so important to him, it cannot be understated. Coming from the earlier Capricorn-Taurus and combining his Scorpio Moon, he often finds himself drawn to try and reconnect himself with others around him.

His emotions are deep and sensitive, often possessing an abundance of intensity that he finds it hard to control. Often times, with the combination of Capricorn needing external stabilization and Scorpio needing internal stabilization, everything can sort of feel like it’s melting or breaking out of control all the time.

He either deals with stress very well or he doesn’t at all, there’s not a lot of in-between here. For others, he can always put on a brave face and has an incredibly steady hands. But internally, he might find himself repressing his emotions more often than not.

He knows this, and it weighs on him more so than any other combination. Without stabilization inside or outside of himself, he can often feel like he’s constantly swinging from a pendulum, from one extreme to another.

Thats why he seeks out others, he possesses so much strength and self-restraint. A formidable giant.

But when the time comes, when he can relax and let himself be -- there’s so much emotion and suppressed thoughts inside of himself that it can come gushing out in floods of vulnerabilities.

Wants someone there who can truly care and support him, even when he’s feeling weak. He doesn’t ever want to be seen as weak but he knows there’ll be instances where he has to be, and he doesn’t ever want to be defined by his softer side constantly.

Wants to be seen for his duality, his tough exterior and his soft delicate emotions-- and accepted for it. You know, normalize it? But in a very sincere and honest way.

Often, he’s much like a gentle giant who only wishes to protect and be loved at the same time.

Possesses great analytical skills, in fact he possesses great strength and intensity in his emotional response alone it can be hard for him to even trust someone up close (because he’s constantly analyzing them and he can’t stop).

He feels drawn to those who are more emotionally in-tune or sensitive. Although he’s awkward with his affection, he does his best to receive affection from them and protect them.

Has deep romanticism in him, and alot of sentimentality. He devotes himself to someone, he does it entirely. There’s no holding back with him, he wants to experience everything with his partner.

May sometimes dream or get very whimsical for the idea of a perfect partner, romantically or platonically. He might feel bouts of loneliness on the inside if he doesn’t truly ‘have’ someone with him. He seeks people who can perhaps handle all the emotional intensity he has inside of him.

He wants to pursue others and want others to appreciate all the effort he puts into it (because it doesn’t come easy to him at all). With so much power and love to give, if he truly settles for someone who he feels secure enough with-- he wants to be obsessed with them to the point where they feel flattered by it (not in a creepy way, just in a way that he wants to learn all their tics and traits, wants to be ‘their ultimate best friend’ or someone they can be proud of, he wants his effort to be reciprocated.)

When his emotions are hurt, he can tend to have a very critical and sharp tongue. He lashes out emotionally, more so than any level-headed open minded approach. He says things he knows would hurt the other person the most, even when he actively tries to hold himself back.

His insecurities often turns to suspicion of people, and that can lead him to under-appreciating them or hurting them intentionally to test them.

Often appears emotionally ‘cool’ or mysterious to those who truly doesn’t know him, he seems level-headed but actually loses his temper pretty easily. Has a cool, restrained kind of anger to him.

Because of his Capricorn and Scorpio in his chart, there’s a struggle that feels more of like a brawl most of the time. One side has to be smacked down for the other to reign victorious. It’s like a pendulum, again.

His intellect/principle (Capricorn) and emotions (Scorpio) are often clashing. None of these signs wants to lose to each other, and they both exude a stronger sense of masculinity for him on the external front (even though they’re both feminine).

He may seem emotionally distanced, or personally detached from others-- most of it’s due to his own internal problems.

At this point, it wouldn’t even be called inner tension. Instead of just the normal push and pull, tug of war or tightening of the corset. Jaebum’s internal self/emotions often either feels like a complete meltdown or a god walking through the burning flames of hell going ‘this is fine’.

Whichever sides wins at the moment, the other side will get up again and fight continues. This might also be because it’s at a 0′degree (Scorpio Moon) so he has to constantly relearn and grow from the experience over and over again.

Other than that, he’s actually a really soft and sensitive person when he lets himself be. He’s naturally perceptive to others, and can handle all kind of emotional stress/duress from others. His depth of emotional intensity allows him to handle others well, yet at the same time it always feels like he’s caught off guard by his own emotions/internal development.

In tune with his own emotions, but whether or not he’ll actually express it is another matter entirely.

Considering how he’s both dramatic and intensely critical he is at the same time, it can be his biggest downfall (doesn’t know how to accept vulnerabilities within himself without feeling like he’s publicly embarrassed himself. Even between private manners.)

Aspects

Moon (Scorpio) -Trine- Saturn (Aquarius)

He sometimes has (what he considers ‘insane’) thoughts of just letting it all go. Not in terms of duties or responsibilities, but his idea of ‘relaxing’ or ‘letting lose’ is more about indulgent in being less traditional.

He thinks it’s absolutely insane to just-- idealize things or let himself go with hypothetical thoughts sometimes. When dreamier placements like Pisces or Taurus brings up the idea of an idealized world, he likes to fuel into this imagination. (gosh you can tell how rigid he is sometimes even with all the sentimentality he has)

His Scorpio Moon makes him find joy in indulging them, creating a structure and some resemblance of reality for them, while his Aquarius Saturn makes him come up with ideas for an generation that lives in such world.

It’s alot like-- world creating/building? (such a Capricorn/Aquarius thing) Because he finds it so hard to lose control, the most optimistic he can let his emotions go is to this extent. Idealizing ideas, and to a certain extent, entertaining semi-believable thoughts.

Despite possessing alot of intuition and want inside of him (Sun-conjunct-Neptune/Uranus) he doesn’t like his feelings being out of control.

In fact he tends to repress them more and more in his daily life. He feels like if he loses control, it’ll break down all his credits, his reputation, his respectability. It’s usually not the case, but he’s paranoid about it. Over-dramatic, but also intensely critical.

Capricorn Mercury - 2nd Decan (ruled by Venus/Taurus)

Again, he thinks a lot about others around him. But in this sense, he’s consciously aware of it.

He works best when there’s people around him, people supporting him. He wants love and he wants possession over those love. He wants it in tangible matter, fan letters, fan gifts and small projects of dedication (birthday projects/donations), he keeps them close and reminds himself everyday that he is loved.

In fact, he’s so fucking hard on himself naturally from his Capricorn placements and Scorpio moon that he truly sees his relationship as something that’s saved him. It’s his reason to move, the reason to get up every morning. He truly feels like it owes it to everyone else, who made him who he is today-- to continue fighting for them.

He’s merely a vessel in the overall scale of things, his disciplined nature and all his efforts are just the middle-man for realizing the fan’s ideal into the world. He gives-- so much, back to the world. Words really cannot understate how much he cares about others. To the point where he’s humbly careless about himself.

Sometimes he’s riddled with so much self-decrepitating thoughts, he sees himself only for his worst self. And constantly blames himself. He everyone else who loves and supports him on a pedestal instead.

Whenever he feels down, he probably pulls out letters just to read them over and over again. So he can feel less lonely, less fucked up than how he is.

Although I doubt he does this often anymore, when he faces hardship this probably happens alot to fuel him to work even harder. To remind himself that, in that point in time, someone truly appreciates what he does. And it does matter. It does impact someone other than him and that-- is enough to keep him moving forward.

His mind reads impressions off of people, Capricorns are so observative and astute when it comes to taking care of the people around them.

The reason they feel like they’re not doing enough is because there’s dissatisfaction from the world around them, and they soak in these emotions all day every day. They’re almost like-- Pisces in a way. But in a way that they take it as it is and work with it.

So just, when there’s a moment in time; that’s captured. Where someone is just-- so genuinely happy he’s here; doing things, expressing their sincerest whole hearted support for him, the impression is so much more important for him.

It can almost be a life changing experience the first time he receives that kind of validation. It’s truly amazing, when they stop in a single moment to just breath and look around them and realize that wow, they’ve changed someone’s life.

That minuscule impression, that moment in time where they might’ve influenced someone for the better. That means the world to them.

He’s not the type to dwell, but I wanted to touch on the vulnerable moment in a Capricorn’s shield.

There’s so much emphasis earlier on his internal conflict, this Capricorn Mercury truly is the main mastermind in how his Sun and the rest of his chart becomes so Capricorn heavy. It controls everything in his life, makes things 1000x harder for him.

But at the same time, it’s how he’s lived and how he feels pleasure from living his life. It’s how he’s going to achieve success-- his way, and sometimes that path isn’t going to be easy (he doesn’t want it any other way anyways).

Aspects

Mercury (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Venus (Capricorn)

He strives to bring others together, often time by mediating between people. He knows when a situation is going to go wary and what to do to stop it.

He uses himself as a shield to protect others, his instinct is to keep a cool, calm level-headedness at all times.

He’s perceptive, and would most likely-- after the conflict is avoided, look back at the person he’s protecting and give a subtle ‘you ok?’

He’s so quick on picking up on cues and scrutinizing others, he’s naturally guarded and protecting others is something he feels-- he can show his dedication to them, shielding them from harm. It’s how he shows he cares and that he loves someone.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, allows his actions to speak louder than words.

At the same time, he leaves it at that. He takes your word just as it is, if you say you’re ok. It’s not because he’s detached, it’s just that he trusts you. If you truly need someone to talk or make sure you’re ok, he trusts that you’ll come to him and be honest about it.

Mercury (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Mars (Capricorn)

His mind and his actions are aligned, he often possesses great power to accomplish his goals. In a way, his Scorpio Moon would benefit from this too.

Although it’s not directly correlated, he feels like his internal struggle, his emotional ones can be pushed forward through his actions. In combination to his Capricorn it makes him formidable. He’s an unmovable shield for his teammate, and a great power to push them up from.

If anyone ever needs his reassurance, that he won’t ever let any of their fucks up -- no matter how bad of a fuck up they might have made -- make them feel like he values them any less. He won’t drop them, he’s a steady presence that’ll stand by them and support them. Even if he has to discipline them in a gentle manner (Taurus Decan).

He cares for others and it shows. He’ll speak up about it, although he’ll feel more comfortable showing that he cares than actually speaking about it-- especially in terms of feelings.

He’ll speak about it in a way that’s very direct, straight-forward. But it might seem kind of detached, or more like-- someone older/more experienced looking after someone younger.

Mercury (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Uranus (Capricorn)

He’s sociable, yet at the same time ingenious. He often tries to break free from the mold, and feels inspired by others around him.

He enjoys company from people who are also hoping to change the world in some way. He likes the thrill it gives him, a little rebellious side to his nature.

He feels engaged intellectually, feels like it brings a purpose to his nature.

He often tries to contribute his strengths, whether or not that means his actual strength (active/physicality) or just his level-headedness. He tries to be anything that they might need, and he knows he can do .

Mercury (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Neptune (Capricorn)

He finds it easy to be creative, he often takes action/initiation over his own work and his artistry.

He finds it thrilling to his personal sense of self (Sun) that he gets to express himself this way, he has a natural inclinations for the arts.

Capricorn Venus - 2nd Decan (ruled by Venus/Taurus)

You would think he’s soft and gushy, and he is! But he’s so much more than that.

The way he shows his love, is kind of different but really in line with who he constructed himself to be on the surface.

I’ve put so much emphasis on him being ‘seen’ a certain way throughout the post, and also a lot on ‘possessing’ a certain trait and ‘obsession’ (see: tendency to blame himself) It’s all because Capricorn, Scorpio and Taurus all talks about similar things and that all points to scrambling to gain some sort of ‘Control’.

‘Control’ for him comes in form of constructing himself, constructing a shield in order to stop ‘obsessing’ over his faults and hyper-fixating his ‘habits’ (self-destruction, needing validation, feeling lonely/isolated). He keeps an inventory on his pros and cons (his traits) in terms of ‘possessing’ certain things to be proud of (’imagine’ regulation or ‘shield’ maintenance).

His pride/ego/sense of self (Sun) and how he views or feel about himself (Moon and Mercury respectably) is all tied to this-- obsessive habit he has of constantly accounting his possession in order to feel some kind of self-worth within himself.

He’s not vain at all. He’s just trying to find something to be proud of and to call his own. Something he can stand by indefinitely.

It’s a cautionary warning for those who has alot of Capricorn in them, but also an abundance of the sister signs -- Scorpio and Taurus. The way he goes about things can become an overabundance on it, all under the tonality of Capricorn which makes it all the more harder.

If you think about it, he has an emphasis of Saturn over everything in his chart. And then you have Mars and Pluto, and Venus working at the same time. There’s bound to be some clash within himself, but through it-- alot of internal change and turmoil.

That’s four opposing forces trying to fit in together. Saturn and Pluto might have similarities, but you can also see it as the planet of trying to find long term stability and hardship, meeting the planet of turmoil, change and transformation. And Venus and Mars finding the find some sort of balance between each other, but with Saturn and Pluto taking precedent they end up in a wrestling match most of the time.

So just-- keep that in mind when thinking about all this. I figured that, I should explain it at some point. And since I did talk about the softer light of Capricorn Mercury earlier I felt I needed to expand more on this as well.

Now, onto the part about his Capricorn Venus:

He’s kind of a slow and steady person, but once he decides on something he absolutely devotes to it. The initial state of making a decision isn’t really the biggest factor for him, he can make a decision pretty easily.

Capricorn Venus tends to have criteria they’ve already set for what it is they’re evaluating, if everything ‘feels’ right and is ticked off (simple things: like integrity, respectability, dedication) -- the part they’re truly dedicated to is the showing that they care part-- it comes afterwards.

He puts in so much effort into seeing his dreams created, his dreams come to life. He wants to see his artistry become something that withstand time.

The decision wasn’t hard, the hardest part was the path. That’s truly what it’s like to really understand a Capricorn Venus.

Not really one to put it out there, but there’s a sense within them that goes ‘alright, let’s do it’ and they shift gears towards pursuing those goals.

Hard work isn’t something they cower from, instead they encourage it. They want to feel like they’ve achieved something from it, like they’re truly worthy of the reward at the end of their victory (success/reputation/praise)

It’s like-- winning a medal isn’t really worth it if you’re naturally gifted for it y know? Winning a medal is only worth it if they put in work, if they felt that grind, if they’ve shared that experience with those around them and truly-- be adored for it at the end.

It’s the support, the camaraderie that comes with it that truly matters. To Capricorn Venus, it really is the journey that matters most.

They’re often not very vocal about their wants or needs, but they’re the type to be pretty direct once prompted. Like, they wouldn’t start a conversation about it but they would reply pretty honestly.

If the subject something about work/objectively they’re trying to gain something from it, they’ll often just-- stare really hard until the other person become self-aware and asks them themselves.

They know they’re not good at conversation, which is why they rely on others to instigate it for them. Contrary to like-- being a cardinal sign, he does things more through actions than words.

Honestly though let the boy sing! He has such great potential for it and he truly would’ve liked to be a great vocal at some point (acknowledged for it) y know?

With Taurus influencing his love for artistry he wants to become an accomplished singer by like-- some point in his career.

He’s actually quite studious and takes training very seriously, like he’s good at it. He’s good at theory and practice, and he actually gets things pretty fast.

In fact he can be so perceptive of like-- subtle cues or hint that he just lends a hand to others (people he cares about) as well. He’s observative, and then he kind of just-- explains it to those around him.

A bit of an individual study kind of person, he needs time to grow into something or learn something. The way he does it best is by himself, through practice.

Relies alot on muscle memory but again-- he’s cautious about it. Doesn’t tend to put all his cards into one goal and but spread them out instead, this way he has more than one option to fall back on (very thorough).

Makes him multi-talented in a lot of different things, and a stable base to go from. He can honestly go into so many different field just by this alone.

Aspects

Venus (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Mars (Capricorn)

Puts his effort into what he loves. To him, there has to be passion in what he does.

Often he knows he possesses a strength of will and need for activity, the goal he sets for himself in order to pursue/externalize those energy is important.

Once he decides he wants to be in the entertainment industry, there was really no stopping him.

Aim to reach a certain level of stability in his achievement, wants to be acknowledged and viewed positively by the public. He wants to be seen as someone who’s maybe a bit mysterious, but good-hearted and dependable. Someone who’s in it for the long-run and admirable for others to look up to.

Maybe in the future, he wants to be one of those people the younger generation would say they want to be like him. It’s one of the greatest goal.

Venus (Capricorn) - Sextile - Jupiter (Scorpio)

Posseses alot of charm and strength, people are attracted to the sensitive yet powerful side of him.

He’s abit reserved and humbled by it, but you can see he appreciates it nonetheless.

His softer side comes out when he’s flustered? Or slightly embarrassed. He’s more of a receiver than an instigator but is willing to meet others half-way most of the time.

Would like his relationships to be fair, with the public, with himself and with his personal relationships too.

To him, the external public (general public) may be his personal relationship. While his personal relationships are treated like they’re external public.

Meaning he’s much more open about himself in the public than he is with his immediate interpersonal relationships (in terms of intimacy).

Venus (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Uranus (Capricorn)

Needs his space and independency in his relationships. Doesn’t do well with someone who’s clingy or doesn’t let him have his space.

He doesn’t like-- people nosing into his business or nagging him on what to do. In fact he takes it quite seriously. Would be hurt by it because it breaches a sense of trust they have.

He trusts the other to have their independence and autonomy from him, he respects and gives space to other people. So he naturally wants to be treated the same way.

If he feels like he’s being suffocated if he has to be-- reporting what he does all the time, he’ll get really uncomfortable about it.

Venus (Capricorn) - Conjunct- Neptune (Capricorn)

Has a true love for the arts, really its the only way he feels like he can truly express himself properly without being judged for how awkward he is sometimes.

There’s a purpose here for him, can sometimes be so focused on the actuality of the career that he needs to just step away and switch gears into the creative process of things.

These are usually slower to start up, but once he’s in the zone-- he carries on with it and then he has to switch gears again to deal with the other side of his career (responding to the public versus his private creative process).

Capricorn Mars - 2nd Decan (ruled by Venus/Taurus)

He’s amazing at keeping his temper in control. In fact he absolutely hates losing control over himself. So much that expressing anger can lead to even more self-decrepitation.

The only moments he actually loses control and gets angry is when it’s prompted emotionally, as in an instantaneous reaction. (from his Moon’s response).

He feels like he’s been wronged in the most serious manner (as in, objectively, it’s not something petty. It’s a huge breach of trust, sensitivity or moral code), or someone close to him is being mistakenly taken advantage of unfairly.

Highly protective of the people around him and insanely perceptive to other people’s intentions-- he can see it coming and the way he protects others can sometimes get-- out of hand.

Scorpio-like anger from his moon; cold, chilling, cutting and powerful. Self-doubt and years of decrepitation externalized outward into actual anger (self-manipulation turned outwardly is very powerful).

Combined with Taurus here it makes him incredibly scary. It’s persistent rage. It’s shouting and yelling, it’s in your face and not backing down type of anger. It’s not listening to anyone else-- because that was the end of the line for them.

You can imagine that these sister signs are scary for a reason. Despite all the magnetism and romanticism about them, don’t ever cross them.

Given, it takes alot to get him to that point if he ever gets to it at all (considering his Capricorn’s stronghold). But if it ever happens, beware.

In fact there’s not a lot to stop him from being angry and staying angry. He’s one to hold grudges for sure, but also the kind of anger that doesn’t go away even when the other person apologizes or begs. There has to be a vindictive justice from karma and the entire downfall of the other person’s world for him to be truly satisfied.

See, as much as he loves people so deeply and is incredibly loyal to them-- when he’s absolutely hates someone he’s especially thorough as well. (powerful devotion-- it takes ALOT to get him angry.)

If it’s a person he-- cares and trust, and they’re wronged him. He usually just takes a deep breath and sit them down to talk. He’s more of the objective disciplining type. Or rather he holds himself back and then when he knows he’s calm and controlled-- he addresses the problem in a very private manner.

The type to be more about-- collaborating and understanding each other rather than ‘you’re wrong and this is why I’m right.’ -- he knows full well he has Problems of his own so he’s always going to come from a place where he’s not going to be unsympathetic, y know?

Like he’d like the same sort of mercy/lee-way given back to him. So the anger described earlier, it’s if he’s SURE it’s absolutely unacceptable, that it’s personally offensive to him-- with or without his own faults.

He truly doesn’t think he’s perfect and he’s always willing to work through it-- and be as honest about it as well when it comes to-- working through individual problems with others. (this is the stiffest way to describe it, but it would absolutely be the way he would describe the process himself as well.)

See that the self-decrepatition is so ingrained inside of himself that sometimes, people do take advantage of him for it. Subconsciously or intentionally, make sure he’s not around emotionally volatile or manipulative people would help a lot.

People who are quick to blame him for things, gaslight or becoming extremely passive aggressive towards him are going to hurt him the most. There’s no sincerity there. And Jaebum is genuine through and. through. It’s in his core. Even when he absolutely can’t see it within himself, and scrambles to find his worth in something else (’tangible’ traits) he’s absolutely blind to his own strengths and how honest he is sometimes.

Being especially aware of how some people deal with their own anger in a defensive and ‘messy’ way-- and not letting that or their relationship define him (because god forbid he’ll think it’s his responsibility to reassure or teach them how) can really help him.

Defining a sense of self that’s away from others, and letting himself grow and prosper from that really would help him develop his Capricorn better.

The problem here might be taking on too much responsibilities when it comes to other people that he blames it on himself. Again, he has to really regulate a balance between the two.

Aspects

Mars (Capricorn) - Sextile - Jupiter (Scorpio)

Comes across as a very sincere person, often direct and sensitive. At the same time it’s easy to see when he’s trying to put up a ‘facade’ and can lead to people assuming he’s ‘two-faced’ or ‘hard to get to know’ because of this defensive mechanism.

He tends to take it personally as well, and tries to bring down his own walls even though it’s there essentially to protect him and it’s good for him because it defends him from people who tries to take advantage of him.

He trusts others so much, remember the part where he’s more ‘free’ to be himself to the public than his actual interpersonal relationship? Might’ve stemmed from this.

He values people’s opinions that sometimes, he’s too readily trusting of others even when it’s not good for him. Can be kind of like a kid in a way, naive and innocent to a certain extent (and will retain this sense to him even when he ages, a purity to his aura) -- needs someone to truly help guide him with his best intentions at heart.

Someone who is people smart and with the know-how, wont be lured to listen to others easily and is self-assured. That someone should also be a person he can trust, and can take care of him even in his innocent side.

That someone should want him to be free, and has a strong sense of independence and a visionary. Needs to be accepting of his emotional depth and sensitive side as well.

If you’re looking for a match (romantically or otherwise) someone with a Sagittarius, Scorpio Mercury but with a Capricorn somewhere (Venus/Mars) and Libra somewhere. Capricorn/Aquarius would also help because he has too much Capricorn not to look for it in others (Saturn aspect or decan) or possibly a strong Taurus person (developed). Platonically (or otherwise), a Virgo would get along great because they can share some of the burden together and it’s more of a balanced dynamic where he doesn’t have to suffer alone (they understand each other’s suffering/Virgo Moon).

Mars (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Uranus (Capricorn)

He likes working in the public, for the public. Maybe a specific audience but he knows his appeal. He tends to appear in a very traditional way -- as in, his charm is more of the ‘traditionally handsome’ kind and he knows he can get some support from people who likes that.

Does things like posturing and plays up his masculine side for those people, it’s possibly just for them not really for himself (since it’ll be detrimental to himself)

He feels good when he’s playing the part because he feels like he receives love and adoration that way.

The same kind of feel it is when you see someone playing sports and thinks they’re cool? He’s the person you’re admiring and he knows it. He’s having fun, and at the same time he has fans. You know? It’s really nothing bad, it’s a healthy kind of ego thing. Self-confidence!

Mars (Capricorn) - Conjunct - Neptune (Capricorn)

He likes people who are outside the box, dreamier or can tap into their creativity easier.

Often he feels stimulated by other people’s wisdom and experience, he’s humbled by it. Wants to learn from it.

It feels a lot like-- innocence in a way.

Like being on a boat trip in the middle of the ocean, blankets all around you and looking up at the starry night sky. Someone talking to you about their experience, and the world is infinite. You’re just a tiny speck of matter in the whole magnitude of everything, and he goes ‘woah’ and feels humbled by that.

Other Aspects

Saturn (Aquarius) - Square - Pluto (Scorpio)

Can make him kind of narrow minded, talks over other people. Doesn’t like changes.

He can tend to see the worst in others if he makes his mind up that they’re not really people he should trust.

Feels like his ego/mind is above others or that he knows best (Sun-Conjunct-Mercury), can be dictatorial in the worst way when he’s pressured. He just has to watch out for that.

Asteroids

Libra Juno

Looks for a relationship that’s of equal partnership, a life long partner.

Ties in pretty well with his Capricorn who needs established ties. Isn’t one to rush in easily but definitely one to commit and stays in it for a long time.

Would need a partner who would try as hard as he does in keeping the relationship afloat, makes sure he’s not taken advantage of and both of them working equally hard at achieving their own goals.

He tends to give so much into the relationship and into others that he can have a hard time taking care of himself. He doesn’t want to feel like -- losing control or being coddled. He just wants someone who can meet him at a balance, and help him keep that balance.

Makes him feel like he’s ok-- everything about him isn’t so topsy-turvry all the time. Someone who is his constant and someone who can regulate him. Not afraid to call him out but in a manner that’s non-intrusive.

Someone who doesn’t need to spend any effort or thinks its hard work to help him like that-- like it comes naturally to them.

Also a romantic, he likes romanticism so much.

He’s very sentimental and soft remember? So it’s only fair he gets to actually externalize all these hidden desire for romance onto a relationship.

He doesn’t want to overdo it, so someone who can meet him half way or lead him somewhat would help (reign him back).

Has alot of deep-rooted affection and infinite love, so he needs someone who can be in it for the long run and not like-- give up on him as soon as the emotional part runs dry for them

Committed is so important. Like the actual decision making to stay committed is important and not just-- the passionate emotional roller coaster that might bring them together for a while.

Virgo Chiron (R)

Not being too hard on himself is something he has to learn.

Wants to serve the world yet at the same time his biggest hurt is that the world spits back in his face.

Wants to be publicly accepted, possibly for his work to be acknowledged and seen as a thorough, detail-oriented hard worker.

Wants to be respected and honorable person (he is-- but in a different way) wants to be seen for all the hard work but also his studious side.

Aries Lilith

Likes action, wants to be more action-oriented in his life.

So people who are bravely themselves, reactive, dynamic and unapologetically outspoken appeals to him.

People who are direct but not crass, head strong and instigative really inspires him.

He wants to have that as a trait for himself as well. Wants to learn from others who has that factor.

Someone with a good balance of Venus-Mars like him.

Possibly someone he doesn’t have to expend himself to help too much/too often, who’s pretty balanced and has their life developed so he doesn’t have to nag is good for him.

Conclusion:

I think the main focus here that’s dictating his life might be the Sun-Conjunct-Mercury, both being in Capricorn and working strongly in his life it has domain and control over things that he does.

It keeps his Scorpio Moon in check, at the same time Jaebum has so much Venus influencing his chart that he truly deserves to be loved and appreciated for everything he does.

He has a great balance, due to his Sun and Mercury conjunction to his Mars. So between Venus and Mars, he possesses both the spirit and the sensitivity to be great at both.

The struggle for him here is embracing his Venus-influence somehow, his Scorpio might act temperamental and push him towards his Mars, but his Capricorn truly wants to be more Venus-aligned.

It’s a confusing and interesting mix. Because unlike any other readings I’ve done it really does feel like he’s constantly trying to wrestle each side of himself down into submission in order to actually ‘be’ anything (his authentic self).

Every day is a fight and it’s truly-- something amazing to witness someone continuously doing this and coming out on top without ever stopping or complaining or even talking about it. He just-- walks along the step like everyone else with this large burden on his soul that he just deals with naturally?

He never takes credit for his strength or how incredible he is as a person because that’s just how he is. He never asks anyone to sympathize or understand him completely. But he truly deserves people around him who can see this and help him anyways, because he doesn’t deserve to be alone (platonically or otherwise) -- ever.

I have never met someone with such strong Capricorn in their chart, along with this much conflict from their Scorpio and Taurus. It’s honestly kind of amazing?

A homebody, truly loves art and simple things in life. Wants peace and harmony, just wants to live in nature and be surrounded by animals.

An actual Softie Confirmed.

Such a sweet, genuine and sincere person who? just wants to have fun, goof off and do well in life.

Wants to be appreciated and love.

💕That’s it for JB! Gosh this took a turn i didn’t expect. It’s been so good to just look at his chart, I actually cried writing a bit of this because it just hits me so hard. I hope this gives you a little bit of insight/thoughts on his character.

I feel like this sort of feels more like a scenario than an actual analysis mostly because of the way I wrote it. But I actually feel satisfied with that surprisingly. Usually with astrology, you tend to leave a lee-way for another possibility (like ‘possibly’ or ‘perhaps’ or ‘maybe’) but with this reading-- I just went for it.

Again, we don’t know them personally, so maybe don’t take this so seriously. I hope it helps you feel some type of way for him though!

PS. If you want to find your own decan, I answered an ask about it here. 💕

288 notes · View notes