#my cousin's comment was in response to me having left a lot of my books behind in canada and being devastated at it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

postalenha · 3 years

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on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

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lostininterest · 4 years

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS #638227

Moon in a more "hard" transit with Neptune (like a square) makes you want to stop everything your doing and complain like a 2 years old. Very unproductive.

Mercury in the 8th house will want to sit down and fix relationship problems with you, talk things out. The quickest possible, they don't like to wait, they want to fix it RIGHT NOW.

Virgo and Aries in a chart will work their ass off, but will give themselves a break if it's to much. Out of self-respect.

IDK if that's just for me but when I have a lot of mars transit my creativity spikes. so much. I cannot stop drawing.

Mars in the 8th has the biggest sex drive. If there’s some gemini in the mix, they love the ~explore~.

Where your mars is is where you find your energy. Ex: mars in 11th find their energy when they are around friends

Uranus in the 9th house like to do stuff they usually wouldn't do when they are travelling.

Having a lot of personal planet in the 5th or 11th house makes you very care free. Not much overthinking, you guys look like super heroes to me.

If you accuse a Gemini moon of something, they will argue with you until you revalue your accusation. Just like aries tho, they are often wrong.

I strongly suggest you look at your PHOLUS placement as it deals with all the life changing ah-ah moment you'll have.

Cancer and Leo placement are dramatic, but so gifted in any types of art you could imagine. One of my cousins is 11 and he thought himself piano in like a month and now he plays a bunch of songs WITH HIS EYES CLOSED.

Mercury Virgo have a stiff way of talking when they're mad, fast and kind of robotic. They also don’t talk unless they have something pertinent to say. I live with 3 virgo mercury and if I don’t talk at the dinner table it’s mostly silent. Their favourite subject is: work problems and how to fix them.

Mercury in cancer are very inclusive of everyone, don't like when someone is left out. They’ll come get you and make sure you are okay if you seem down, make yourself small or straight up leave.

Taurus midheaven dislikes changing career too often, they'd rather focus their energy in one place. Libra midheaven are usually very well-liked in their work environment. Scorpio Midheaven are very respected in find themselves in positions of power (they may even be admired a lot).

Libra rising/cancer midheaven makes excellent boss and are often put in charge. Especially in fields that have to do with human interactions.

North node in cancer come to accept feelings as they come and not keep everything bottled up inside because anyway it doesn’t matter lololol(south node in Capricorn). I’m reading the book Astrology for the soul and I would recommend it to anyone. I read it outloud and it feels like I’m talking to my past lives.

*When there's a theme in your chart that repeats itself, THATS SO IMPORTANT, you should pay lots of attention to that said theme.*

Mercury opposite uranus can make someone pretty aloof and in their own head so they tend to miss out stuff. My sister is always like “Nobody told me” when we told her 5382 times and she just wasn’t paying attention.

Moon in the 3rd likes to get reactions out of people. They also tend to change their habits regularly. Learning and studying may calm them down. They have a hard time seeing to limit between too little and too much.

Libra parents can be very hard on their children as to what they look like to people outside their family.

Jupiter in the 9th house just know good things a are coming. They don’t worry excessively about the future because they know that eventually things will fall into place.

Saturn in the 9th house are so skeptical. They don’t like the idea of having the wrong beliefs. Especially if it’s not scientifically proven.

You never fully know/understand 12th house people, they are not readable at all. I’ve tried, but I always feel like there’s more.

North node in taurus come on earth during this reincarnation to learn to let go of their power, to be more passive and less obsessive.

Capricorn likes when a task is done, they don't care how it's done (like Virgo's do). So if you are insecure and you work for someone with capricorn placement do not worry too much, you just need to get the job done, they literally don’t mind your emotional termoils and performance anxiety.

Saturn placement is a great place to look at if you want to see what kind of job you'd be good at, since saturn is where you take on responsibilities. ex: saturn 3h=communication

Cancer moons soooo selfless to their people. I LOVE them so much.

Pisces moon are incredibly understanding and non-judgemental and I admire them for that.

Geminis are adaptable but they still very much like when things go the way they planned. They tend to worry otherwise, that mercurian energy. I guess it depends on the level of importance they put on a certain event.

This was so long, I had to shorten it. These are very basic observations, but they still have some worth so here I am sharing them. Hope you like this and please leave a comment to tell me what you think. I’m✨insecure✨

#astrology observations #astrology #aries #taurus #midheaven #north node #pisces moon #cancer #9th house #zodiac #mercury in the 8th house #capricorn #12th house #libra #gemini #astrology transits #moon in the 3rd

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titan-fodder · 3 years

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Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao.

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings.

The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow.

The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway.

"Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!"

A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough.

"Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy."

"My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

"'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice.

Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you."

You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it.

"Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

"Didn't even notice," he reassures you.

Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen.

Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

"Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later.

"You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

"Uh, yeah. I could eat."

Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything.

"Sandwiches okay?"

Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich.

You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask.

He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days.

Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow.

After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer.

"It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free."

Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better.

You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie.

He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow.

"I can pick something else," he tells you quietly.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften.

"'S'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be.

He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies.

"You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

"You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress.

Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep.

That's good. You could use a nap.

He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours.

But first.

As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf.

It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before.

The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses.

Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward.

They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother.

Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book.

Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole?

Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible.

It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on.

Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left.

The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album.

He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

"Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album."

Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What's there to tell?"

Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth.

"It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books.

"Is it, though? Is it really?"

"I..."

Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language.

Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you.

It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

At least it makes sense now.

"I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it.

You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch.

Then, you flop back down on your pillows.

"So. Any questions, Zacharias?"

He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

"Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease.

"Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up.

"Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous.

"He left."

"Yeah."

And then he gets the full story.

Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

"Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom.

"He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick."

He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since.

"I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

"Were you ever close with him?"

You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him.

He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk.

"Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice.

Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him.

"I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies.

"Have you seen him since?"

You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction.

You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

"Anyway," he mimics.

"I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

"Is this why?"

"Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

"Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know.

Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months.

"So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

"For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

"Mm. I guess."

The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better.

Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster.

Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark.

When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest.

It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate.

You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth.

He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut.

Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer.

He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth.

Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you.

After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other.

He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now.

If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back.

He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself:

I love you. I love you, I love you.

You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day.

You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear.

Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it.

And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening.

The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail.

Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence.

Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can.

Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

“You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

“Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

“Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip.

“Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you.

“I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way.

You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done.

Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it.

Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock.

He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying.

Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger.

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books.

It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice.

Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town.

It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway.

Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder.

The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!"

Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles.

"It's fine. You can calm down."

You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused.

The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him.

"You're Zeke Jaeger."

He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players.

You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face.

"Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself.

"Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

Your stomach flips at the mention of him.

"We're not dating."

Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

"No. Just friends."

He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain.

"Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try.

He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

"I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

"Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

"I'll walk with you," he states more than offers.

Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.

But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does.

Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip.

Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

“You listening, sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

“No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

“That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

“It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor.

Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

“Yeah, okay.”

He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said.

What a fucking joke.

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside.

“You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

“Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

“Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

“Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.”

He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day.

And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece.

If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

What is happening to you?

“So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car.

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

“Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

“I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes.

“Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

“Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

“I—”

“It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him.

But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that.

“What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

“Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

“Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.”

God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

“Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

“Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem.

“I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

“For some reason I don’t believe that.”

You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his.

He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth.

You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more.

And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

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kurowrites · 4 years

Note

"you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks im married with a baby" for wangxian :3

I doubt this was the thing you expected, but ... [smashes keyboard]

---

It had been a coincidence, really, nothing that he’d planned. He’d just been on his way out of the door to get his groceries done when he came across one of his neighbours in the entrance hall; the really handsome one with the cute little toddler that always smiled at him. The one where the mother of the child had probably left the picture, because he’d never actually seen her.

Quietly, he wondered what woman would leave a man that was so obviously caring well for his child, and a toddler so friendly and cute, but then, that was really none of his business.

In any case, when he ran into them in the entrance hall of the apartment building, the toddler was having a big temper tantrum (that was a first), and his father, despite his best efforts at calming the child, was completely unsuccessful in stopping the wailing. His usually neutral face was, for once, wrinkled in concern and apparent helplessness.

Wei Ying knew the feeling too well, from similar situations with his own family. Recently, it had been happening particularly often because of Jin Ling, his beloved nephew who had taken an unfortunate page from the book of his father and had started an early ‘nonono, I don’t want to’ phase.

So Wei Ying automatically did what he always did with Jin Ling: he made a stupid face at the toddler, and when the toddler looked at Wei Ying in momentary confusion, Wei Ying grabbed him, lifted him up, and wheeled him around. The kid let out a sound halfway between annoyance and enjoyment. Wei Ying took the chance he got, and folded over with the biggest grin on his face, tilting the child upside down with him. Then he flipped back up, and did it again. By the third time, the child was laughing.

“Again, again!”

Wei Ying did it again, and then tried to set the child down, but it was too late. Quick as anything, two hands grabbed him with surprising strength, and he now had a spider monkey on his hands. The child clung to him, eagerly asking for more parentally inadvisable acrobatics.

Wei Ying looked at the father apologetically, who had witnessed the whole event with the earlier frown still on his face, shrugging a little as he held the little monkey in his arms.

“Sorry for barging in like that,” he said. “It’s just something I picked up from handling my nephew. It works with him every time, so I started doing it automatically. You’re probably busy, I should let you go.”

He tried to hand the boy back to his father, but there was no budging. The child clung to him like a leech, whining at Wei Ying to play with him.

“I am sorry,” the father said, clearly unsure how to handle the situation and his uncooperating child. “He is usually not that difficult. Today is…”

He trailed off.

Wei Ying smiled encouragingly. “Hey, parenting is hard. Tell me, where were you going? I was planning to go to the supermarket near the park, and if you’re heading in the same direction, we can walk together until he’s calmed down a little.”

Wei Ying was almost sure there was something akin to relief in the father’s face.

“I was also heading out for groceries,” the father replied. “If it is not too much to ask…”

“Hey, no biggie,” Wei Ying smiled. “If you carry my groceries, all is well.”

He winked at the boy in his arms.

“Always get others to carry your things.”

“Gege is carrying ME!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, and Wei Ying laughed.

“I see, I see, you are a smart one!”

Wei Ying winked at the father, and after assuring him that he was perfectly fine carrying a toddler around, they walked to the grocery store together.

On the way, Wei Yin learned that the names of father and son were Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan, respectively. They hadn’t been living in the apartment building for very long (Wei Ying had suspected as much), and had recently relocated because Lan Zhan had changed jobs.

Wei Ying felt the urge to ask about the child’s mother, but managed to suppress his curiosity.

It was none of his business, he told himself sternly. He had no place nosing around in a stranger’s private affairs, even when the man in question was particularly handsome, and the toddler particularly cute.

---

Shopping turned out to be way more fun than it usually was. Lan Yuan was still stuck to Wei Ying, unwilling to give up the prime real estate in Wei Ying’s arms, so Wei Ying carried him through the supermarket like a little king, and together, they commanded Lan Zhan what he needed to buy.

Lan Zhan was a strict man that was extremely picky about the foods that he put onto the plate of his child, Wei Ying learned quickly. But he was also a father that very clearly loved by his son, and everything Lan Yuan said was considered seriously, even when it was eventually turned down. Wei Ying almost felt bad to ask Lan Zhan to help him with his groceries, since his eating habits were… nowhere near Lan Zhan’s, that was for sure.

Lan Zhan himself frowned a little when he saw all the stuff that Wei Ying was planning to buy, and though he was evidently trying to restrain himself from commenting, he eventually cracked.

“You do not cook for yourself?” he asked, as Wei Ying snatched another box of frozen food out of the freezer one-handed, balancing Lan Yuan on his hip.

“Not really,” Wei Ying replied lightly. “I’m a horrible cook. My sister banned me from her kitchen.”

“Fresh vegetables are important,” Lan Zhan said, clearly not approving of his dietary choices.

“I know! I have them when I visit my sister. She makes the best food.”

He smiled at Lan Yuan.

“Always eat your veggies, mister, if you want to grow as tall as your dad.”

“I’m gonna be taller!”

It was spoken with so much enthusiasm and conviction that Wei Ying had to laugh.

“You have a lot of work to do and many veggies to eat, then!”

“What about Gege?” Lan Yuan asked. “You also need to eat veggies and grow taller.”

“I’m not going to get any taller now, I’ve reached my maximum height already,” Wei Ying replied. “Not everyone gets to be as tall as your dad.”

That opened an entire new can of worms, because now Lan Yuan wanted to know why Wei Ying wasn’t as tall as his father, and why people were tall or small or fat or thin, and Wei Ying found himself inundated with questions he might have been able to answer more easily if he had been able to pull out his mobile phone and search for some scientifically accurate answers.

But Lan Yuan seemed to enjoy the explanations that Wei Ying could give, so honestly, all was well. He’d apparently completely forgotten the reason why he’d had a meltdown in the entrance hall of their apartment block, and seemed to enjoy being babied by someone other than his father, for once.

“A-Yuan is such a good child,” Wei Ying sighed as they left the supermarket (Lan Zhan carrying Wei Ying’s groceries as promised). “If I ever have children, I also want to have a child like A-Yuan.”

Lan Yuan hugged Wei Ying with a smile, and Wei Ying had to squish the little boy, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of intense affection. He was just too precious. Dammit, he didn’t even have a partner, he couldn’t go around getting baby fever.

“Wei Ying should adopt me!” Lan Yuan exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Like Baba!”

Now that was… Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan, confused about that little nugget of information.

Lan Zhan, not looking at him but at Lan Yuan, chastised his son gently.

“A-Yuan, you cannot simply ask unrelated people to adopt you. I am your cousin. We were family before I adopted you. The same cannot be asked for from unrelated people.”

It was a very rational explanation, Wei Ying thought. It also answered a few questions about the apparent non-existence of a mother. But it also seriously underestimated Wei Ying’s particular brand of free-spiritedness combined with a healthy dose of disregard for societal conventions, so Wei Ying lifted Lan Yuan higher and gave him a cheeky grin.

“For what it’s worth, A-Yuan,” he declared, “I would totally adopt you if given the chance. I don’t think your father would give you up for any price, but just know that I would.”

Lan Yuan gave him the biggest smile in reply, and Lan Zhan gave him the most severe frown he had ever seen in his life, but he didn’t care.

Lan Yuan was just too cute, and Wei Ying was entirely honest when he said that he would adopt a child like him in a heartbeat. Of course, a decision like that would be a big responsibility. Taking care of a life. But he had never been the type to think about such things carefully before jumping right in. He had always wanted a family. And he had experience in handling kids. He could do it, he knew.

Maybe I should really start to consider having a child, he thought to himself, snuggling Lan Yuan a little tighter, resting their heads together, even without a partner in the picture. I have Dajie too, I can rise a child on my own.

(He did not notice Lan Zhan’s considering gaze.)

---

“Are you a homewrecker now?”

“Hello A-Cheng, it’s nice to hear from you, I’m doing very well, thank you,” Wei Ying sang into the receiver. “Why are you calling?”

“You were seen with a father and his child at the supermarket,” came Jiang Cheng’s angry voice from the other side of the connection. “Flirting inappropriately. Really, now? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with a man that already has a toddler.”

“Ouch, A-Cheng, who do you think I am?” Wei Ying asked theatrically. (If he was honest, the sentiment hurt a little.) “He’s just a neighbour, I was helping out like good neighbours do. He is in fact not married and the child is adopted, so even if I was sleeping with him, which I’m not, there would be nothing inappropriate about it. Also, I have never slept with any man of my acquaintance and I’m not sure why this is coming up now.”

“So that means we don’t have to reserve a seat for him at the next family dinner?”

Wei Ying spluttered. “Wha- what??”

“My sister was really excited at the thought of getting a nephew. I guess it was too much to ask. If you start fucking him, don’t tell me, but I need to know if I have to make more reservations than usual. That’s all. Bye.”

The next moment, Jiang Cheng had hung up, and Wei Ying stared at his phone beeping at him in disbelief.

What the hell?

How had Jiang Cheng even found out he had gone shopping with Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan?

Still shaken and repeating the entire conversation in his head, trying to make sense of it, he heard the doorbell ring. He threw his phone aside and scrambled to get to the door.

As soon as he opened the door, A-Yuan threw himself forward and latched onto Wei Ying’s leg tightly, grinning up at him.

“Gege! Play with me!” he shouted in lieu of a greeting.

Behind him stood Lan Zhan, all prim and proper, with his arms folded behind his back.

“He said he was missing you,” he said with an apologetic bow.

Slowly, Wei Ying bent down and lifted A-Yuan up to settle him on his hip. He stared at Lan Zhan, standing there and staring back, and thought about the strange phone call that he’d just had.

Of course he was happy that A-Yuan wanted to see him again. And of course he was happy that Lan Zhan had come to actively seek him out.

And of course he thought that–

Well.

Quietly, he wondered what it needed to make Lan Zhan accept an invitation for family dinner.

Well, maybe not a family dinner, first thing. Something a little more private was appropriate.

He gave A-Yuan a small kiss to the crown of his head, and saw Lan Zhan following the movement intently.

Hm, he thought giddily. Maybe not quite as much as I thought it might.

He smiled at Lan Zhan.

“Why don’t you come in? I doubt I’m getting this little one off of me very soon.”

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #mdzs headcanons #not pictured: wwx and lwj lusting after each other in the hallway of their apartment block #lol #anonymous

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

Text

replying to @kine-iende, who commented on this post:

now thats dorky soft ^^ kinda wondering what his adviser think about his crush, because as you wrote, they do know victor well enough to catch that. do they think its a great match (not the least because justin's weapons helped a lot) and victor deserves something relativly normal for a change? or are they afraid their extremly competent leader (whose a dork) will get his feelings harmed?

I...can see this going one of two ways. It can be either played up for drama, aka seriousness, or we can go all in on the romcom shenanigans. Me being me, and having more than enough seriousness to deal with irl at the moment, I’m going with the latter for this thought exercise that may or may not have run away from me.

Okay, look, here’s the thing: for nearly a decade, Victor von Doom’s built a reputation as a stone-cold, terrifying badass— and for good reason.

His advisors were all part of his faction, and were the ones to see a young and scared Victor buckle down and get shit done. They’re the ones who remember how desperate things got, remembered the shock when most of their chain of command got killed off as the von Dooms were nearly wiped out, and somehow a teenager was the only one who had the connections, experience, and willingness to lead to keep them all from being dead in the water.

The fact that they’re the ones who managed to come out on top is nothing less than a miracle, honestly, and they all know it.

Victor more than earned their respect, is what I’m saying, and with the way everything went down, nobody really questioned why he never showed interest in anyone. If anything, it was a tremendous boon— more than one of their rival factions ended up collapsing due to infighting because someone couldn’t keep it in their damn pants, so there wasn’t any complaints about why their leader chose to spend his spare time reading books and treatises on military strategy in lieu of anything else.

...and then they won the war, and from then out out things were supposed to be easier, weren’t they?

Weren’t they?

Victor’s advisors had seen him at his best, and worst: seen him negotiating with arms dealers and brokering trade agreements, and how he’d looked when he’d...made an example of the cousin responsible for the decimation of the von Doom family.

As such, absolutely no one was prepared to see their fearless leader in love.

When Valeria, Latveria’s head of security, had first discovered the most likely identity of their mysterious benefactor, she’d been curious, sure, but it’d been a fairly distant thing: while she’d greatly appreciate making some new and possibly very favorable connections, at the end of the day it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if it fell through.

That was then.

Now, less than five minutes after Latveria’s leader had snatched up the picture and swept out the room, she groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, fuck, this feels like it’s been ripped straight out of some trashy romance novel, how is this my life?”

“No,” Zemo ground out to her left, even as he rubbed his temples, “this is worse, because this is our reality now.”

Across the table, Alexi let out a sharp breath and looked around. “Okay, who won the pot?”

“What pot?” Valeria frowned, only to get a wan smile even as Zemo leaned forward.

“We need more information, he could be bi.”

“Wait, you guys bet on our leader’s—”

“Do you know how many honey traps he’s rejected?” Alexi laughed, and now they could hear the faint tinge of hysteria in his voice. “It’s literally my job to keep tabs of this, so I know. Do you know how many of our rivals thought he was gay, towards the end? Because of it? I can either laugh or cry, so fuck it, might as well have some fun where I can. So. Who won.”

“I think we can safely agree everyone who had any variation of ‘straight’ or ‘asexual’ is now officially out of the running.” Zemo said mildly, and Valeria snorted.

“I...that’s one way you can put it, I guess. Oh— guys? It gets worse.”

“What is it?” Zemo asked in trepidation, and she smiled. Or. Well, tried to, it probably came out as more of a grimace instead, judging by their faces.

“His...first love that he apparently never got over? Is now the official supplier of the U.S. military. Used to be Stark, now it’s Hammer.”

“You weren’t kidding about the romance novel thing, were you,” Alexi muttered, then frowned. “Wait— damn, how long have they known each other? Wasn’t Victor like 16 when he first got dragged into this?”

Valeria paused, then hastily shuffled through her notes on the briefing she’d been in the middle of before everything went sideways. “If I remember correctly, he was 15, actually, and they’re about the same age...”

Zemo let out a low whistle, and looked towards the doorway. “That’s...one hell of a crush.”

“Can we even call it a crush at this point? You saw him, that was no crush, that was full-blown ‘half a second from pulling out a ring’ love right there.”

“This is not going to end well, is it.” Alexi said suddenly, and they all shared a look.

He wasn’t wrong— Victor, hell, all of them were undoubtedly on goodness knew how many watch lists at this point. Victor’s beau was...probably in the same in the same boat, for opposite reasons. It had all the makings of the plot of a trashy romance novel, and yet.

“For all our sakes, I hope not.”

“Don’t think I’d be able to survive the moping,” Zemo muttered, and Valeria wholeheartedly agreed.

...to sum up: Victor’s advisors all ship it, for obvious reasons. The rest of the world is too busy being blindsided by the discovery that Justin Hammer and Victor von Doom were childhood friends to notice.

SHIELD and Co. do notice he’s trying to get close to him, but assume it’s for nefarious purposes and so end up trying to spy on them...with poor results, because Victor survived a war zone, picking out bugs and whatnot is second nature at this point.

To add insult to injury, Tony Stark ends up being SHIELD’s best ‘in’ to the situation, simply because Tony gets jealous and keeps complaining about how never sees his rival anymore, but that’s a headache for another time.

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#thinking aloud #replies #Naught replies

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madsinfiction · 3 years

Text

Would You Go With Me? - Prologue

Hey besties!

Personally, I think Din Djarin would make a great country singer. So uh, enjoy this!

Nashville Star, December 11th, 2021

“Break-out country star Din Djarin has received an early Christmas Gift this year in the form of his two year old cousin. The singer was recently granted full guardianship of a distant cousin, Garret Grog, after the death of his parents in a fatal car crash in Philadelphia.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cara threw the magazine on the desk between them.

“Language,” Din chastised lightly, the toddler in his lap squirming to get free. The little boy grumbled, but didn’t say anything. In fact, he hadn’t said anything since the social worker had dropped him off the previous day. She’d said kids often had responses like that to trauma, and that he should look into therapy for the kid.

“I can handle a lot of things,” she continued, choosing to ignore his language comment. “It’s my job to handle things, but you make that a little difficult when I wake up to this all over the fucking internet.”

“I’m sorry I can’t control when people die and leave their kid to me,” he spat back. He knew that she was trying to be realistic, to do the job that he paid her to do. But the kid had kept him up until late when he refused to go to sleep, and then had woken him promptly at five for breakfast. It had been a rough 24 hours, to say the least.

“You could have told me it was a a fucking possibility!”

“I forgot, okay. They sent me the paperwork so long ago, and she was a distant cousin, so I thought someone else would intervene before it got to this point. But clearly that didn’t work out. So what the fuck am I gonna do?”

“Language,” she sighed and sat down, folding her hands together and setting them under her chin. “You’re going to buck up and be a father. That’s literally the only option you have left, and you’re gonna hope that your dedicated fan base of single men doesn’t abandon you.”

“Just the men?” He asked.

“The women will love seeing you softened with a baby.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s a good thing he doesn’t really look like you, aside from the hair, so there’s not gonna be too many theories that you’ve got an abandoned mistress somewhere.” Din glanced down at Garret. He supposed they did have the same hair, brown and curly, but the kid’s was lighter. The eyes were a family trait too, he thought. But he wore his hat low enough that not many people ever really saw them to connect those dots. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

“I can work with this, but you’re going to have to play the role of father to a T, do you understand me?” Cara continued.

“Yeah,” he said. He didn’t know shit about being a father, but he supposed he better learn fast. Maybe he’d stop and pick up a parenting book or two on his way home. Actually, it probably wasn’t a good look. He’d overnight them from Amazon instead.

“Have you thought about child care?”

“Been a little preoccupied,” he said, adjusting the kid in his lap again. God, he was a squirmy little thing. “The social worker brought some of his toys and most of his clothes and stuff, and he slept with me in my bed last night. I ordered a bed for him, it’s being delivered and assembled as we speak. Beyond that, I haven’t had time for a thought.” Cara sighed.

“I’ll find an agency and get you into contact with them. The faster we can get someone in to help you the better,” she said. He nodded. This was why he paid her so much: she was ruthless, efficient, and ballsy. He needed someone like that in his corner, especially now.

“Great,” he said, adjusting the kid again. Finally, he seemed to be distracted by one of the button’s on Din’s jacket and didn’t seem in danger of slipping off his lap and landing in a pile on the floor.

“Go home, get him settled, and put together that set list I asked you for two weeks ago. The boys want to practice.” Din grimaced. The tour was the last thing on his mind at the moment, but it wasn’t like he could use the kid as an excuse to back out of his first several shows; there were too many people counting on paychecks for him to even consider that.

“Thanks, Cara,” he said, standing and holding Garret on his hip. She nodded and he turned and hurried out of her office before she could ask him anything else. His brain was overloaded already as it was.

“Get me the set list!” she called after him as the door closed behind him.

#din djarin #the mandolarian #mando #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x reader #mandalorian #star wars fic #baby yoda #grogu

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

♡ last but not least - 1k words comments welcome

You twirl in the mirror twice, checking your reflecting before smoothing down your casual, yet somewhat dressy buffalo plaid dress. Debating if you should change.

Again.

For the fifth time.

Your boyfriend watches from the door jamb sighing as he pushes himself off the frame. Gliding into the reflective glass he stand tall behind you, his red hair relaxed as he's pulled it back into a little bun. He pulls you by your hips to him as he nuzzles your neck with his nose, your perfume tickles his nose and he inhales deeply.

"Ready to go?" He purrs and you shrug, biting at your lipstick clad lip.

"I don't know, is this too casual? Too dressy? Should I wear jeans? You're in jeans but also a button down shirt…" You look at his outfit, black jeans and a buffalo plaid button up that matches. The thought unintentional. He sighs letting his ruby eyes fall over your gorgeous frame.

"Baby, I promise you they'll love you. They won't care what you wear or how you look, they only care about how you make me feel." He kisses the rapid pulse in your throat swaying you on your feet, "And baby you make me feel good."

You relax into his touch, swaying in time with his feet.

"Yea,okay." You agree to probably the most agreeable man in the world. His eyes light up soothing some of your nervousness.

But not all of it and it returns full force as he pulls up to his old childhood home.

"Baby." You grab onto his hand, squeezing his fingers with all of your might. He brings your hand to his lips, a chaste kiss on your knuckles just before he speaks.

"Just smile baby, that's all it will take for them to fall in love with you. That's all it took for me." His words make your heart flutter, he exits the car when he sees you've calmed down. Opening the passenger side door for you, offering his hand for help that you gladly take. The street is quiet, the snow falling silently to rest on the tops of warm homes and bare outstretched branches.

It is a stark difference to the volume of the home that can be heard through the wreath clad door. Kirishima offers a shy sharp toothed smile.

"I told you we're a loud family." He grabs for the door knob, "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Sweat collects on your brow as he opens the door, stepping out of his shoes as you follow suit. He isn't given much time before his mother hears the door, rushing into the foyer with excitement. She gasps loudly as she takes in the sight of her strong son.

"My baby Eijirou!" She exclaims coming closer to cup his cheeks, she dots on him for a moment.

"Hey momma." He kisses her on the cheek before her thin hands move to you, cupping your face gently, "You must be the girlfriend I've heard so much about. Kamisama your smile is so bright!"

"He-hello ma'am." She gives you a pointed look before dropping your face to grab at your hands.

"It's okaasan. Now come, come. You have the whole family to meet." She pulls you with ease to the rest of the party while you give Kirishima a panicked look over your shoulder. All he can do is shrug his as he follows closely behind.

"Everyone look! It's baby Eijirou's girlfriend we've all heard such good things about!" She introduces you and the crowd of family shouts back a warm hello, "It's a pleasure to finally have you here. Please make yourself at home."

She squeezes your hand before stepping closer to her son to give him a long hug before disappearing into the kitchen. Kirishima grabs your hand and introduces you individually to well over twenty people making your anxiety skyrocket as you try your best to remember their names.

"And this is Sobo." He says, bringing you to a woman who hardly looked to be a grandmother. You bow your head and she laughs in response.

"So formal among family." She says softly, patting the chair beside her. You slip into the chair with ease, "Eji, dear get us something to drink while we talk?"

Your eyes grow wide, pleading for him not to leave the two of you alone, he offers a soft smile before saying.

"I'll be right back Sobo." And with that he turns on his heel, leaving the two of you tucked away in the corner of the large room to look over the family. Kirishima is stopped on his way to the kitchen more times than you can count as you wait for the shoe to drop.

This was it, this was where you would get the talk of how Kirishima was too good for you and that the sooner you left him the better. She opens her mouth to speak and you grind your teeth.

"What is it about my grandson that you love?" She turns to you, ruby red eyes glistening beneath the twinkling lights. Silence envelops your small corner as the smell of food wafts your way. Swallowing thickly you speak the truth.

"He is kind, it is almost otherworldly. He is strong, brave and never afraid to show emotion or to be vulnerable. He is a man who was raised well and I love him for him." It all slips out as you watch him laugh with his cousins, a smile that you always wear when you gaze at him.

Sobo watches you, your eyes, your demeanor and when she knows the words you speak are true. She smiles herself.

"Let me show you something." She says softly, pulling at a book on the nearby bookshelf. She settles back into her chair setting it on the dark wood table. She flips the cover open and points at the first black and white picture of a handsome man with long dark hair.

"This was my husband and I loved him dearly. Eijirou reminds me a lot of him, so you can see he is precious to me." She begins, her frail finger pointing out their wedding photo next, "I need to know he will be loved and safe. If I could keep him from ever knowing pain I would."

You nod in agreement wanting nothing more than to keep your man pure of heart and pain free.

"But life doesn't work that way. In all my years I've learned that the hard way." She flips the pages again, as you watch her belly swell with each image, her family growing before your eyes. Finally she flips to her children's children, all or them amassed or spread across the pages. You are a young Kirishima with black hair in a still frame.

"So I must trust in the people he surrounds himself with. People can say things but never mean it. His close friend Bakugou is a great example. He is harsh and pigheaded but I know he would protect my grandson with his life." She sighs looking over the photos as you glance at her face. She smiles meeting your eyes, "I'd like to thank I can put my trust into you as well."

She leaves no room for you to respond before she flips a few pages back, telling stories of each captured moment.

Kirishima finally makes it to the kitchen after spending a half an hour trying to keep his talking to a minimum. But he couldn't blame his family it had been months since he had seen most of them and besides it's not as if Sobo would say anything rude to you even if she somehow disapproved of you. He pours a cup of tea and a mixed drink for you. Gently pushing his way through the crowd with the drinks as an excuse not to linger.

Finally the two of you come into view and he freezes in his tracks. The first thing he sees is the frayed edges of the book. The family album spread open before you as Sobo shares the treasured memories.

Tears form in his eyes as he watches the scene unfold in disbelief. Of all his girlfriends he is glad Sobo has bonded with you. The others were only tolerated and even the one he brought multiple years in a row never even knew of the family album. But there you sat, smiling, laughing with Sobo who's crows feet giving her a certain type of magic. He sighs, holding the breath he didn't even know he was holding. Walking towards two women that held his heart.

"You ladies having fun?" He asks, setting down the glasses as he looks over Sobo's shoulder.

"Eijirou, I think you should let your black hair come back! Look at how cute you were!" You exclaim pointing to an old photo. He cannot help but smile, fingers absentmindedly feeling at his strands. Sobo looks up at him while you gush over the album pulling her attention back with more questions. Sobo secretly grabs for Kirishima's hand and slips something small and cool into his palm.

When he pulls his hand away he notices the old small ring biting his lip to keep his tears in.

Not that he needed his grandmother's approval for what he was already planning to do in the new year but it was definitely a relief to have. He smiles down at the women clothing the old ruby ring in his hand as he fights to keep his voice even.

"I'll leave you two to your fun. I'm sure we'll make memories for the album soon enough"

#kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha holiday #bnha holiday special #bnha fluff #kirishima fluff

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #nini salazar-roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #rini #seblos #redlyn #portwell #jnk

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

Princess Part 11

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Link to Part 10

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- smut

______

Regulus sat watching Emma’s feeble attempt at seducing him with an amused smile on his face. This had to be one of the most laughable moments that he had in some time. When Emma batted her eyes at him for the fiftieth time, Regulus knew that he had to put a stop to the charade before he started laughing and missed a chance at being an ass.

“Do you have something in your eye?”

Emma’s smile fell as an annoyed expression went over her face. She expected Regulus to take the bait. Why wouldn’t he? Emma was, after all, a pureblood girl from a good family. She hadn’t betrayed him. Why wouldn't he be interested in her? Maybe she should have just taken her top off as she had originally planned or kissed Regulus? Guys seemed to have a hard time saying no to her when her clothes were off or her lips were on theirs. Regulus would probably be no different.

“Are you serious, Regulus?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He had the perfect response to annoy the slut a little further.

“No, that’s my brother. I figured that you would know who you are trying to very poorly seduce. Just a heads up...Remus Lupin will probably have something to say about you trying to steal his boyfriend.”

It took all that Regulus had to keep his calm cool composure when Emma’s mouth dropped.

“I do not want Sirius! I want you!”

Regulus picked his book back up and went back to the place that he had stopped reading.

“Well, go make me a sandwich or something.”

Emma stomped her foot before crossing the room and taking the book away from Regulus. He gave her an annoyed scowl before crossing his arms over his chest.

“I want you to pay attention to me.”

“People in hell want ice water.”

Regulus calmly replied as Emma became angrier.

“I don’t get it! Why would you not want me? I’m beautiful….perfect….”

Regulus held a hand up.

“I’m going to stop you right there. First off, you aren’t perfect. You’re a selfish snooty bitch who was never told no enough. Second, Evan isn’t even cold in his grave and you are throwing yourself at me knowing that I am engaged to your best friend. I think that you need to go look up the definition of a best friend. You should also know that I am very hard to please and nothing about you does anything for me. Now, the door is over there. Go see yourself out.”

Emma furiously picked her coat up before storming to the door. Regulus didn’t bother looking at her as he gave her a sassy little wave.

“You’ll regret this!”

Emma snapped before slamming the door behind her. Regulus chuckled. Was he supposed to be afraid of her or something? Not a chance...

“Foolish girl. You know nothing of my power.”

(meanwhile)

You sat at your desk looking over some files that Mr. Crouch asked you to catalog. The door opening and closing didn’t pull you away from your work. You were used to people always coming and going so someone coming in was nothing new. It wasn’t until you heard Emma’s voice did you look up.

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Hello, Emma.”

You replied as she sat down in a chair across from your desk. It had been months since you had spoken a word to your “best friend.” You had begun to question just what Emma actually was to you. Out of all of your friends, it was only Melissa that seemed to not fall off the planet when the relationship with Regulus failed. Melissa didn’t care less what was going on with Regulus. She took the time to explain...

“I care about you. I want to see you happy. Clearly, you aren’t happy without him but by the words that he said to you...he may not be good for you. If you decide to patch things up, however, I will still be here for you.”

Emma never took two seconds to ask if you were okay or to check-in. You weren’t even invited to her wedding to your own damned cousin. Emma’s intentions were very clear. She was only your friend to make herself look better.

“So, the rumors are true. You are working for Barty’s father. Aren’t you embarrassed to work for a man that would lock up his own son?”

Leaning back in your chair, you fought back the urge to tell her to go fuck herself.

“The evidence against him was too damning. Just like if your husband was alive there would be enough to lock him up to.”

Emma’s smile turned even icier.

“I guess the same could be said about your fiance. I heard that Regulus charmed you again. It seems that he doesn't really care about his reputation anymore. Dating a blood traitor doesn’t seem like a very wise thing to do. What’s going on with the Black family?”

You swallowed back the burning rage that was beginning to build.

“If you’ve come to insult me it isn’t working. It's funny how you used to love to be in my presence now you are acting like you are better than me. I hate to break it to you, Emma, there is nothing better about you. Lucky for me, I got to see a lot better views on the world than what was shoved down your throat. It's probably best that you leave.”

Emma stood up.

“Regulus will tire of you eventually. He wants the spoiled princess that he fell in love with. This whole Y/n the social justice warrior...it won’t do you any good. He’ll want a girl like me and I think you know that. He and I would make a good couple.”

The taunt shook you to your core. It was the worry that you had in the back of your mind. What if Regulus decided to go back to the old ways? What if he decided that your new-found personal growth was going in the opposite direction of what he was going in? Would you be able to stand back and watch him leave you for someone like Emma?

“In your dreams. Hell would freeze over before Regulus became interested in you.”

You replied as Emma smiled coyly.

“You aren’t good enough for him anymore and I think deep down you know it too.”

Emma didn’t wait for you to reply before walking out without another word.

Emma’s words plagued your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. Did she really think that you weren't good enough for Regulus? If so, the better question was why did you care? Maybe it was the fact that you had grown up thinking Emma was your best friend? Best friends didn’t do each other that way.

It seemed like all of your best friends were falling apart. Evan was dead. Barty Crouch Jr was in prison. Severus Snape had gone to teach at Hogwarts and wouldn't answer any owls from his friends. Literally, the only people that you spoke to was Regulus and Melissa (when she was in town).

It all isn’t bad. Your friends now are much nicer.

That particular thought made you smile. A truer statement couldn’t have been said. Maybe there was some good that came out of the brief break up with Regulus. You had grown closer to Sirius which led to your now close friendship with Remus, James, and Lily.

You had considered calling Lily several times that afternoon and talking to her about what happened. She would probably have some excellent motherly advice to offer or she would sympathize with you. Lily always knew what to say when you needed help the most. Maybe this is what having “healthy” friends felt like.

Regulus looked up when you stepped into that afternoon. It didn’t take him knowing everything about you to know that something was bugging you.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You sat your bag down with a sigh.

“Enma is a bitch. I can't believe that I ever liked her.”

Regulus frowned a bit as he stood up to follow you into the kitchen.

“So was it tequila day down at Crouch's office?”

You poured a glass of water before turning to face your fiance. Did you tell him how you were feeling? It would go one of two ways. Regulus would get annoyed with you for even thinking that he would want someone like Emma or he would brush it off with a sarcastic comment.

“Emma came to see me today. It was the first time that I have spoken to her in 2 months. She took the time out of her busy schedule of eating bonbons and living off of my cousin’s money to come to tell me what a blood traitor that I am. She also seems to fancy you.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and limped over to you.

“I would rather die a virgin...if I was one. You have my v-card so it isn’t like she would be getting anything.”

“Very funny.”

You replied with a huff.

“I better go ahead and tell you so this doesn’t come back and bite me in the ass later. She came by here earlier. I assumed it was to get the stuff of Evan’s that I had. She tried, very poorly might I add, to seduce me.”

“What?”

You interrupted. Regulus quickly reached out and pulled you to him. His mouth was on yours silencing any chances of you throwing a fit. Putting a hand on the side of your face, Regulus didn’t move away from you. He wanted to preserve whatever kind of closeness that he could get.

“Nothing happened. I made a bunch of sassy snarky comments until she left. She made me want to vomit...my stomach still hurts.”

“What did she do?”

“Y/n...it doesn’t…”

You cut him off.

“Yes, it does! You’re my fiance, not hers.”

You pulled away and walked to the other side of the room. Picking up a dish, you started furiously washing the delicate china until the plate broke in half.

“Damn it.”

You as Regulus came over to join you. He took the two broken pieces of the plate and laid them on the counter. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and snuggled his face into the back of your neck.

“You should stop trying to clean things so we don’t run out of china. You’re right. I am your fiance...all yours. Princess, I don’t be mad. Why would I want Evan’s sloppy seconds? That’s gross.”

“That’s fair.”

You replied.

“I mean it, Y/n. I want nothing to do with her. I think it's best that we distance ourselves from our old friends. We have other things to worry about now and soon Voldemort is going to figure out what I did with the locket. Maybe lying low won’t be such a bad idea.”

You lay your head back against Regulus’ shoulder.

“What do you suggest we do?”

You asked. If the two of you were going to “lay low” you knew this meant taking an extended leave from work. Mr. Crouch would probably understand once you let him know fully what was going on. He was already aware that you were back with Regulus.

“As much as I don’t want to do this, maybe staying with Sirius for some time wouldn't be a horrible idea. It will be difficult. I’ve lived with my brother before and...god he’s annoying but he wants to help.”

“Sirius isn’t that bad anymore. He’s actually kind of funny.”

You replied, hoping to ease the tension that you felt in Regulus’ body. Regulus would never admit it to you but he really didn’t mind the idea of being near his brother. Sirius had saved him after all. If Sirius didn’t care, he never would have made sure that Regulus was put back together.

“Yeah, I suppose that he is. I’ll talk to Sirius about everything later. What about us?”

You turned in Regulus’ arms with a confused expression.

“What about us?”

Regulus gently lifted you onto the counter.

“I don’t want you mad at me.”

You reached out and pulled Regulus to you by his shirt. Running your fingers through his hair, you pulled him into a soft kiss.

“I’m not mad at you. I only wish that I could have seen you sass her.”

Regulus smiled against your mouth.

“I told her to shut up and make me a sandwich.”

You were both laughing over that one. That little comment probably got under Emma’s skin more than anything.

“I’m sure she loved that.”

Regulus nodded.

“She was thrilled. I’m sure she doesn’t want me now. She probably thinks that I just order you around like a servant. What can I do to make your day better, love?”

You immediately smiled.

“I want to be fucked now...if you’re up to it.”

Regulus bit his bottom lips before smiling up at you.

“I was asking for it this morning.”

Sliding off of the counter, you wrapped your hand around Regulus’ and tugged him into the bedroom. Regulus didn’t bother to kick the door closed behind him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Enjoying the closeness was as nice as having him inside of you. In your time apart, you had grown to treasure the small things in your relationship. It wasn’t all about sex anymore. It was about the simple things before sex...the way that Regulus held you, your face pressed in his neck, hearing the sound of his heart beating as your skin finally touched again.

“I can’t believe that it's been two months since I’ve touched you.”

Regulus commented as he tugged your dress over your head.

“Never again.”

He added. You only nodded. There was a lot more that you could say but you had a feeling that Regulus knew it. You could see it in his eyes.

“This means everything...you and I…”

You finally commented before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Regulus reached up to cup your face in his hands. He didn’t want you to look away from him.

“It does...you’re mine.”

The next kiss was soft and sultry for a moment before turning hungry and desperate.

“Love me like you do.”

You whispered against his lips. Regulus reached out and gently pushed you onto the bed.

“As you wish.”

You quickly wiggled your way out of the remaining bits of clothing that was still on your body. Laying back in the soft sheets, you watched with a pleased smile as Regulus undressed. The scars and bruises from that night in the cave were slowly disappearing from his body leaving Regulus’ body as you had known it.

Regulus moved to get on top of you but stopped when you sat up.

“No, lay down.”

You instructed. Regulus didn’t argue as you carefully placed a leg on either side of his body. You took extra care to not put too much weight on him. Even though Regulus said he was fine, you still wondered if he was just trying to act tough so you wouldn’t fuss over him?

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Hurry...I don’t want to wait. Two months has been long enough. I want to claim what is mine.”

Regulus sat up enough to yank your body down onto his. His mouth was back on yours before reaching between your bodies to slowly push in. Your head fell back with each inch that was pushed inside of you.

“Reggie.”

You sighed his name as his mouth latched onto your neck. He could mark you up for all that you cared.

“I could listen to you say my name for hours.”

Regulus groaned, trying to keep his mind on the slow steady pace that he was trying to keep. He wanted nothing more than to pin you down to the mattress and make rough love but today didn’t seem the time. You needed the soft romantic side of lovemaking (even if the slowness drove him crazy at points.) You were worth every moment of this. Besides, Regulus knew that he could win you back over to the rougher side of things as soon as his own body would permit it.

You closed your eyes, trying to hold onto whatever grip on reality that you had. When you could get the strength to open your eyes, you were relieved to see Regulus’ eyes were closed and an expression of sheer ecstasy was on his face. It was taking all that Regulus had to hold on. The way you gently ground your hips to match his slow, deep, penetrating thrusts was enough to make someone who hadn't been touched in two months want to fall apart.

“Close, Reggie.”

You managed to choke out as he nodded eagerly.

“Me too.”

The cascade of an orgasm was enough to make you want to sob in his arms.

“That’s it. Princess...that’s it.”

Regulus muttered like a prayer as he focused his thrusts at pushing you through each wave of what had to be one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Come, beautiful boy.”

You cooed, focusing your attention on pushing him over the edge. Pressing your lips back down to his, you poured whatever passion that you could give into the kiss. Regulus shuddered against your still convulsing body before finishing inside of you.

Neither of you could move for a few quiet moments. You were still gently kissing Regulus hoping to tease whatever you could out of him.

“I think we still have it.”

Regulus commented when you finally pulled away to snuggled back against his face. You didn’t argue when he pulled you back down against him.

“Like we ever lost it…”

______

@amelie-black

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anotherbeingsworld · 3 years

Text

Flashlight

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Book: Open Heart: Third Year

Rating: General/Fluff

A/N: Helloooo, I am back into writing (somehow?) !!! This idea has been in my head for soooo long ever since the song Flashlight played and I can't stop thinking about it - and today, I finally finished it! Its a rewrite but with a twist, something about the last diamond scene with bryce - feels so :((( , so this happens and I hope all of you enjoy it! I might do another one tomorrow, but we will see! Enjoyyyy and, I hope you all have a good day! 💖💖💖

/Tags under the cut!

MASTERLIST

I got all I need when I got you and I

I look around me and see a sweet life

I'm stuck in the dark but you're my flashlight

You're getting me, getting me through the night

Can't stop my heart when you shinin' in my eyes

I can't lie, it's a sweet life

I'm stuck in the dark but you're my flashlight

You're getting me, getting me through the night.

It seems to be a normal day, as she bumped into him at the hospital gym during the early hours of the day. He looks confident, excited, and happy – as she wished him luck with a sealed kiss before going their separate ways for the day.

The day went by in a breeze, as the diagnostics team managed to bond with Tobias as they formed a plan against Leland. Casey feels satisfied with the situation as she emerges from the lab, to be met with a dazed-looking Bryce who is hovering over the nurses' station. He looked worried, nervous as the confident façade from this morning was nowhere in sight.

She makes her way to him and asked.

“Hey, are you alright?”

He seemed startled by the sudden greeting, replying to her question with a bit of uncertainty which she knows all too well. He has done something – which has such a not good outcome from the expression that was plastered on his face.

“What? Oh, Casey – um, hi! I’m great…nothing wrong here.” He replies before turning away from her, suddenly facing the nurses' station as Casey raised an eyebrow was unconvinced by the whole act. She moves a few steps forward, as they were aligned – and his hands are shaking.

With a worried tone in her voice, she places her hand on top of his arm in an attempt to calm him down.

“Bryce, take a deep breath.”

He calms himself down slowly, taking a few deep breaths as the visible movement from his hands started to disappear. He looks around and immediately takes her hand in his moving away from the nursing station into somewhere private – an empty patient room.

She closes the door, as Bryce started to looked worried once more. Somehow, an expression that can be seen behind closed doors, somehow a vulnerability that can be seen through him at that moment. Casey moves on forward, taking his hand in hers giving it a squeeze of comfort.

After a few silent moments, she breaks the silence.

“Talk to me Bryce, what happened?” Her voice was soft as silk as he took a deep breath before revealing the situation her way.

“I….” There was hesitation, it wasn’t the Bryce that she saw this morning. It was something much deeper than that. She steps forward, as his head falls in shame.

She places a hand on his cheek, green eyes meeting his – as he lets it out.

“I messed up Casey. My hand slipped, I…nicked the arterial wall, and…there was blood. Everywhere…” His voice stops, somehow he felt himself slowly tearing up before he continues.

She didn’t say a word, as she places an arm around him – giving him the comfort needed he continues.

“How was the patient, Bryce?” She asked slowly, as he regained his composure after a while.

“The team stepped up, and thankfully – but, I froze today. Completely, it feels like the moment was flashed upon my eyes and there is nothing I can do about it. I froze Casey.” He paused before a sigh escaped his lips.

“The arterial wall was weak, and the blood..it was too fast…it all went blank. If the intern assisting the surgery didn’t step up when he did…I might have lost the patient today.” He buried his head in the crook of her neck, as they sat down on the empty bed, as she held him close. He had held her during her darkest days, and now it's her turn upon returning the favor. She places a kiss on his head before speaking up.

“Bryce, it’s okay; we are humans after all. Please don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“I can’t – I was responsible as the attending requested me for this surgery. I..I just, never felt this unsure of myself. After leaving home years ago, I thought the feeling has left me for good.”

Suddenly, both of their pagers beep at the same time – as they both stood up from the bed. Bryce still somehow looked quite somber, as Casey looks at him with a worried expression.

“Are you going to be okay?”

He places a small smile, a fake smile that she knows too damn well, and said,

“Don’t worry, I think I’ll be fine…I just need to get my mind off of this.” He replies and leaving a kiss on her cheek before he disappears out of the room as Casey started to make her way again to the patient’s room somehow still worried about Bryce.

At the end of the day, he was seen waiting for her at the entrance. Somehow, he looks a bit better than before – his smile was wide, but it doesn’t quite reach the eyes, as Casey scoots forward kissing him.

“So, where are we heading?” He asked as they walked out of the hospital doors.

“It’s a surprise.” She winks, as they walked excitedly to this secret destination.

After a few train rides later, they both arrived at a suburb area away from Boston. Away from Edenbrook, away from everything.

“Welcome, to our stay for the night.” She gestures upon the area, as it was somewhere a mystery to him yet, the sounds of the waves bring comfort his way.

“I know this is quite a huge surprise, I feel like – we needed some time away and I figured I need to get away from the diagnostics team as the whole issue is starting to give me a headache,” Casey states as she was met with a smiling Bryce, who looks genuinely happy for the day.

He pulls her into a hug, the first time that day – he looked calm, happy even. He feels much calmer inside, and she smiles upon the sight as they explore the place.

As the night falls, they sat together at the beach – which was an unexpected spot for the day for both of them makes him wonder.

“I gotta ask, how did you arrange this?” He asked genuinely curious about her smart thinking.

She lets out a chuckle before her eyes fall upon the waves.

“I used to come here before, and it was one of my cousins' homes and he was kind enough to let us stay for the night. I thought about bringing it up, so maybe we could take a day or two away from Boston – but, our daily work life said no. So, I made a couple of phone calls – and we have the place for the day.”

He smiles,

“Tell your cousin, I appreciate it a lot.”

“Don’t worry, he knows.” She smiles knowingly, as the wind started to blow giving a chill for the both of them. He places an arm around her, as the blanket covered them both from the chilling night.

The stars above were shining brightly, as the waves were crashing. It was a calming night for the both of them.

“How are you feeling Bryce?” She asked, with a bit of concern in her voice.

“I…feel a bit better being here. And, after I was dismissed – I did some reflecting, and I know we make mistakes, but…it feels weird to be making them especially with something we are so familiar with.” He states with a questionable tone in his voice.

“It somehow feels like med school again right? It’s the moment where we thought we knew better, but…at the end of the day, we are only human Bryce. So, when tomorrow comes – we can try again. Medicine, it's not an easy road – my mom warned me a million times before I submitted my college applications and the time where young Casey yelled in her dorm-room about a mistake on sutures! We will make mistakes, no matter how good we are. All the doctors before us even the famous ones misdiagnose, some even make the simplest medical mistakes an intern could make because we are human.”

“Bryce Lahela, we are human and imperfect. You will screw up a couple of surgeries, I almost lose my medical license. That’s the proof, we are imperfect humans, but to get where we want to be; the mistakes we make are a part of who we are. You are Bryce Lahela because of your victories, your mistakes. I’m Casey Valentine due to my victories and mistakes as well. You are a bright light to this world, don’t let one surgery dim you down. We just gotta fight in a different way?” She displays an all-knowing smile at him a call-back of their conversation years ago.

“We will fight it in a different way.” He says happily, somehow finally convinced. The smile on his face was worth it in the end, as they spend the night together – moments of running around the beach, quizzing Casey for her upcoming medical boards, and a moment alone with one another.

The night was magical, filled with insight and many new memories as they were each other’s flashlight – getting each other through the night, always there through thick and thin. As their small getaway ends, Bryce returns to the hospital with new renowned strength as the reminder was tattooed in both of his heart and mind.

THE END.

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom @starrystarrytrouble , @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss , @appiomofchoice , @bratzlahela (comment if you want to be tagged or removed 💜💜)

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #casey valentine #anotherbeingsworldwrites #fics #alya writes #open heart third year

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thisstableground · 3 years

Note

i'm so alone i didn't know who to talk to about it but i keep overthinking that one line in Champagne where Vanessa says “and it's not like Sonny's got role models” and Usnavi repeats “role models?” all confused and idk do you think maybe he doesn't think of himself as a good role model for Sonny? or maybe he didn't realize that fact before? how would he feel about it when he notices that his cousin might only have him to look up to???? idk what do u think

oh man i have overthought this exact same line in the exact same way anon!!! i think it fits - like, i always got the impression that usnavi is genuinely bewildered by the fact that both sonny and vanessa are upset at him for leaving. i don’t think it’s necessarily that he thinks he’s a bad role model. i think he just doesn’t really doesn’t recognise his own importance to everyone around him. that fits with how we see him at the start - he views himself as staying still while everyone moves around him, and even in a sort of meta-sense his role as kind-of narrator (which i’ve talked about before - how everyone elses songs are like internal monologues, but usnavi’s the only one who actually converses with the audience) shows how he kind of feels a little bit separated from everyone else, a little bit isolated, like he’s just watching things happen and commenting on it but not actually a part of it himself. which is clearly not true, when you see how his bodega is like, the hub of activity, it’s where we’re introduced to everyone and it’s sort of the centre of everything, but we don’t always see ourselves the way everyone else does. i think that one little line in carnaval, from some background character being like “yo, here comes usnavi!” says quite a lot, somehow: like, it shows that people like having him around, and to them he is an important part of the community and they value his presence. he just can’t recognise that in himself until the end.

my own personal headcanon on this, of course, is that it’s a lot to do with losing his parents. i think he lost a lot of his sense of self and gained a lot of anxiety around the same time, and forgot how to exist outside of his responsibility to the store and to his parents memory. i don’t think he even really believed he’d ever go to DR until abuela won the lotto, and he wouldn’t have actually booked a ticket without her being the one to push him (because she believes that’s truly what he wants and what would be best for him, and that he needs someone to push him to make changes which is very true - though i also wonder if that’s a little to do with her own regrets or doubts about staying in new york her whole life, following the path her mama set her on, never going back to la vibora, which is a tangent i won’t go into but certainly the concept of trying to separate your own desires from those that you’ve inherited from your parents or your community is clearly a huge, huge theme for abuela, nina and usnavi’s characters especially). but i also think that even his desire to go to DR was based a lot more on thinking about his parents memory and the past and what they might have wanted or where they came from, rather than thinking about what he actually wants for his own future. he says go ahead and make a set of goals, cross them off the list as you pursue them but we know he isn’t actually pursuing them himself yet, he doesn’t know how to. he isn’t very good at wanting anything for himself, and even when he does, he isn’t good at going after it (i mean, the fact that at the start he is incapable of asking vanessa out and sonny has to do it for him shows that pretty well.)

there’s a bit in the show i think immediately before champagne, where sonný’s clearly unhappy about the whole situation and usnavi’s like “??? i’m giving you your freedom, shouldn’t you be happy/isn’t this what you wanted?” (paraphrasing) he’s not saying it sarcastically, or telling sonny like, “tough shit, i’m going anyway”, he seems like he really wasn’t expecting that reaction at all - like, he’s only seen it from the perspective of sonny complaining about the job or slacking off, so surely sonny should be fine with this? and then before he can process that, sonny storms out and vanessa comes in and champagne starts. i always take that as usnavi not getting that sonny’s reaction really isn’t about the job at all, it’s about sonny’s relationship with usnavi. the same as he doesn’t quite get that vanessa isn’t mad because “you get everyone addicted to your coffee then off you go”, she’s upset because she likes him and she’ll miss him. he needs both of those conversations to help him realise his own place in the barrio.

so anyway yeah it makes sense to me he doesn’t necessarily think of himself as doing much to earn the title of role model because he doesn’t feel like he has much influence on his own life so how could he have an impact on someone elses? his parents getting sick, him being left with the store, none of it was his choice or something he actively decided on, so he doesn’t see that he’s done much worth looking up to, because he doesn’t recognise that the role model aspects are a lot more to do with him as a person and his many admirable qualities than to do with the store. he’s sunk so much of his identity into the bodega as his parents store and their memory and his job and, in a lot of ways, his burden that he forgets that he isn’t just a piece of equipment that keeps it going, that he has value outside of it, and that it isn’t really the store or the job or the coffee that people will miss, it isn’t the bodega that sonny needs, it’s usnavi.

#in the heights #character: usnavi #fandom: in the heights #me pulling an endless string of usnavi emotions out of my sleeve like a magician with a bunch of handkerchiefs: oh boy theres so many!!!#i love him so so much

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be-dazzled · 4 years

Text

The Art of Falling

CHAPTER IV AT THE END OF THE AISLE

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here | Taglist

Writer’s Corner: Happy Holidays! I wasn't able to keep my promise on a monthly update but I am very much grateful that you still all stayed with me despite what I lacked. Thank you so much. This has been such a hard year but there were many good things that happened too. Especially, 2020 has been the year of ships, the Gruvia ship! & we just keep on winning. Ahaha.

Anyways, After reading this update, please go spend some holiday fun with your loved ones! And if 2020 was extra bit hard on you, then I want to remind you that, it will get better. It always does. This too shall pass. I will pray for you whether you believe in the God I believe in or not, I will pray that you get through the darkest time of your life. I love you, my Gruvia family. Happy Holidays!

Masterlist

There was a polite knock on the door. Having the faintest inkling of who could be standing on the other side of it, Juvia quickly calculated the short trip from the stairs to the backdoor at the kitchen. She looked around the room for her mother and, not finding her anywhere of close proximity, Juvia started for her escape. Alas, as she was rounding the corner to the kitchen, Mrs. Lockser caught her hand and ordered her to attend to the door. She made an initial protest to no avail. The young Miss had no choice but to oblige her mother with palpable gloom.

It was not the gentleman, however, that greeted her by the door; not that she was expecting nor anticipating his visit. It was what appeared to be a messenger carrying a letter addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Lockser.

"Oh, Mr. Fullbuster, Mr. Vastia, I hope you lot like Caramade Franks." Mrs. Lockser's voice traveled and reached her daughter before her feet did. "I have risen early in the morning to– where are Mr. Fullbuster and Mr. Vastia?" inquired she, after arriving at the vestibule to find no fine gentlemen.

"There's a letter addressed to you and father. It is from Mr. Fullbuster."

"Oh dear!" cried Mrs. Lockser, who lost strength on her legs, having to put down the baked bread on a side table as she passed it, and sought support from the sturdy furniture. "It is because of your hostility, is it not?" Resting her hand over her forehead in a dramatic fashion, Mrs. Lockser wept a concern that traveled to every room of the house, "that he is withdrawing his courtship? Oh dear, Mr. Lockser!"

Juvia had only stared at her mother, finding her behavior unwarranted. For the very reason for her mother's woe was still in her possession – the sealed letter. Without ever opening it, Mrs. Lockser had bewailed an unfortunate conclusion. However, if it be true that Mr. Fullbuster found it wiser to withdraw his courtship, it was news well-received by Juvia.

"What is with all this noise so early in the morning?"

Mr. Lockser appeared in the hallway that led to his study, with lines formed on his forehead, unhappy with the sudden interruption in his morning reading. His daughters, the eldest and the youngest hastened down and crowded at the foot of the stairs, worried about the wailings of their mother.

"Oh, my dear Mr. Lockser. I am afraid we find ourselves in an unfortunate circumstance." Mrs. Lockser leaned her hip on the table, resting her hand on her chest in a poor attempt to feign poor nerves. "It seems that Mr. Fullbuster is withdrawing his affection towards our rude daughter."

Mrs. Lockser was greatly mistaken. The second daughter did not find such a circumstance so disheartening. It would only prove what Juvia believed – that the offered floras would last longer than Mr. Fullbuster's misguided affection – and Miss Juvia Lockser had no grievances being proven right. Nevertheless, the fretful daughter ought to put an end to this non-sense before her mother nursed a serious illness.

"Shall we not open the letter and confirm before you cry us a river, Mother?" If it was not so impolite to roll her eyes, that Juvia would have done.

Mrs. Lockser refused to receive the letter; afraid reading it would do her and her heart more harm than any good. She could not bear it when the town became aware, as they would be in a day or so, that the lone heir of Lord Silver Fullbuster had found her daughter unacceptable for marriage. Miss Juvia would not only become a pariah of the little town but her family would sink further down society and their reputation would be of no consequence.

"Oh, what shame it is!" cried Mrs. Lockser, running after her breath, "What disrepute shall befall our family only because I have raised my second daughter poorly."

"Shall we confirm it before you disown our poor Miss Juvia?"

As Mrs. Lockser wallowed in her grief, her husband paid her no more deserving attention. Instead, he did the wisest thing and proceeded to take the letter from his daughter and opened it.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Lockser, I will begin by expressing my sincerest apology for not having fulfilled my duty to be in your presence today," the letter read, "My dearest cousin-in-law, Mr. Vastia, received news of urgent business. He had no other choice but to return to Margaret Town as soon as possible. I was inclined to offer my services to escort him to the train station, as he believed it a faster mode of transportation than by carriage."

"Oh, what good news!" exclaimed Mrs. Lockser, who immediately recovered from her poor nerves. She leaned in to read the rest of the letter and had commented on Mr. Fullbuster's impeccable handwriting. "A true noble's hand, indeed."

The news, however, had the opposite effect on the young Miss Juvia. As her father continued to share the contents of the letter, Juvia hanged on every word, hopefully waiting for the news her mother dreaded.

"In order to make amends for my absence, my mother, in the heed of Mr. Vastia's wife, would like to extend an invitation for an afternoon tea in the Fullbuster Manor, if you will allow us such graciousness."

Mr. Lockser has yet to reach the end of the letter when his wife decided, with irrevocable conviction, that the visit must be paid no later than the morrow. In an instant, her legs miraculously regained their strength, as the mother of three could not even decide where to begin her preparations.

"We are never to make her Ladyship wait!"

She spat orders here and there and abandoned the newly baked goods, the ones she would have claimed as prepared by her own hand, and proclaimed, "Oh, we must head to town!" As she said so, Mrs. Lockser hastily gathered her daughters and nudged them upstairs. "Mr. Lockser, will you be as kind as to lend your family the carriage?"

"But why must we, Mother?" asked Juvia foolishly for she ought to know the design in Mrs. Lockser's insistence.

"Why you ask? To buy supplies!" Mrs. Lockser descended a few steps of the stairs to level with Miss Juvia; delighted for the opportunity to lecture, "because you do not pay attention to social decorum, my dear Miss Juvia, that you fail to recall the most basic of good manners." Mrs. Lockser lightly shook her head in disapproval. "We cannot simply turn up to the Manor empty-handed."

Juvia kept her silence and allowed her mother this little victory. A glance at her sisters, who seemed amused by the exchange, had her convinced that she was sensible to do so.

"Will you be joining us then, Father?" asked Eliana.

"I say this with regret," started he, "I am afraid I may not be able to do so today and the morrow."

"How dreadful, Father!" cried Juvia. "Allow me to keep you company then." Pretentiously asked her, seeking escape from the social obligation.

"My dear, Juvia," Mr. Lockser was never wary to make known, that even though his children had each their special place in his heart, amongst them, he held Juvia more closely, "humor your mother, just this once." requested he, and patted a hand on top of her daughter's head. For as it appeared, sooner rather than later, he may no longer be allowed this freedom.

After the preparations, Mr. Lockser returned to his books while his wife and their three daughters left in the carriage to the capital. They were met with several acquaintances and treated with sanctioned civility. To each one, Mrs. Lockser never failed to share her enviable news; and to some who were more than acquaintances, such as their neighbors also visiting, the private invitation she and her family were honored by the Lady and her lovely niece. To this embarrassment, Juvia attempted to remind her mother to be a bit humbler and feeling.

"I was merely responding to their inquiry," reasoned she, as the party continued on their path. "How was I being overbearing when I answered in all politeness?"

Juvia ought to respond in this way, "In all politeness and without humility. You were only being pretentiously modest while in all truth, Mrs. Lockser pronounced this piece of news so that the town would envy her covetable connections with his Lordship." Propriety demanded that she keep her silence and fall back in line with her sisters.

"I have never seen mother this high in spirits," mused the youngest Lockser.

Mrs. Lockser walked unapologetically on cloud nine that if her knees allowed, her extreme delight would have added a bounce to her every step.

"She is far much ahead of herself," replied Juvia, who eyed her mother's back with vexation. "I say she is foolishly counting the fowls before the eggs have time to hatch."

To this, neither Wendy nor the eldest had any response other than a shared, apologetic smile. So, Juvia opened a different topic to discuss on their way to Frankhurt Bakery, whose owner was an old friend of the Locksers.

"What a pleasant surprise!" greeted Mrs. Frankhurt at the door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Mrs. Lockser briefly introduced her daughters, although no introductions were necessary, and thereafter handed her good friend some list of baking supplies she would need for the Caramade Franks, ones Juvia knew her mother would have the cook make and claim as her own doing. After Mrs. Frankhurt called for the store help to gather the supplies in the list, Mrs. Lockser began on the real intent of her coming down. With no real interest in listening to the conversation, Juvia joined Wendy by the dessert glass case; left their mother to the leisure of discussing with her longtime friend the attention paid by Lord Fullbuster's son to one of her daughters.

"Oh, dear Mrs. Frankhurt! What good news have I to tell," exclaimed she, "What wonderful news it is!"

Juvia had come to Frankhurt Bakery since she was a child and for those years she frequented the shop, be it on her mother's orders or her own volition, the second daughter had come to know that Mrs. Frankhurt's business was the center of all information, whether there be truth to it or naught. Gossip in Magnolia traveled faster than the speed of light. In order to assure the widespread of the good news, that the Lord's son was seeking intimate connections with the Lockser family, Mrs. Frankhurt's was the place to light the fire.

"You need not tell me, my dearest friend. Such an important piece of information had been widely circulated in this town before you even set foot in it."

Just as Juvia had expected, the townspeople were now aware of Mr. Fullbuster's frequent visits. She was quite sure, without having to see her mother's expression, that Mrs. Lockser was very much delighted by this news; but not as quite as so when her friend inquired further.

"But do indulge me with the intimate details. Of whom, amongst your daughters, was the intention made known?" Mrs. Frankhurt leaned in, asking without lowering her voice and for everyone in the shop to hear. "It could be none other than your eldest, am I correct? For what man would dare look past the elegant Miss Lockser?"

Juvia, who stopped thinking about the decorated cakes altogether, strained her ears to listen for her mother's response. Quite the complete opposite of Mrs. Lockser's earlier alacrity, there was only silence. The only answer she could offer was continued mum.

"Oh, please, my dearest friend," cried Mrs. Frankhurt, "my poor heart cannot take all this suspense."

Mrs. Frankhurt's curiosity was not out of friendly concern. Nor was it out of the goodness of her heart; for Mrs. Frankhurt knew no 'goodness' unless she found it to be in her advantage. All she had was this unappeasable need to be the first to everything. With news as important as Mr. Fullbuster's choice of wife, it was necessary that she be the first to know and be the first to circulate.

Thus, in answering her friend, Mrs. Lockser hesitated. She was as certain as the rest of Magnolia that her eldest daughter would be the first to marry; but for some wicked reason, fate pulled to a corner and laughed. And so, at that moment, her main concern was the would-be endless guessing of Eliana's faults that made Gray Fullbuster look past her.

Juvia knew of this repercussion. She would not have kept herself in check if not for Wendy's loud musings about the decorated cakes. Despite herself and what was proper, Juvia would have run her sharp tongue and lectured both ladies about the dangers of foolish presumptions and baseless blathers. Instead, she had to bite her own tongue and, on the long ride back home, suffer through the gnawing feeling of guilt for having caused her sister's sullen silence.

...

The morrow came by and the family, except for Mr. Lockser who had to tend to the fields that day, was up early. They journeyed to the Fullbuster Manor at the crack of dawn, with no time to waste, no daylight to spare. It was Mrs. Vastia who greeted them by the door and accepted the basket of baked goods with all courtesy. As she welcomed the members of the Lockser family, her studying gaze lasted a tad longer on her cousin's object of affection. Juvia took notice but scarcely made anything of it.

Just like her husband, Ultear was a pleasant and agreeable presence. Her aunt, Lady Mika, on the other hand, was restrained by mere civility, to which Mrs. Lockser was either oblivious of or merely disregarding. She ostentatiously admired the dwelling and talked of it in familiarity that could have been easily mistaken as an imposition. Juvia's warnings were all in vain as her mother continued addressing Lady Mika with overbearing intimacy. The Lady was only being polite not to withdraw her invitation, which Juvia was certain she had already regretted.

The party was led to a dedicated tea room, of size thrice as big as the Lockser's parlour, where Lord Fullbuster was waiting with a little bundle of joy settled in his arms. He stood and paid his respects to each guest, introducing to them the child in his arms as the Vastias' only daughter. He then excused himself from the party despite Lady Mika's insistence that he stay.

"Ur and I don't want to be a bother so we will make ourselves scarce," explained his Lordship. "I will happily play with this one until I get one of my own," added he teasingly, casting a look long enough to make Juvia feel as if those very words were addressed to her.

Juvia grew ill at ease and chose to cast her eyes down to the floor, lest she revealed the effects of his allusion. Her effort was for naught; Juvia could not anymore hide the color of her cheeks as it was her own mother who agreed and made a pact on her behalf by saying she too hoped it would be soon. Juvia had yet to agree on the proposal of marriage and here came her mother promising Lord Fullbuster a grandchild.

"I will one day hold you to that promise, Madame." The Lordship bowed with genteel, a smile of satisfaction stretched his lips.

Just when Juvia thought she could not get more embarrassed; Lord Silver left the room mentioning to little Ur a promise of playing with her cousins from Uncle Gray in the future. Juvia could have sworn she was about to come down with a fever.

"My uncle likes to amuse." excused Ultear, who looked interested at the exchange more than anyone. "Why shan't we take our seats?"

Each guest took their stations at the lavish sofas. As they made themselves comfortable, Mrs. Lockser more than anyone, the help arranged the refreshments wonderfully on the card table. Mrs. Lockser's pride, the Caramade Franks, was unwrapped and she made sure to offer her Ladyship the first bite. There was short hesitation at the Lady's end but her position required that she obliged her guests. A request Lady Mika did not have regrets over. For if there was one thing Juvia had considered her family's saving grace, it was the bread recipe passed from her great, great grandmother down to the current Mrs. Lockser. Yet, before her mother mused herself or anyone else of her daughters being good bakers, Juvia made sure her Ladyship knew that the bread was prepared by their cook's hands.

After the quick dialogue, and a discreet scolding, Mrs. Lockser sought back the group's attention. Juvia could only admire their hostess' amiability as they were deduced to a mere audience with the rapidity of Mrs. Lockser's words. She only spoke of Eliana, of her good points, which the second daughter took no offense from. She knew it was more out of habit rather than an evil scheme. Juvia had long accepted that she had no good points worthy to speak of.

The conversation took a round to Ultear and her husband's business. The grateful Missus once again expressed her gratitude for the lovely presents. Without allowing the benefactor to respond, she jumped from one topic to another: delicate ribbons, intricate patterns, expensive gems and some others, to which Juvia never took a particular liking. Growing disinterested by the minute with her mother's monologue, she excused herself from the party to look for the privy.

Outside of the tearoom, Juvia found his Lordship playing with the lively little Ur and talking to her as if the child could understand every word out of his mouth. Juvia found herself entertained to see such a powerful and intimidating man conversing with an infant who seemed to have understood nothing; yet, very pleased with the little careless laughs she offered. Oh, what delightful sounds bouncing around the empty hall. She could listen to it all day rather than Mrs. Lockser's endless ramblings.

The enchanted young miss did not realize she was already staring until Lord Silver caught her eyes.

"Apologies for my intrusion, my Lord."

"I knew a simple tea party would bore a young lady such as you."

Juvia was mulling on the intent of his words when he continued.

"It's the last door on your left. Just at the end of that aisle." He pointed to a path lined by a number of doors on either side and lavish furnishings in between them.

Juvia could see how easy it would have been to get lost in that general direction but she said no other words to Lord Silver but her simple thank you, curtsied and then left the two to their privacy. As she reached the end of the said hallway, Juvia turned to the last pair of doors on her left, as was instructed, thinking it led to the lavatory, only to open them into a roomful of books.

The room was magnificently large. Its walls were all covered by towering shelves filled with books in numerous varieties. With a quick scan, Juvia decided it was nothing like she had ever seen before and her curiosity drew her into the impressive study. She only realized she was not alone when her eyes landed on a figure seated around a drawing table. In the middle of the room, nose buried in his book and a few others scattered around him, was Gray Fullbuster, oblivious of a new presence about to disturb his peace. It was a tad too late to make her retreat as Juvia failed to catch the door behind her.

The loud clack caught Gray's attention. He looked up from his book and, upon realizing who his guest was, fixed himself more properly and dignifiedly on his seat. Juvia started to apologize for her intrusion but Gray acknowledged her with a customary bow and then returned to his book.

Juvia felt in the least bit insulted but the gentleman's apparent disinterest did make her feel unwelcomed. And so, Juvia motioned to the door, about to make her leave when Lord Silver's words echoed in her mind. A simple tea party, he said, could not at all keep her attention. Juvia admitted truth in his words as she could only do her best not to let out a yawn in front of her Ladyship. It was then that she started to weigh her options. For how could sitting in dreadful silence be any better than suffering through an afternoon of her mother's endless tirades? One, she could manage not to offend the graciousness of her hostesses, and two, she could care less about offending this man. So, instead of letting herself out of the study as she initially planned, Juvia allowed herself to stay.

...

tags: @greenapplegrass @shampooneko @trizfn @anaken101 @gruviaftw11 @juviasblog @heademptyonlygruvia @unvalley @jetblackrevival @lannyathewitch @groovyah @jujumanga @suihime @myvatdafakthings @keepcalm-lovefairytail @shounenmangaotphell @loli-go

#gruvia #gray x juvia #be-dazzled #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia period AU #gruvia fanfiction #period gruvia #jane austen gruvia #the art of falling

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orsuliya · 3 years

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Since you do such detailed asks and give a well thought out answers, I want to know your opinion on the Ma brothers. Zilong, Zilu and Zitan. What do you think about them?

Ah, our three intrepid Ma princes... Wait a minute, why three? It's not like we're in a fairytale and while Zitan is certainly a fool, he's not nearly good-hearted enough to play the role of Ivan the Fool.

But seriously, it seems mightily suspicious of Daddy Emperor to sire three sons in quick succession and then, as far as we know, never ever procreate again. He's an Emperor and obviously fertile, so how come the imperial nursery remains so glaringly empty? Could it be that he has no concubines at all except for his beloved Xie Guifei?

Or... has the Empress been aborting babies left and right, and poisoning her way through swathes of women to boot? Not impossible, knowing her temperament, but it doesn't really make sense within the dynamic presented in the drama. Drama!Emperor hates, hates, hates the Wangs and especially his wife, so it's hard to believe he wouldn't have used this juicy tidbit to weaken their influence. In the book Wanru is allowed to run roughshod over Potato's concubines and feed them contraceptives willy-nilly, but that's because Potato doesn't really care. The Emperor, as we see him in the drama, would have found reason enough to care upon being given such an obvious opening to start a smear campaign against his favourite enemy. Stymying the imperial bloodline?! Why, I think it might be a crime and easily provable one at that!

This leaves the other option - perhaps there aren't any concubines in the palace or, if there are, they're not being, pardon my French, bred. It's not that multiple imperial concubines of lower rank aren't a thing in this universe - Potato gets at least two and possibly more after sitting on the throne for a relatively short time. It's a pity we don't know what's the policy on entering the palace. Is there a multi-stage selection process? There is certainly no indication of that! Xie Guifei might have been an attempt to balance out a Wang Empress, Seagull was Zitan's impromptu choice, Miss Screecher was meant to be chosen by Potato outside of any organized selection and the same could be true for Potato's other concubines. Our only outlier might be Zilu's Mom and even then it's rather doubtful she was ever processed properly as it would have required a lot of effort and luck to conceal an already existing pregnancy. No, Zilu's Mom was most probably a gift of 'peace' from one brother to another.

My guess as to what Daddy Emperor is thinking? If Zitan has been his preferred heir from the start and he very well might have been since it never had anything to do with Zitan's actual qualities, then it's possible that he simply didn't protest - or did so in a purely symbolic manner - when the Wangs started limiting his reproductive chances. Why breed competition? We already know he has no use for any sons lacking powerful backing of their maternal clans, see: his treatment of Zilu. And any son with such backing would be a direct threat to his favourite, not to mention a potential upset to the carefully maitained Wang-Ma-Xie balance.

...or it could be that Daddy Emperor really loved Xie Guifei and wanted no other. Seeing as he's strongly implied to spend his nights in her chambers twenty years after their only and last kid was born, this would make a staggering amount of sense. The same principle applies - he'd still not protest Wang tyranny over the inner courts, only he'd do it for Xie Guifei and not for Zitan. It does seem to fit with Daddy Emperor's general mindset. Let the others do open battle and exert all that effort, he'll just sit there, look sage and reap the benefits!

After this rather senseless and overly long prelude, let's finally get to answering your question. Mind you, those are not going to be organized, thoughtful opinions, just my subjective impressions on each and every Ma Prince.

His Imperial Spudness Ma Zilong

The not-so-little Potato that could not, but still tried! Let's start with the elephant in the room, namely his rapist tendencies or the lack thereof. See, I'm convinced that raping Awu wasn't actually in the cards, at least as far as Potato was concerned. Compromising her, sure, just lure her into an emptied palace and cry wolf. Outright raping her, no, if only because Potato is way, way too weak and soft to execute a plan this ruthless in its entirety. Besides, harming Awu to this extent would be risky as all hell and sure to provoke authentic wrath in both Daddy Emperor and Daddy Wang. The Empress is not stupid enough to give her husband the perfect excuse to do away with her son nor to alienate her main supporter in the same move. Even if she was able to force a marriage in the first place, Potato would be pretty much done for politically unless both Daddies suddenly dropped dead. The most she would be able to get would be a grandson in a privileged position, so she'd be back to square one, only with one more female to share power with. No, what Potato did and what Wanru suffered was mostly courtesy of Zilu's suspicious drugs. Not to say Potato isn't a rapist all the same, but I'd argue for diminished capacity.

As for Potato himself in his shining spuddy glory, I truly pity the man. From time to time we see glimpses of the ruler he could have become and whom he still tries to be, and it becomes clear that there was something there worth cultivating. The problem is that nobody could be bothered to even try. Daddy Emperor certainly didn't, leaving Potato pretty much to his own devices and believe me, it had nothing to do with his talents or the lack thereof. Do you remember that lovely family scene at the beginning of episode 1.? You know, the one where Awu, Zilu and Zitan lure Zilong into a trap and then leave him there to lie amidst icy rocks in the middle of winter? He could have easily hit his head and died right then and there. Or get pneumonia and die a little bit later. Does the Emperor care? No, not at all! Baby!Awu isn't that good of a liar, but even if she was, perhaps it would behoove him to actually investigate. Not from any kind of fatherly feeling, let's not expect miracles, but perhaps from political expediency? Yeah, no. And I doubt that was the only incident of this kind. Potato must have known even this early on that his father doesn't care for him, not even like an Emperor should for his eldest male scion. Moreover, there is no way Mommy Dearest wouldn't harp on about the Emperor's negligence in private, further affirming this awful truth in Potato's mind.

Mommy Dearest might care, but her care is no less toxic than Daddy Emperor's open negligence. Potato is her key to power, her only way to win the game of thrones and make all her sacrifices worthwhile... and this is exactly how she treats him. Oh, she loves him well enough as her son, clings to him in his role as Crown Prince and then Emperor, but she doesn't actually like him as a person. And oh boy, does it show! I get it, he's not this perfect shining prince that would justify her long years of suffering, but then I have this feeling she gave up on him the moment he showed himself to be perfectly average. Sure, she offers him (toxic) love and (conditional) support like nobody's business, but there's always this nasty undertone in their relationship. Mommy knows best, don't even try to think on your own, listen to me and only me. It's no wonder that Potato thinks he's perfectly useless and doesn't bother to try and better himself, if he knows that even his own mother sees him as a perfect nincompoop. Uncle Wang's open derision isn't helpful either!

And yet Potato is, deep down, a decent enough man. Better than the average Ma, I'd say. I mean, he has some scruples! They might be really, really tiny, but they're there, even as he's being subjected to a barrage of mental attacks from both his mother and his wife. Why, given proper support and a competent cabinet, he'd make a somewhat ineffective, but decent enough ruler, his handling of the flood crisis shows us this much. Potato's best quality is that he really tries. Oh, he fails, but he's no Zitan, content to sit in his room and mope while the country goes to hell. When it's important, he can make actual decisions! Which he may then go back on (or not), but it still counts. Also, he's not petty. Like, at all. He'd like nothing better than for everybody to get along and have lots and lots of plump babies. Even his decision to do away with Xiao Qi is not motivated by jealousy, no matter how hard Wanru and Mommy Dearest keep pressing on that particular button.

Is he childish? Yes. But then, he's never been given any real responsibility and for years and years languished under the care of a helicopter parent who never forced him to man up nor face actual reality, hence his disillusionment with Wanru, once she stops being this perfect smiling automaton. Is he selfish? Oh yes and it shows nowhere better than in his last will. But even so, such selfishness is pretty much par for the course when it comes to the Mas and at least Potato didn't wreck a country for the sake of personal spite, which puts him way ahead of his father, uncle Jianning and bro Zitan. And perhaps even cousin Zilu, who cared less for the country than for Huanmi.

At the end of the day, our humble root vegetable is a tragic figure. I can't help but pity him every time we see him bloom under somebody's attention. Give that man some respect and he'll pay you back with the same, weird comments about killing you nothwithstanding. And he did give us Miracle Baby, Our Lord and Saviour!

Our beloved Groomzilla, Ma Zilu

Daddy Emperor must have been stupid, high, blind or all of those in order to let Zilu and his beautiful brain slip through his fingers. He was right there, that defenseless, motherless boy and ripe for the taking too! If after years and years of being neglected and treated as an afterthought, after suffering an obvious slight of losing his love on Daddy Wang's say-so, after being allowed to supposedly run wild with no attempt at parental intervention... If after all this Zilu still craved his father's approval in whatever form he could get it, craved it so much that he allowed himself to be led into an obvious trap, then what kind of loyalty might he have offered, had somebody bothered to nurture him properly?

And it's not like his talents were easy to sweep under the rug. It's not until after he's an adult that Zilu takes up the pretense of being a never-do-well; during his adolescence he was still giving it his all, hoping in vain that his father might notice and offer him some sweet, sweet parental validation. Alas. The lack of powerful backing from his maternal family is an obstacle, but not if one actively tries to fight against consort kin clans and their influence. Or is it only the Wangs who are the enemy? Must be so, otherwise why the hell would one not see Zilu's relative independence as his greatest asset? You don't even have to make him Crown Prince to use him; just instill some sense of pride and validation, feed his need for attention and put him behind Zitan's throne. Okay, maybe don't do that last thing, deadly brotherly competition being a whole thing in palace environments, but still, use him! But no, Huanmi remained the only person to actually see and appreciate Zilu for what he was. Is it any wonder he was so absolutely loyal to her that even when it looked like she had attacked him with lethal intent, he still cared about her safety most of all?

And is it any wonder that he expedited his considerable will and brainpower solely for her benefit? I was absolutely floored when I realized that becoming an Emperor wasn't actually his ultimate goal - marrying Huanmi in the biggest, reddest wedding possible was! Even if he needed to drag the more august guests in at swordpoint. Not to say he didn't want to take the throne for his own sake; he absolutely did, but only as far as it served as a big fat fuck you to every person who kept dismissing him out of hand, so basically every person other than Huanmi. Taking the crown was a power fantasy, an idee-fixe of sorts, but for all that keeping a throne in one's basement can be seen as somewhat peculiar, there are very few - if any - signs of actual delusion in Zilu's actions. The throne is not a goal in itself, merely a way to achieve his primary goal, which is to marry the woman he loves, take revenge for Huanmi's sake as much as his own and build a life worthy of her. She's his Empress and by gods, she's going to be the real deal soon enough, no more cosplaying in private villas, however nice it might be!

Ma Zitan, the one and only Master of Mope

With every Ma Prince I become more and more convinced that there was something seriously wrong with Daddy Emperor's brain. Neglecting Potato makes some sense within the greater political picture, letting Zilu lie fallow is the height of foolishness, yet it's more a matter of criminal inaction than actively doing something wrong, but Zitan? Oh, there is no excuse for the way Daddy Emperor chose to deal with Zitan. If the Third Prince was truly his intended heir from the start and there is little reason to believe otherwise - if Wangs are to go then Potato is done for, Zilu was never even considered and Zitan remains the favourite long after showing his complete uselessness - why not try to prepare him for his future role? True, doing so openly might provoke the Wangs, but it's not like there aren't any ways to present such ruler lessons as something else, even a punishment. But no, let's just hope he turns out okay all by himself!

Now, logically reasoning, if Zitan was Daddy Emperor’s favourite and the prince he originally wanted as his heir, then Zitan should be given all possible help, right? So why wasn’t he taught any actual skills, whether in governance or in military matters? The thing is… they might have tried. In episode 61, when Zitan asks his faithful pair of retainers if he would be able to best Xiao Qi, their first answer is not that he’s the Emperor so it’s a given. Well, that too, but the first, immediate response? You studied the art of war. Which, okay, might be a reasonable guess when it comes to any prince, but those retainers are rather young and only recently-promoted. Before their soujourn at the Imperial Mausoleum they probably served somewhere within the wider imperial household, but not close enough to any great personage to be knowledgeable about what the princes might or might not have studied. Also, that answer, should Zitan’s lessons be limited to his early childhood, would make them look like idiots or bootlickers of the worst sort. But let’s say that Zitan actually studied the art of war and did so longer than his brothers. Or, alternatively, with more famous masters. That would naturally be a subject of some talk, if only within the imperial household itself. If so, then the female retainer, who seems rather astute in general, gave the best answer she could give.

Okay, so maybe somebody actually tried to help Zitan along. It still failed. Zitan at twenty or so is singularily useless and strangely unambitious, and no, calligraphy doesn't count as useful, not if one is an imperial prince and Emperor-to-be!

It's not Zitan's uselessness or even his refusal to feel any kind of reponsibility for his own people (as shown in the Huizhou arc) I have the most issue with. Although the latter is simply disgusting. And... really, really short-sighted. If Huizhou falls, as it surely must, Jianning and Co. get a clear way to the capital, leaving Xiao Qi to play deadly catch-up. Which means that Zitan's family is pretty much done for. Now, he might not care about Potato and Zilu, but surely he should feel something towards his father? Some filial piety, if not actual love? But no, screw the people of Huizhou and screw Daddy Emperor. Still, does he think that Jianning wouldn't pursue him to the ends of the earth in order to eradicate a potential claimant?

No, what really angers me is the way Zitan treats the women he claims to hold dear. And I'm not even speaking of Awu, although it's rather obvious that he cares little for her internality and rather more than is healthy for his idealized image of her. Xie Guifei dies for him, which is not his fault in the least... or is it? See, I'm pretty sure that Zitan's insistence on marrying Awu despite his mother's reservations was what provoked the Wangs to take certain... steps. Provoking a power struggle is all fine and good, if you're at least somewhat prepared for the consequences. Zitan is no fifteen year old well-bred young lady, he's an imperial prince right in the middle of a delicate balance of power, how the hell does he not know or care about possible ramifications? Naivety is theoretically not a crime, but that surely is criminal naivety. Which begs the question - how hard was that boy coddled by his mother? My guess is a lot. But Xie Guifei is but a trifle compared to the elephant in the room.

Xie Wanru. Xie Wanru, who supported Zitan as much as she could while being in a precarious situation herself. And whom he had no problems with asking for further support, going as far as to aim for the throne, disregarding her own and her children's potential interests. Xie Wanru, who didn't make the first move, even knowing Zitan to be a potential threat to her and hers. Xie Wanru, whose baby got a full portion of avuncular love in form of actual torture and was lucky to get away with his life. Xie Wanru, his sister, whose ghost must have screeched with fury upon hearing Zitan laud himself as this paragon of brotherly feelings in comparison to the well-intentioned Turnip.

Oh, and he just sat there like an offended child while the country kept sliding into chaos, simply because some evil old men didn't let him kill Cheng's entire army with his sheer incompetence. Those dastardly old bastards! Let them scramble around and let the people in the provinces keep dying; they all deserve this for not recognizing Zitan's awesomeness! I'm not saying he should have fixed everything. I'm saying he should have done the bare minimum. He killed a brother for that throne, now he should actually do something with it. Other than purposefully provoking the only guy who actually restored peace and stability simply because the man happens to be married to Zitan's first love.

I'm sorry, I cannot with Zitan. There's a lot more to be said about that twerp, much of which has already been said, but at this point refraining from plowing on it's a matter of mental hygiene.

#ask and answer #the rebel princess #no but seriously how come there are no other Ma scions in the main line #is Daddy Emperor overly careful after his own experiences with his brothers?#could be could be #Zitan oh so pretty and oh so useless #and that was the last ask in my inbox!#I can hardly believe it

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