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stardusthuntress · 11 months ago

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Hot... in So Many Ways!

TBB Echo x femaleMandalorian!reader (mostly pronouns and attire in this part, that will change in part 2!)

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: maybe this IS more of a summer fic, but who cares? I like summer! Holiday season ain't my thing, so imma pretend it's summer again! HAHAHAHAHA!!! So, here’s a fic where it’s so hot outside, it inspires a little heat inside too! ;P

TW: Echo is self-conscious, kinda a given; also, it’s flirty and out-of-practice Echo! Nothing too serious in this part tho! But part 2 WILL be smut! And please note, I am NOT a medic nor doctor of that variety, BUT this stems from my experience living in a desert, so it’s not 100% accurate on what you should do in the heat, but the note about not drinking cold water in excessive heat is a real thing! Wanted to include that in there for funsies!

helmet banners thanks to the one and only @/djarrex!

This planet was hot. Really hot. Even in the shade it was easy to overheat. So, naturally, this had to be the planet where the ship’s AC nearly went out. It sorta was getting overworked in this environment. And since they didn’t know if this planet was okay with clones, Tech had parked the ship out of view a little ways away from the entirely-indoor city.

The others were out collecting data for Rex. Except for Tech, who was in the nearest marketplace, acquiring parts. But they needed two people to work on the repairs until Tech got back with the rest of the parts. Naturally, that became Echo and his partner.

Echo was outside, doing his best to repair the exterior of the ship, where the Imperials had been kind enough to leave a few new blaster burns… right next to the life support quick repair hatch… clearly these Imperials knew what they were doing. Which is what landed the Maurader here, on a desolate planet the Imperials didn’t want. Actually, most people didn’t want it, it was mostly devoid of life, except for the one spaceport-focused town the rest of the team were currently scavenging for intel and parts.

Before he had left, Tech had warned not to stay outside for long periods of time. It was too hot here for the human body to withstand the heat for more than an hour or so at a time.

Or in other words, so hot that even Echo had shed his shirt. Echo, the man who struggled to explore a physical relationship because he still hated what the Techno Union had done to him.

And DAMN was shirtless Echo hot! And not just because it was hot outside. It was evident that Echo had made a point to do more than just get his strength back. Watching him work inside a panel at eye level gave the woman he loved a good view as she came out to bring him a part and hydration.

She paused for a split second as her brain restarted, short circuited by the toned muscles flexing ahead of her. The way his abs moved with every shift of his arms, flexing beneath a smattering of scars that clearly bore the stories of many battles, left her jaw on the floor.

“I’ll be in in a minute, I promise. Just a few more things I can do to reinforce this until Tech get’s back,” Echo’s voice echoed out of the side of the ship.

She shook herself back to reality and continued towards him, folding her hands, and the objects held in them, behind her back. “I’ll hold you to that minute, Corporal. In the meantime though, the part you asked for is in my pocket.”

Echo emerged from the side of the ship, confused that she didn’t just hand him the piece.

“There’s my handsome trooper,” she smiled, “come here for a second.”

Echo obediently extracted himself from the panel and approached his partner.

As he did so, she finally revealed the objects she’d been hiding behind her back. A wet towel, so laden with water it left drips in the desert sand at their feet, and a canteen.

“Mmmmmmm, you’re my savior,” he teased, “please tell me those are cold.”

She laughed. “You know drinking cold water won’t help you drink enough to stay hydrated, no matter how appealing it sounds. So the water bottle is just cool, but the towel is colder, and that’s for the rest of you.”

She handed him the water bottle as he approached, and leaned in for a quick kiss.

Echo quickly raised the water bottle and downed half of it in just a few gulps.

While he refueled, she stepped behind him and rubbed the cool, sopping wet towel, over his neck and shoulders and back. Then completing a circle around him, returned to his front to run it over his chest, and taking a tad longer to rub it over his abs to commit the sight and feel to memory in case this was a one-off.

Echo chuckled as he finished off the water bottle, “What are you doing down there, Love?”

“Just cooling you off, Handsome,” she said, straightening again, hiding a smirk, and stepping up to him for another chaste kiss. “One more minute, soldier, then back inside.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Echo looked straight into her eyes when he said it, a spark in his own, despite the heat outside.

She took back the water bottle and stood still, allowing him to retrieve the part from her pocket, and with one last kiss, she retreated back inside.

Echo watched her go, enjoying the view. The heat had left her in a pair of short shorts and sports bra, leaving little to the imagination. The sooner he could get back inside to that, the better, he decided, turning back to his work.

Behind Echo’s sweaty form, the door closed. As his eyes adjusted to the lower light levels, they sought his loving partner. But her eyes weren’t looking up at him, they looked down, and she was biting her lip as though she was holding back from something.

“That grossly sweaty, huh? I’ll take a quick shower, be right back,” he laughed, slipping past her with a peck to her cheek in passing.

“Hmmm?” She looked up, surprised at getting caught, but he was already entering the fresher.

Truth be told, she’d gotten distracted watching a drop of sweat run down his abs, emphasizing every curve…and she’d been holding back from licking it off…

When he came out of the fresher, a new set of clothes on, he found her at a console, running diagnostics on the patchwork repairs he’d done outside. She was still showing off a canvas of skin that Echo wanted nothing more than to paint with his love, and leave marks on so the others would know not to touch what was his.

“Feel better?” She asked, not taking her eyes off the screen, wanting to finish quickly so she could get back to her handsome partner.

Echo came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her exposed midriff, humming a response as his lips found her neck.

“You should wear this more often,” he mumbled into her skin as he gripped her, tight.

She laughed and spun in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. “Aww, but you put a shirt back on!”

He laughed, “it’s better this way, then no one has to see it.”

“See what? How toned your abs are? So no one can ask about the story behind each scar? Or watch you do a one-handed push-up or pull-up?”

Echo let out a snort, “As if anyone would be interested in the battle scars and their stories on a mere clone.” He said it with disdain, and she knew it was because he thought she could do better with any of his brothers because they weren’t missing so many pieces, or anyone else in the galaxy. Echo always was very hard on himself.

“Echo, I’m a Mandalorian! Battle stories and scars are very important to my culture. The more one survives, the more hallowed the warrior! Take your shirt off and tell me the story of each scar you remember, and I’ll let you do the same on me.”

Echo was preparing to laugh, but found his mind was a blank slate by the end of her statement. Had she just offered to remove her clothes for him? Was this normal for everyone to do in her culture, or was it actually as intimate as it sounded? Echo blinked at her in shock, mind scrambling to figure out what to do or say in response. She also wanted him to take his clothes off for her. He’d never wanted to as badly as he did in that moment.

“Is that…. Umm… Mando… Mandalorian culture?” It had been a long time since Echo had had this much difficulty stringing a sentence together. He wasn’t even sure if the words he’d used actually made a coherent sentence or were just discombobulated thoughts when they came out, like the ones currently floating through his head. He felt like a shiny seeing a pretty girl at a bar for the first time all over again.

She giggled. “Yeah, telling stories of battles past is one of the best ways to pass the time for a Mandalorian… Though, only those closest to us know which scar comes from which battle. We don’t often let others see what’s beneath the armor,” she admitted, a little shy, hiding in his neck, and giving him an opportunity to get his thoughts together.

“Yes,” Echo muttered, barely able to find his voice. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She looked up at him. He was nodding rapidly. She smiled, and found his lips crashing into hers, as he kissed her hungrily.

Echo’s mind raced. If the computer hadn’t been running such important diagnostics, he would have taken her on that console, without hesitation. Instead, he pinned her against the bulkhead as she smiled against his lips at his enthusiasm.

“Wait,” Echo pulled back for a moment, “but earlier when you looked at me when I was all sweaty…” he looked at her with a question on his brow.

“Oh, that, uhhhh, I wanted to… um… it sounds silly, it’s nothing…”

“So I really was that gross and sweaty, huh?” He cringes, bracing for bad news.

“NO! No! Actually, I really wanted to… *sigh*, I don’t know why this is so hard to say… I wanted to… to lick… your abs…. I, uh, still want to, actually… if you’re ok with that?”

Once again Echo errored out, finding himself only capable of kissing her with a fervor he didn’t know he had anymore.

She groaned into the kiss, and wrapped a leg around his hips.

Echo’s hand flew to hold it to him. He enjoyed the soft warmth of her thigh, peppered with scars he could trace with his eyes closed. He longed to know the tale of each and every one of them. And he coudn’t wait any longer. He used his scomp arm to scoop her off the ground, his flesh hand gripping her waist, and carry her to his bunk.

Once there, he hastily climbed in, and gently deposited her on the soft pillows.

She detached enough to practically rip the shirt from his body, and shimmy her way down his body, still underneath him.

“What are y—hnnnng” he groaned as she licked a stripe up his abdomen. His eyes widened, as he peered down at her beneath him. He cursed himself for forgetting that comment. He’d been so caught up in being lucky enough to see even more of her. She smiled up at him, seductively, then went back to slowly tracing the edges of every muscle of his abs with her tongue. Echo’s arms began to shake as she nipped at him between licks.

With a final, sloppy kiss to his belly button, she slipped down between his legs even farther. A sly laugh the only warning before she pressed her lips to the wet spot at his tip, and used his moment of surprise and her battle hardened muscles to flip him onto his back.

She hummed with delight, nestling herself between his legs, arms crossed over his hips, hands resting atop his member as she looked up at him, feet kicking in the air behind her.

Echo lay there for a moment, just watching her, stunned, before summoning the energy to prop himself up on his elbows.

She leaned forward and kissed his abs again as his hips pivoted beneath her. Letting her eyes and fingers begin to trace out the patterns of scars decorating his body.

“You promised to tell me the stories of your battle scars, Handsome.”

Echo chuckled, decidedly out of breath, “who could say no to you, especially after all that, Mesh’la!”

She smiled, and squeezed the hand that still rested over his member ever so slightly.

Echo moaned again. “Nnnnn— as much as I love the feeling, and the view, of you between my legs, I really need yours up here.” He patted the bed by his side. “Let me love you too, Mesh’la!”

She giggled, and readjusted, with one final caress and kiss to his length...

.......keep an eye out for a pure smut part 2!!!

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

taglist: @cw80831 @amorfista (I know I'm missing a few people, so dm me if I missed ya or if you want to change what you're tagged for!)

#tbb echo x reader #tbb arc echo x reader #arc echo x reader #zenith writes

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void-inked-pen · 2 years ago

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Pen and Fanfics

I am... very particular about my fanfics.

when I want a fanfic about a specific character, I tend to hunt stuff down meticulously, trial run reading chapters of what people have written already, and compare that to what the fandom seems to take an interest in.

case and point: I feel like people have a very low bar for what they can read sometimes cause so many most liked or most read fics... are kinda just... bad? (that is just my opinion, I am not throwing shade I swear)

I am also an adult, and a lot of these stories are written by teenagers just getting into creative writing and stuff and that's totally fine! a lot of the more... eloquent fics out there are written by more experienced writers who have people to beta and understand the basics of good storytelling.

this is not to say anything that I've written is "incredible", a lot of my shit is not. I look back at Time Ticks By and compare it to some of the stuff I'm working on rn and LET ME TELL YOU THERE IS A NOTICABLE CURVE OF WRITING ABILITY KSJFHSKJFH.

Time Ticks By was a fic I started working on in college for a friend of mine who wanted more Mikey angst so I started brainstorming and brought up the concept to them. After that I just wrote the fic for the two of us, gradually building up chapters and throwing the turtles into some pretty interesting stuff. Then... after a while, I decided to post it.

That fic, was the first one I ever posted. one of my other friends graciously beta'd it for me as I went on (at one point they downright eviscerated a chapter and I am very thankful for the brutality but I was wrecked after that day lol). But as I look back at that fic I have noticed some interesting changes in my writing. My chapters are longer, I'm much more descriptive and meticulous with my wording, I avoid tropes as much as I can by describing a character's reaction by saying "the blonde", "the redhead", "the purple masked turtle", etc. when trying to avoid just saying the characters name (tho I still fall into that habit I'm avoiding it pretty well).

When I compare the way I am currently writing Let's Switch, my BNHA Kirishima-centric fic to Time Ticks By, my Rise of the TMNT fic, I can tell I've improved immensely.

That might be why I'm a bit iffy with continuing TTB, because the writing is outdated for me regardless of the fact I do want to finish it someday soon.

there's also the fact that my motivation for Let's Switch is... out of spite.

IDK why but when spite is in the mix for me, I get more motivated. Let's Switch is literally a non-romantic story that throws Kirishima into a situation that canon would never do because he's not a main character. I've seen sooooooo many fics where the angst is focused on Bakugou and Kiri is a supporting role, or if there IS an angsty story about him it's related to their ship or things like his depression. Those fics that actually focus on him specifically are so few and so short it irritates me.

I like long-ass fics okay! if a fic isn't over 20k I get mad because I WANT more long form stories! I wanna see Kirishima take the main character role for once and have it NOT related to romance! Romance is fine on some days but for fucks sake I just wanna read a story where my sunshine boy gets WRECKED and it has nothing to do with his attraction to his friend!

that's how Let's Switch was born.

out of me being frustrated at the lack of angst for Kirishima. Similarly to how TTB was started because my friend wanted angst for Mikey.

So yes, I have a very complicated relationship with fics. especially at the lack of my favs having anything. I am primarily a reader outside of animation so the fact that I got THIS frustrated and decided to work on my own story just to satisfy my own cravings, means I was pushed hard!

Thank you for reading my rant, if you know of any other Kirishima-centric fics where there is no romance, would love to see it. Otherwise, I'm out.

PEACE!

#pen talks #fanfic #discussion #kirishima eijirou #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #bnha #my hero acedamia #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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ackerfics · 4 years ago

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the parent trap — levi ackerman (i)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: none, just two adorable little boys being idiots

— summary: two boys discovered that they are connected in more ways than they expected.

— word count: 6k (oops i regret nothing)

— author’s notes: i watched the parent trap recently and i had to do this. everything in this multi-part fic will be based on the parent trap and most of the dialogue can be found in the movie. this chapter doesn’t contain that much levi and the reader (they’re mentioned tho) but it contains bickering between two kids. happy reading !!

part two

Bright gray eyes stared out the window, onyx hair being ruffled by the wind, as the bus’ engine finally stopped at its destination with dozens of boys excitedly finding friends under the cooling canopy of trees of Camp Eldia for Boys. It was a good kind of chaotic, a boy of eleven thought even though he wasn’t used to so many people in one place at the same time (his dad hated it), as he kept his eyes peeled for an orange duffel bag. It was a bright shade and he couldn’t afford to lose it in this horde — he didn’t want to damage it, knowing that his dad specifically bought it for this summer getaway. A shoulder bumped into him, causing the young boy to lose his footing, but not before directing an icy glare at the person, who scurried away after getting a glimpse of his face. Huffing under his breath, he steadied himself while patting his shorts and denim jacket, catching a familiar orange in the pile of duffel bags as he rose his head.

“There you are,” he whispered under his breath with a smile pulling on his lips, his feet carrying him to the pile. The moment he caught hold of the straps of the bag, a scowl replaced his smile, exclaiming, “For fuck’s sake!” as the camp’s staff dumped a lot of bags on top of his. Noticing the incredulous stare given to him by the green-eyed adult, the boy directed his irritated glare from the pile to him. “Do you need something? Or are you going to dump more bags in this pile?”

The green-eyed man rose his hands as if surrendering. “Chill, little dude, you can always get it out.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Okay, rude,” the staff murmured, walking away from the struggling kid. “Kids these days, having undercuts and piercings at a young age.”

The black-haired boy continued pulling on his duffel, occasionally cursing in various volumes. He didn’t realize someone timidly coming up beside him, looking between him and the orange bag. Right when he was about to call for help from the adults, the silver-eyed boy turned around, only to jump with his back on the bags at the sight of a boy his age looking at him curiously. Damn it, his lessons in social interaction with his nanny weren’t getting to him at the moment. “Hi,” he muttered, wary of the boy still staring at him with a tilted head. “Can I help you?”

“I think you’re the one who will be needing help,” the boy replied, nodding at the bags. “You know, with that.” A stretch of silence rang through while two pairs of eyes continued staring at each other, one narrowed while the other kind, the owner of the latter now walking to the pile of bags. “Here, let me help.” The boy effortlessly pulled on the strap of the orange duffel, the bag now free from the confines of the pile. The silver-eyed boy looked at the other person with wide eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the same age as him, maybe he was a little older. The boy was taller than him by inches and it made him feel small. “First time in camp? I can tell since you weren’t fast enough in getting your bag from the staff.” The boy nodded at the adults flitting through the throng of pubescent boys. “My name’s Michael. What’s yours?”

As the black-haired boy opened his mouth to give it to his newly found friend (surprise for his dad because he made a friend hours after telling him he will have trouble getting one with his snappy attitude), the brown-haired, green-eyed man from earlier shouted, “Altair Ackerman!”

He rose his hand, “Right here!”

“You’re in the Ehrmich cabin!”

Altair nodded, turning back to Michael, who was grinning. “We’re in the same cabin.”

“Awesome.”

It wasn’t meant to be sarcastic but given the fact that he grew up with an always annoyed man as his father (though his dad was never seen with a scowl when he was around), Altair picked up some of the older man’s habits. The silver-eyed boy took in a deep breath and roamed his eyes around the camp, the countryside of his hometown reminiscent inside his mind, clogging his chest with nostalgia out of nowhere. He was starting to miss the hectares of small tea trees surrounding their estate that seemed to clear the air whenever he took his morning walks, even their quaint little tea shop boring their last name in the middle of their town (well, it was quaint but their numbers are increasing around their state, which is insane). After eight weeks of being with people he barely even knew, Altair was in for a wild ride. He would much rather race through their estate on his horse, Nox, than participate in friendship rituals or whatever camps do during the summer (don’t forget the camp sing-alongs that his father warned him about, giving him second thoughts at the last minute).

Every hour of his flight to Maine was spent thinking about why his father decided to ship him off to the other end of the country. For what? Altair will never know.

A honk interrupted Altair from his thoughts, eyeing the sleek black car entering the camp’s premises with furrowed brows. He can hear Michael express his awe beside him. Who in their right mind would choose to ride a borderline limousine inside a summer camp?

“Dang, the person in that must have a lot of money,” Michael stated.

Altair only narrowed his eyes in slight scrutiny. His small family also has a lot of money but he never once suggested to his dad that he will be arriving in camp with his horse. Plus, poor Nox wouldn’t want to be cooped up inside a ship just for that. “Maybe,” he muttered in reply to his friend. “Hey, do you play poker? My dad gave me cards for this trip.”

“I don’t know how to play poker but you can always show me the ropes.”

“Great.”

As the two boys went inside their cabin and greeting some of their roommates, the black car opened, along with a lean man surveying the camp with a watchful eye. Most of the children had their eyes curiously stuck on the vehicle and the man with light brown hair had to hold in his smug smile at their dashing entrance. Ducking down to address the person inside the car, he opted for smiling encouragingly at the onyx-haired boy — he doesn’t want to bite down his tongue in front of young children because that would be embarrassing. Feet enclosed in dress shoes stepped outside of the black car, beholding the sight of an eleven-year-old boy clad in a gray suit jacket and matching short pants. His hair fell right past his ears and touching the nape of his neck in tidy wavy locks, his hand clutching his stationery box.

The man behind the boy smiled before saying, “Here we are — Camp Eldia for Boys.” The man followed the boy, who was walking towards the side of the car with wide, admiring eyes. “We traveled all the way from London for this.”

The boy of silver eyes chuckled, the sound twinkling in the air. “It’s rather picturesque,” he glanced at the man with a huge grin, “don’t you think?”

The light-brown-haired man swatted a mosquito hovering close to his face, turning to the child with a sigh. “Not exactly the term I would use in describing this,” he paused, looking around the vicinity with narrowed eyes, “place.” He didn’t want to be rude now that he saw how the young boy stared at the cabins with bright eyes. He took the box from the boy’s hand, the latter giggling at his friend’s unamused face, and took out a small notebook and a pen from the inner pockets of his suit. Opening it to a checklist, he started, “Now, let us review your mother’s list.” At the sound of the young boy humming lightheartedly, he continued with a small smile, “Vitamins?”

The boy grinned. “Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Check.”

“List of daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check. Check.”

The man stopped, staring at the onyx-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

The young kid laughed. “Check for the fruits and another check for the vegetables. Go on.”

With a satisfied smile, the man continued listing items from the list — sunblock, lip balm, insect repellant, and the stamps that the boy will be using for the weekly letters. Then, he also gave reminders for the photographs if ever the kid misses his family members. All of this was answered with a huge smile, claiming the young boy had all of those in check, adding a, “You don’t need to worry. I got everything handled and packed safely in my luggage.”

“Oh, and before I forget, here’s a little something from Hange.” The older man presented something from his suit with a smirk. “Spanking new deck of cards. Maybe you’ll actually find someone on this continent who can whip your tush at poker.”

“I doubt it,” came the reply. The black-haired boy swayed on the balls of his feet, an endearing smile plastered on his face. “Thanks for bringing me here, Oluo.”

Oluo Bozado, the butler of the esteemed [Last Name] family was a dear person to the little boy and the extended members of the household, seeing as he witnessed how the mistress of the household took care of the young boy all by herself until he was a bright child ready for all sorts of adventures. Looking at the child of bright stormy eyes and hair as dark as midnight, the brown-haired man felt his lips tremble with the thought that his young master was starting to experience what it was like away from family. It was only a week before that the boy’s mother decided to present more opportunities for her son while she was away for a business trip in Greece.

It was a great decision to bring along the child but it was more suited for him to mingle with people his age, knowing that he was homeschooled all his life. Now, Oluo was trying hard not to bawl his eyes out in the middle of this blasted summer camp so instead, he spread his arms for the little boy to give him a goodbye. Sniffing occasionally, Oluo muttered with conviction, “Now, you remember, if you ever change your mind and want me to come here and collect you at the end of the camp — we’re all only one phone call away.”

Chuckling at the antics of the butler, the dark-haired boy pulled away and patted the man’s back. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. You, Hange, and Mum shouldn’t worry too much. Though, Hange wouldn’t worry that much since they’re responsible for this suggestion. Nevertheless, I’m a big boy now. See you in eight weeks, Oluo, old pal.”

Oluo huffed lightheartedly. “I’m not that old, you know. It’s just the face. Keep safe, Caelum.”

Caelum grinned knowingly. The two then started doing their signature pact of friendship, which the child orchestrated the moment he started to be aware of his surroundings. Their hands clapped against each other, bumping their hips along an imaginary beat, sliding past one another, and ending the small show with a firm handshake and a smile on their faces. Oluo smiled softly and affectionately ruffled Caelum’s hair, making the wavy curls more pronounced. “Have fun, little prince.”

“I will.”

One week in camp and everything was going the way Caelum expected it to be. He made friends with a few campers, who were all chattering about how cool he was while entering the camp a while back, saying that he looked like a noble. All of their remarks will always be brushed off by the dark-haired boy. There was partial truth in what they were saying, his mother’s family solely responsible for why he acted like the way he is — regal. For a shorter explanation, Caelum was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Plus, he was spoiled a lot by his Mum’s best friend, Hange, who lived with them for he could remember.

(“Do you want to know why I live here, little bean? Except for being a freeloader—ow, I’m just having a laugh, [Name]! If you’ll excuse that interruption, I live here because this has been my home. Your Mum’s family accepted me after I came out to my parents. Aaaand, I get to see your cute face every day!”)

There were so many things that he loved while being on this little escape. One, this place was full of sunshine and laughter compared to his home back in London, not that he hated the gloomy thunderstorms and the sounds of the city back home, but it was nice to finally relax under the blinding rays of the sun. Two, the games were glorious, having to play alongside children around his age. It was exhilarating in the smallest of ways and it warmed Caelum’s heart. After getting their lunch inside the cafeteria (which consisted of a strange encounter from one of the camp directors, Nile Dok, saying that he saw someone who looked a lot like Caelum seconds before acknowledging him), the little boy roamed around the camp beside his friends. Ahead of them was a small gathering of campers and a staff, Eren Jaeger, Caelum learned. The adult was saying along the lines of challenging the reigning champion of fencing.

Caelum had to hold back his scoff.

He had a fencing teacher once and he was told that he could best anyone even if he would do it halfheartedly. Maybe it was the nostalgia bringing in the drive to be the said challenger but the silver-eyed boy found himself saying, “Can I challenge him?”

Eren didn’t look up from his clipboard as he answered, “Finally, someone stepped up. Okay, you can suit up there, buddy. Your fellow campers will help you get ready.”

“Got it.”

Once he was fitted with the white fencing suit, Caelum wiggled his arms as he released a deep breath. It’s been a while since he prepared for another spar, almost a year now, and he could only hope that he wasn’t rusty. Running his hand through his thick hair, Caelum placed the helmet snug around his head. Without waiting for their referee (who looked like they wanted to be at another place at the moment), the onyx-haired boy faced his opponent. He sized up the boy in front of him with blank eyes. It looked like they were of a similar build, with the boy bouncing at his feet every few seconds, which irked Caelum in the slightest. Maybe this would be the moment to be serious in something he thought he used only to pass the time. Lowering his stance with bended knees, Caelum neutrally positioned himself so that his opponent wouldn’t know if he was in the offense or defense.

“Fencers ready?” Eren asked the two of them, eyes flitting between the two boys.

The boy in front of Caelum said, “Ready,” in the exact voice as him that it unnerved the black-haired boy.

Shaking his head, Caelum flipped his saber expertly in the air. “All set.”

“Tch, show-off.”

The silver-eyed boy felt his insides churn with annoyance.

“En garde, fence!”

Caelum immediately forwarded a couple of steps, taunting his opponent with light jabs as the other person defended his torso against Caelum’s attacks. Once he had the boy in the green fencing suit backed against the trees with nowhere to turn, the last thing Caelum expected was to have his adversary dashing for one of the trunks, gaining momentum for a second and jumping on the surface of the tree in a graceful turn, the other boy’s saber slashing the direction of the silver-eyed boy’s stomach. Caelum backed away with a jump at the last second, successfully dodging the boy’s attack, to which he failed to notice the glint of metal shooting towards his head. With his instincts, Caelum ducked down and made a counter-attack, zoning his attention on the opening on his opponent’s knees brandishing for his attention. Annoyance once again prickled Caelum’s being, bubbling in his stomach and reaching towards his head in migraine, as the other boy parried his consecutive offensive maneuvers until they circled the entire area for the camp’s games.

The onlookers could see how the two mirrored each other. When Caelum went for the overhead jab, the other boy would strike his rival’s lower body. It was a dance of parries and counter-attacks that some of them were starting to feel dizzy from all the constant back-and-forths between the two children. Even Eren, who was starting to think that accepting this job for the summer was a total waste, perked up while the two boys continued meeting their weapons in parries as their little feet brought them to where the pavilion was situated. The green-eyed man even called for one of his friends, Reiner Braun, to watch the exciting fencing tournament. With bated breath, every pair of eyes watched as the boy in green had his saber thrown away by a flick of Caelum’s sword, leaving the former with nowhere to go and no weapon to deflect the point of the saber’s tip on his chest.

Right when the audience thought the two were done (Eren was about to announce the winner), the boy in green lost his balance from Caelum’s push, his body going over the railings of the pavilion and into the small washing area by the side of the establishment.

“What the fuck?!”

Caelum swore he heard the entire audience gasp.

The only question in his mind was ‘what was the reason?’ Was it the curse words or the fact that he just pushed his opponent in a tub of water that could’ve seen better days?

Pursing his lips, the silver-eyed boy leaned over the railings and reached out a hand. “Sorry about that, let me help you.”

“No, let me help you.”

Water entered Caelum’s helmet as he toppled over from the force of the other boy’s pull. He slowly looked over at the other person occupying the tub of water after sitting up. He could feel his eye twitch from behind the soaked helmet. There was a distinct chatter in the background, asking both boys if they were alright. Eren might have called over his friends and now they were fussing over the two with concerned and amusing questions. And yet, Caelum never strayed his glare from the person in front of him.

“What did you do that for?” Caelum seethed.

“Me?!” The boy all but screamed at his face, his hands gesturing between them. “You pushed me in, you idiot!”

“I did not!”

“I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers, gentleman,” the boy spat.

“Okay!” Eren interjected, coming forward and crouching to meet the boys’ eyes. His earlier expression of boredom was now switched into something bright as he looked back and forth the two boys. “That was awesome, little dudes! Are you sure you two didn’t enter any kind of fencing competition?” When he saw that the two had opposing answers, he grinned. “Campers,” he called out to the children surrounding him, “I think we have ourselves a new camp champion, from London, England — Caelum [Last Name]!” Eren stood up to his full height, watching as the two boys took off their helmets, backs facing one another. The said champion shaking his head and splashing water droplets like a dog while the other boy raked his hand over his short hair, slicking back his haircut. The green-eyed man noticed something from the two but he extinguished his curiosity with a, “Alright, dudes, shake hands. We love and promote sportsmanship in this household.” Preventing a chuckle from coming out since the boys didn’t budge from their positions, Eren once again tried, “Come on, little dudes.”

Altair has never been surprised even once in his life but the moment right now shook his entire world.

It was like viewing himself in the mirror.

Even though the boy in front of him had longer hair, there was no mistaking how his heart was pounding inside his chest, breath taken away at the uncanny resemblance between him and this boy from England (posh accent and all). He vividly read somewhere that seven people around the world looked exactly like a single individual, remembering how he thought that was cool enough for his seven-year-old brain. Maybe this was it. But he knew better because the more he stared shell-shocked at the boy with waves for hair, the more the feeling like he knew him bubbled inside his stomach. The boy seemed to think similar thoughts as him at the moment, stretching his hand for a tentative handshake that was long overdue (probably a couple of minutes, like Altair cared).

A zap.

A bolt of electricity.

It trickled in Altair’s whole arm until he pulled away from the boy’s grasp.

He was never big on physical contact, to begin with. Yeah, that’s the reason why he pulled away so quickly and not the possibility of sharing something common with the boy who looked like him. Brushing everything off just like his dad always did, Altair scoffed, purposely wiping his hand on his pants exaggeratedly as he stated, “Why is everybody staring at us?”

The boy stared at him like he grew a second head, which sparked irritation in his veins. “Don’t you see it?”

Altair lazily looked around. “See what?”

Furrowed eyebrows graced the pretty boy’s expression (by calling the boy pretty, he was practically calling himself pretty, and Altair had no complaints about that). “The resemblance between us, you tosser.”

“What?”

“I said—“

“I heard what you said.” Altair stepped forward a little to glare at the boy. “What did you call me?”

The boy rose his chin a little in the air. “A tosser.”

“I swear to God,” Altair murmured under his breath, a smile of disbelief painted his lips, “if you don’t stop calling me names in your slang, I’d really be a tosser because I will fucking toss you and your stuck-up ass in the lake right now.” He continued surveying the boy with eyes full of disdain. “And what resemblance? I don’t see a thing because you look nothing like me.” The other boy’s face contorted into that blank mien that he was sure only him and his dad could pull off. The bags under the boy’s eyes became prominent as he matched Altair’s stare. Huffing indignantly, Altair continued, “For your information, your eyes are much closer together than mine. Your ears … it makes you look like a rat. Your teeth are crooked. Oh, and that nose? Don’t worry, those things can be fixed.” Satisfaction made Altair’s chest puff in confidence at the offended look on the boy’s visage. “You want to know the real difference between us? It’s—“

“I know how to fence and you don’t?” The boy taunted. He placed a finger on his chin as if contemplating something. “Or I have class and you don’t? Just take your pick, good sir.”

“You little shit—“

“Try me, you fu—“

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Eren interrupted, placing a hand on both boys' shoulders. “Let’s break up this little lovefest of yours. Caelum, Altair.” Then, at the next second, the man became confused. “Altair, Caelum. Caelum? Altair? Oh, holy shit, this is giving me a whiplash.”

The following weeks were pure hell that Caelum was convinced this was his punishment for eating Hange’s stash of their favorite butter cookies. He could remember how they screamed bloody murder for whoever finished their special tin, with Caelum’s mother calming them down and saying they probably forgot eating them. Nobody knew who ate them, well, except for Oluo since the butler caught the young master in the act.

That Altair kid definitely knew how to handle a grudge, throwing pranks at Caelum left and right, causing the latter to retaliate in the most mature way possible — giving the boy who looked like him a taste of his own medicine. It all started when Caelum was defeated at poker the night after they had their fencing competition, defeated by Altair to be precise. That pompous idiot thought it was funny to taunt Caelum into diving into the lake naked and leaving him behind while Altair’s little posse took away his clothes. It was mortifying, walking back to his cabin stuttering because of the cold, no clothes to keep him warm. That spurred him to take revenge, asking for his cabinmates’ help in getting out the Ehrmich cabin’s beds for all the campers and camp directors to see. It only got worse after that. It was all fun and games until Altair got Nile Dok and his assistant, Floch Forster, in his ultimate prank to humiliate Caelum, turning the Mitras cabin into a mess of honey, whipped cream, water balloons, and feathers.

While Nile was screaming for Caelum and Altair to pack their bags, the former turned to look at his doppelganger with lifeless eyes. “You are without a doubt the lowest, most awful person on the planet.”

Altair couldn’t help but smirk devilishly. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Nile decided that the fitting consequence was to put the two of them in the isolation cabin. Caelum doesn’t know if that will help with their situation. He was convinced they will kill each other if they’re cooped inside a smaller cabin.

The first night in the isolation cabin was turning out quite nicely for the longer-haired boy, taking out his journal to write the significant events that happened during the day. He was peacefully enjoying his solitude that he didn’t notice Altair huff every second while glaring at the overhead light bulb that served as their only light source. At the umpteenth wordless complain, Altair had enough of it, sitting up in his bed and turned the lights off. The whole cabin was bathed in darkness, making Caelum flinch since he was immersed in writing out his inner thoughts of decapitating the person sharing his space at the moment. With an incredulous stare directed at the boy across the room, Caelum turned on the lights, which resulted in a battle between the two boys and making it seem like the isolation cabin was infested with ghosts.

After an entire week in the isolation cabin, there was a thunderstorm warning around the camp. As some of the campers screamed while looking for shelter one afternoon, Altair was organizing the posters plastered on his side of the room. The other person occupying the cabin was trying to distract himself by playing solitaire. The short-haired boy wanted to make casual talk since the silence has been stifling for the past hours but his anxiety-ridden gut got the best of him so he chose to stay quiet while fiddling with the poster of his favorite show. A strong gust of wind then blew from the opened windows, making his posters fly around the room.

Caelum looked up from putting a card on one column and immediately stood up to help the boy struggling with closing the window. “Oh, no,” he murmured when he saw the mess. With occasional glances, he planted his hands on one side of the sliding window and pushed. He didn’t miss how Altair looked at him with a weird face. The longer-haired boy didn’t care as he pushed the window, stopping the howls of the wind. Feeling the stares drilled at the side of his head, Caelum met Altair’s stare with a small half-smile before nodding towards the posters scattered over the floor. “Need help with that?” A nod was all Caelum needed to pick up the posters with Altair, a comforting silence blanketing the two boys. In the midst of their tidying up, he noticed a stuffed toy lying on top of some newspaper clippings. Thinking that Altair will act rashly again, he hesitated, “Oh, here’s your…”

Altair turned to the other boy, breathing a laugh through his nose and taking the stuffed bunny from Caelum. “Snuffles. For having a tough-boy persona, I don’t look like the kind of person who owns a stuffed toy, right?”

“Not at all, I think it’s pretty normal.” Smiles were shared, with the longer-haired boy fidgeting with his fingers, needing to break the silent atmosphere. “No pictures were ruined, right?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Altair replied with a slight smile, eyes still on the posters. “You were fast enough in helping me with the window.”

“Home has pretty much had this weather most of the month. I guess I developed the reflexes there.”

Altair hummed, looking inquisitively at the wavy-haired boy. “How far is London anyway?”

“Well, from here it’s 3,000 miles, but sometimes it seems much further. How far away is your home?”

“California’s at the other end of the country.” Altair looked at the side and picked up a photo. “Here’s a picture of my house.”

Caelum peered down at the picture and immediately thought it looked, “Amazing.”

“I know, right?” Altair flashed a proud smile. “Dad built it when I was a baby, at least that’s what he said. We got this incredible porch that has a cool view of the tea tree plantation and then there’s this pool in our backyard. Petra, my nanny, will always scold me for staying too long in the water or for walking around the plantation until nighttime. I also have this beautiful horse that Dad gave me for my tenth birthday, she’s amazing, her name’s Nox, by the way.”

“Who’s that?” Caelum pointed at a black-haired man, who only had his back on the photo. The man was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans. Even though he never saw the man in person, there was something about that physique that screams familiarity, very much like how he first met Altair.

The other boy blinked before grinning. “That’s my Dad. He’s like my best friend since nobody wanted to befriend me for being snappy. We kind of did everything together. He didn’t know I was taking his picture or else he would turn around and tell me to take a picture of the house instead. He doesn’t like his picture taken, says he doesn’t like the sound of the cameras or how it exposes him.”

“Why?” Caelum asked curiously with a pinch in his chest. Must be complete to have someone you can call Dad.

Altair shrugged. “Beats me. Every time someone wants to take a picture of him and our teahouse, he would decline. But, the only pictures that he was in were the ones that have my mom in them. That disappeared when I found out about it though.” At the expression on Caelum’s face, the boy tried asking what was wrong, only to be told that the room was getting chilly. As Caelum stood up from the floor and went to his bed, Altair followed suit and opened the trunk at the end of his bed. Taking out something that always cheered him up, he lifted it so that the wavy-haired boy could see it. “Want some Oreos? I know you’ll find this weird but I eat them with peanut butter.” He then took out a jar of peanut butter from his things.

“That is weird.” Caelum saw how Altair’s face slightly dropped, so he continued, “That’s weird because I eat Oreos with peanut butter, too.”

Altair took a seat on Caelum’s bed, a few feet separating the two boys. “Finally someone who appreciates the combination. Dad always told me it’s disgusting even though I’ve seen him eat Oreos with peanut butter a couple of times for his midnight tea.” Opening the box of Oreos, Altair offered one to his newfound friend, to which Caelum took gratefully. “So what’s your dad like? Is he one of those workaholics who always go home late and leaves the house before you wake up? Or is he those types who spoil you with all the time in the world while still keeping up with his job?”

With a small smile, Caelum answered, “I don’t have a father. I mean, I had one once, I suppose, but my parents divorced years ago.” He looked down thoughtfully. “My mother never even mentions him. It’s like he evaporated into thin air or something.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before taking another Oreo from the packaging.

“It’s scary how the way nobody stays together anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m turning twelve on December 24.”

Altair choked, swiveling his head to the boy beside him. “That’s my birthday, too!”

“We have the same birthday,” Caelum trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How weird is that.”

“Extremely,” the short-haired boy answered, looking out the window the next second. “Hey, would you look at that? It finally stopped raining.” Standing up from the bed, he stretched his arms into the air and sighing in satisfaction. “Come on, Cae, let’s get some popsicles from the mess hall. It’s always good to eat something cold in this weather.” He went outside the cabin until he noticed that the door didn’t open after him. Curiously, Altair looked up from the bottom of the stairs, meeting the stare of his perturbed friend. “Hey, are you alright?”

Caelum was fidgeting with his sweater, looking at anywhere except for the boy at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned against the railings before speaking out what was bothering his mind since he saw the picture of Altair’s father, “Al, what’s your mother like?”

Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Altair answered, “She’s not exactly in the picture in our little family. I mean, she and Dad split up when I was a baby or even before that. I never met her and Dad never talks about her every time he’s at the house.” He then remembered the picture he stole from his father’s nightstand after trying to find the photo album with his parents in it. “But I know she’s really, really beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even if it was just a picture I stole from Dad’s nightstand.”

“Do you have that picture right now?”

“Yeah? Hey, I’m getting hungry, let’s get some lunch.”

The wavy-haired boy turned around, leaving Altair outside of the cabin. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?” When he faced the boy following him, he saw how Altair jumped an inch at how quickly he turned around. Holding back a snicker, Caelum continued his theory, “Look, I don’t have a father and you’re also missing your mother. We’ve also never seen our missing parents. You have one picture of your mum and I also have one picture of my dad. Well, at least you have one whole picture, mine’s a pathetic crinkled little thing and ripped down the middle ...” He stopped his rambling when he saw Altair dashing his trunk. “What are you rummaging in your trunk for?”

“This.” Altair pointed at the picture in his hands. “This is the picture of my mom and it’s ripped down the middle, too.”

Caelum also went to his desk, taking out a tin box where he kept all the photos of his family members. He slid out a ripped photograph and went back to his friend’s side. “On the count of three, let’s put it together.”

“One.”

“Two.”

Together they shouted, “Three!”

Like puzzle pieces, the two ripped parts became a whole picture again, like the two boys inside the small cabin as they looked at each other and realized they share more than just their birthdays and love for peanut butter Oreos.

“I have this crazy yet genius idea!”

“I hope this doesn’t concern another dip in the lake.”

“No, this is better.” A crazy glint in Altair’s eyes appeared. “Let’s switch places when we go home.”

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman x reader #modern au #i had fun writing this kannwkw #rorywrites #levi ackerman

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drmmyrs · 4 years ago

Text

The Way I Loved You (Poppy x MC) Part 2

I want to make this a slow burn type of fic so I’ll just be giving crumbs for now 😅 I swear tho there’ll be more plot and action in the later parts.

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Word Count: 1700

Warning: none

"I'm sorry, Ms. Min-Sinclair, we only have one more room available for tonight."

Bea watched as the expression on Poppy's face went from horrified to anger. "Check again, please."

"I'm really sorry, but unfortunately, all our other rooms are already booked since we had several guests come in because of the storm," the receptionist said apologetically.

The look Poppy gave the receptionist must have been pretty damn scary, given that his hand was now visibly shaking.

Poppy's voice was beginning to rise. "Listen to me you–"

Bea clasped her hand around Poppy's wrist and dragged her away from the poor guy before she could make a scene. Kind and sweet Poppy was gone entirely. Instead, standing before her was the self-absorbed, shrieking harpy Bea very much knew and hated.

"Calm down, Poppy. The receptionist was just doing his job."

"Calm down?! There's not a chance in hell that I–"

"You know what? If you want to sleep outside in the storm, go ahead because I certainly won't be stopping you," Bea snapped.

Poppy was seething but didn't say anything else.

"I'll be in our room. Feel free to join me once you actually figure out how to act like an adult."

Without waiting for Poppy's response, Bea made her way to the receptionist to finish the transaction, all the while apologizing for Poppy's behavior. Once she got the key, she went straight to the room.

Bea had hoped there were two beds at least, but the way their luck was going, it only made sense that a single queen-sized bed stood at the center of the room. The room itself was average with bland white walls and a window with a city view that was currently shrouded by heavy rain and mist. It certainly wasn't nearly like her room back in Belvoire, but it wasn't like she had any other choice.

After setting down what little things Bea had brought with her–obviously not expecting to spend the night there, and definitely not with Poppy–Bea collapsed on the bed, exhausted. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Poppy walked in, evidently calmer than before. She stood near the doorway, scanning the entire room with a frown. Bea fully expected her to complain about, well, everything, but she just trodded to the side of the bed and glared at her.

"Move."

Bea moved obediently to the other side of the bed, too exhausted to argue. Poppy gracefully slid into bed and took her phone out.

"Stay at your side of the bed, and don't talk to me."

Bea frowned. "I didn't even–"

Poppy scowled at Bea, and Bea made the gesture of zipping her lips. The only sound that followed was the heavy downpour of rain that reverberated across the room. After an hour, Bea got up from bed and started to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Poppy called out, almost sounding... worried.

Bea raised her eyebrow. "I'll come back if that's what you're worried about."

Poppy rolled her eyes, but Bea could see a slight flush on her cheeks. "As if. Get lost in the storm for all I care."

Bea laughed. "I'm just gonna check out the boutique I saw near the lobby. Don't really wanna sleep in these clothes." Bea hesitated. "Do you... want to come with?"

Without answering, Poppy rose from the bed and strode out of the room. Bea followed soon after, and for someone so short, Poppy sure walked incredibly fast that Bea had a hard time keeping up with her.

"Do you even know where it is?" Bea asked.

Probably realizing she didn't, Poppy slowed down until they were walking alongside each other. When they reached the boutique, Poppy immediately frowned in disgust at the clothing selection.

"Ugh, what even is this?" Poppy remarked, looking at a shirt with an unflattering shade of pink.

"Are you saying you can't pull that off?" Bea challenged.

"No, I'm saying that I have standards. Obviously, something you know nothing about." Poppy made her way through the selection, sneering all the while. "I'm not wearing these."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Get off your high horse. If you want to sleep in your sweaty clothes, at least do me a favor and not, like, sleep next to me."

Poppy let out a scornful laugh. "Oh sweety, I'll still smell better than whatever pigsty your perfume came from. But maybe... I'll just wear nothing then."

Despite herself, an image of Poppy naked sprung to Bea's head, sending heat all over her body. She slightly faced away from Poppy.

Noticing Bea's sudden silence, Poppy curiously looked at her. "My, my, Farmsville, don't tell me you're already imagining me naked," Poppy said with a smirk.

Mustering her most dismissive tone, Bea said, "Please, you're not even that hot." A blatant lie, of course. Poppy is a lot of things, and 'hot' is definitely one of those. Thankfully, Poppy moved on after seeing a dress that, Bea agreed, 'should be burned.'

After a painstakingly long search, Poppy was finally able to find something 'tolerable.' They made their purchases and went back to their room. When they arrived, Poppy was the first to get in the shower, and when she came out, she was wearing a tight-fitting tank top and bike shorts that hugged and accentuated all her curves. The room suddenly got so much hotter as Bea tried her absolute best not to stare at her, and even so, she knew it was a losing battle which is why she jumped to the shower the first chance she got. After showering, Bea realized that in her hurry, she forgot to take her clothes with her. She wrapped a towel and walked out to the bedroom to get her clothes. When her back was turned to Poppy, Bea glanced at a mirror nearby and was surprised to see Poppy staring at her with her mouth parted slightly. But when she casually turned around, Poppy had already averted her gaze.

Later that night, the storm got worse as thunders started to rumble outside. At first, Bea thought it was just a trick of the light, but after a few more claps of thunder, she could see Poppy flinch at every roar with her eyes clenched shut.

Is Poppy... actually scared of thunderstorms?

As if to answer her question, Poppy started to heave heavily, with traces of sweat forming on her forehead. And as much as Bea despised Poppy–or at least that's what she kept telling herself–she actually felt sorry for her. And against her better judgment, Bea reluctantly placed her hand over Poppy's and gave it a soft squeeze. Poppy tensed for a moment at the gesture before she relaxed and gripped Bea's hand tighter. In response, Bea started tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand, and they fell asleep through the thunderstorm, hand-in-hand.

When Bea woke up, most of the storm had already passed, with light to moderate rain falling intermittently. She scanned the room and saw Poppy eating at the desk.

"Your food's getting cold," Poppy said without looking at her.

"You... got me food?"

"I figured since we didn't have dinner yesterday." Poppy turned to face Bea. "Why do you sound so surprised."

Bea furrowed her brows. "Because that's actually nice. And as far as I'm concerned, you're not."

"Well, I don't particularly care about you. And trust me, no one will be happier than me with you gone. But, unfortunately, I do have to keep you alive at least until after the party. Grades and all."

Bea got up and went to the desk to get her food. Poppy got her an English-style breakfast while she was eating... a teensy salad.

Poppy saw Bea looking at her food. "Did you also want a salad?"

"Uh, no. It just doesn't look... filling."

"It's not. But it's not like I have a choice. Their vegetarian selection is awful."

And just when Bea thought Poppy couldn't surprise her anymore.

"Wait, you're... vegetarian?" Bea asked in undisguised surprise.

"Yes." Poppy narrowed her eyes at Bea. "You know, you have to stop assuming you know everything about me. In fact, you know nothing about me."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

Bea went back to bed and started to eat her food, her mind going back to the foster home, how Poppy's entire personality changed around the people there. Before, Bea was so convinced that she had Poppy pegged, just a basic bitch who thought too highly of herself with no regard for others at all. But Poppy was right; Bea barely knew her... and she wanted to know more.

"Why?" Bea turned to face Poppy. "Why are you a vegetarian, I mean. If you don't mind me asking."

Poppy made an annoyed expression. "I do mind, actually."

A grin spread on Bea's face. "Oh my god, you totally care about the animals."

When Poppy didn't respond, Bea continued. "First kids and now animals? My, my, Poppy, what will people say if they knew that their favorite she-devil is actually a big softie."

Poppy stopped eating and turned to give Bea a menacing glare. "If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

After they finished eating, Bea and Poppy started planning for the party the next day. So naturally, more than a few shouts, insults, and curses were thrown around until they finally, finally, agreed on all the details. Since Poppy was the one with all the connections, she had to call for all the services needed. And when her trusty photographer told her he wasn't available, Poppy cursed in frustration.

"The party, it's not just about your GPA, is it. This is really important to you."

Poppy didn't answer and instead went back to make a few more phone calls.

When everything was settled, the storm had fully passed, and it was already safe to drive home. So imagine Bea's surprise when Poppy said that they were staying there for another night.

"I thought you hated this place."

"I do. But I'm not going to drive an hour home just to go back early tomorrow. Besides, we'll get things done much faster if we stay here."

Bea smiled. "Would you like some champagne?"

#poppy #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b #choices #playchoices #play choices #my work #my fanfics #my writing

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

Text

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

#genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact #exile.flower #sojourner special #genshin impact venti #gender neutral #this one is weird #very short #big oof #ACCIDENTALLY POSTED AGAIN

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baekhvuns · 3 years ago

Note

Adding something to the SFW vs NSFW fics as well as longer and shorter ones. It's not a secret sex sells and it's exactly the same in the written world, so unfortunately no matter how hard you try smut fics will usually get more interaction. I'm someone who likes a good balance, because pure smut very rarely caters to my preferences, but if there's an interesting plot involved I don't mind it as much.

It all depends on my mood tbh, but I also noticed most SFW fluffy or angsty stories are pretty short, just blurbs or headcanons. I personally prefer longer fics, even if just oneshots I like when they're at least 20k (thank you tumblr user baekhvuns for your service btw). Shorter fics often feel rushed and unfinished to me (no shade, because I read a few great ones, but I usually feel a bit unsatisfied cause the potential for a longer fic is often there). The way fics are written matters as well I can easily get turned on/off by authors' wording especially during smut scenes, but also as someone on the aro spectrum I don't always enjoy the romance bits, sometimes it's too cringe for me to take, so there's that.

Sorry it's so long haha, but that's my personal take and from my experience I know many people feel the same. It's just easier to engage people with a longer and more balanced story (smut-fluff-angst) though it's much harder to write. In the end you can never satisfy everyone, so if you truly enjoy writing don't get discouraged, there are people who still wanna read your stories and that's what matters.

oh i love the way you worded your opinion and agree with everything in it!! 💓✨🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼

“It's not a secret sex sells and it's exactly the same in the written world, so unfortunately no matter how hard you try smut fics will usually get more interaction.”

(borrowing the format from miss kanaiii) that is so very true, it’s so unfortunate because, because of this many writers who prefer writing fluff get forced/turned into the mindset of “if i write smut ill get more success or notes” and i see it quite often but i think as much as interaction they get, it doesn’t satisfy their own expectations ifykwim

;;;; like don’t fall under peer pressure into writing smuts just bc u wanna be a ‘big blog’, sometimes quality over quantity of smut is vvvvv good!! so many ppl appreciate those big long fics that feel like an escape after a tiring day or a piece of cake that’s still saved !!!

“I'm someone who likes a good balance, because pure smut very rarely caters to my preferences, but if there's an interesting plot involved I don't mind it as much.”

HEY ME TOO!! i prefer reading fics that are a mix of all of like fluff angst smut, because that way the smut actually hits you and you actually enjoy rather than it being like an odd on out. i absolutely 100% agree with this bestie u took the words out my mouth and worded them so smartly ily

“most SFW fluffy or angsty stories are pretty short, just blurbs or headcanons.”

“even if just oneshots I like when they're at least 20k (thank you tumblr user baekhvuns for your service btw).”

yeah def def,,,, im sure everyone notices that how there’s a lack of good long, nicely written angst that ends in a sad ending. that in its own sense would break me entirely, i usually see reactions as fluff and angst ones but i don’t quite often (tho there r some) see full blown like 10k+ fics with those types of themes in it.

BFMWHDMWBDMWHDKS <333 i feel like i have written fics so long ppl can read it in 15mins bc they’re so use to it,, next fic 80k 😭😭😭😭😭 jkjk coincidentally was just writing my fic too !! thank u bestie i will keep doing the same!!

“Shorter fics often feel rushed and unfinished to me (no shade, because I read a few great ones, but I usually feel a bit unsatisfied cause the potential for a longer fic is often there).”

THIS. THIS. THIS. it’s so true omg there’s so so so many fics that could be converted into much longer ones and it’ll just be chef mf kisses !!! i absolutely understand the frustration you must feel when you read a fic and it ends ?????? and u feel so empty bc there could’ve been SO SO much but then again what can we do 😭😭😭😭 daydream about possible endings me thinks

“The way fics are written matters as well I can easily get turned on/off by authors' wording especially during smut scenes,”

i- yes, there’s quite a lot of pet peeves for me that happens when i read certain fics. which is not bad but for me, personally, i cannot read it. agree 100% with the smut thing bc i skip over the smut if ik it’s not well written or it’s not needed or it’s very cringe to read fbwnfbwmdbwm + the romance part yeah when it’s not written nicely (also not shaming no one for their writing skills or anything, just a personal preference!!! no intention of harm or anything) i kind take a leave. it’s the “daddy fuck me” “slut, my slut” im RUNNING SO FAST U THINK FLASH IS SLOW

and no bae please don’t apologize <3 thank you, i loved hearing your take (u so smart bestie the way u wrote it ✨) and seeing how quite a lot of ppl feel the same,, it’s not easy to say certain stuff like this bc ppl take it differently fbwmfnwm,, and yeah, you can’t please anyone, so take the chance and please yourself with the works you wrote !!!

and anon

#✉️ : ask #u so smart bestie

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blakescoven · 5 years ago

Text

Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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xxbyimm · 5 years ago

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The beauty and the beast - Kíli x reader

Alright! Here’s my next oneshot! This is a request for my dearest friend @soradragon, who asked me to do a Kíli x reader story! Because the piece escalated into many more words than I anticipated (naturally...), I have decided to cut this story into three parts, which all will consist of 1000-2000 words.

Without further ado, here’s my first ever Kíli fic. I hope I got him right and you enjoy this story!

The beauty and the beast - Part I

Summary: The reader is a skilled fighter, using dual swords. She carries a small lizard with her, called Hedera. When she joins the company, Kíli immediately takes a liking to her.

Tags: @theincaprincess @fizzyxcustard, @deepestfirefun, @legolaslovely, @yes-captainstark, @burningcoffeetimetravel, @peneigh-dzredfohl Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

Warnings: Kíli being smooth as fuck, but other than that not really.

♦

In hindsight, you should have known Kíli had a crush on you the moment he laid his eyes on you. Everyone knew, even Thorin and Balin, who usually were oblivious (or just too busy) to notice such frivolities, couldn’t stop dropping subtle hints your way. But you were… well. Too you. You had been on your own for most of your life (save for Hedera), and had experienced kindness (or love, for that matter) sparingly. And although nothing had stopped you from being a kind, lighthearted person, you were somewhat awkward when it came to interacting with others. The unwritten rules of society often puzzled you and that was the reason you preferred to stay on your own.

But then you met the company of Thorin Oakenshield and everything changed…

♦

‘I don’t understand!’ Hedera puffed. He was sitting on your shoulder, his long, pointed tail embracing you. ‘Why did we have to leave so soon? It was a great inn!’ ‘It was, until you decided it was a great idea to BITE the owner!’ you berated your companion. ‘He was taking away your plate!’ the green water dragon objected. ‘I was helping you!’ ‘He’s the landlord, that’s his job.’ You groaned, but you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Hedera eyeing a dragonfly zooming around the two of you. Winning arguments was easy when you had a friend whose instincts were ready to take over at any given moment. ‘Hold still!’ Hedera squeaked. ‘I see lunch nearing!’ ‘You’re gross.’ You told him as you watched him successfully catching the poor creature with his tongue and eating it with taste. ‘Seriously Hedera, what’s wrong with a richly filled stew?’ The lizard shuddered. ‘Seriously Y/N… how can you eat anything that comes from a boiling pot?’ ‘Yeah yeah…’ you murmured while eyeing your friend swallowing uncomfortably. ‘You like your lunch nice and crunchy. Need some water? Got a very much alive dragonfly down your throat?’ ‘I’m fine.’ Hedera closed his eyes. You grinned and petted the green scales on his cheek.

You had picked up Hedera from a farmer when he was just a little baby. This guy had found a large egg on his lands and when he had taken it home to figure what to do with it, the egg cracked. Naturally, the whole household had panicked when they witnessed this tiny and slimy creature covered in green scales crawling out of the shell.

Hedera was lucky that you had been staying the night with these people, because when you heard the commotion, you had decided to take a look. After one look at those emerald green eyes, you couldn’t just let someone kill the little defenseless baby. You had taken him up in your arms and asked the family kindly to calm down. There was no need to kill a little lizard.

‘IT’S A FIRE DRAGON!’ The farmer had yelled at you, heaving his shovel up in the air. ‘PUT IT DOWN AND LET ME KILL IT BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!’ ‘Not a chance.’ You had growled. ‘This is an innocent green water dragon. If you want it, you have to come through me.’

Needless to say, saving Hedera had cost you your sleeping accommodation for the night, but to this day you were still glad you had saved the lizard from an untimely death. That night, as you tried to get some rest in the middle of the woods, you had called your little companion Hedera, after the Ivy that grew in your parents’ garden.

‘Why’d you stop?!’ Hedera suddenly complained, opening an eye. ‘Ssh.’ You hissed, prickling your ears. ‘There’s someone out there.’ The green water dragon shrugged. ‘So? Were near the shire, what could happen? A vicious hobbit attacking us?’ ‘You do know that lizards usually don’t talk, remember?’ you whispered, vividly recalling what happened the last time others were around and Hedera unexpectedly had opened his mouth to voice his opinion.

He had made a point then, though. Still, you weren’t sure if the effect of your talking green water dragon on others was hilarious or hazardous.

‘Oh, that.’ He noted. ‘Well, I was drowsy anyway with all our walking. Good luck if someone tries to kill us.’ ‘Hedera?!’ you complained. ‘You’re just gonna let us get killed because you’re mad at me?’ But Hedera already had disappeared behind you, crawling in the space between the collar of your tunic and your neck. His tiny claws tickled and you laughed. Although he refused to admit it, Hedera felt safe when he was close to you and it was the only place he slept soundly.

The leaves around you shuffled and you backed away, drawing both of your swords. As far as you knew, the shire never had harbored anything frightening or deadly, but yet one couldn’t be too sure…

‘Oi! It’s a girl!’ A cheerful voice rose from the dense foliage. ‘Nothing scary!’ You frowned. Nothing scary? Who was so bold to make such assumptions with one quick look? ‘Aye.’ A second, more husky voice joined the first one. ‘But still… is she friend or foe?’ ‘Dunno,’ The first male said, a little louder now. ‘Let’s just ask!’

Just ask?! Your grip on your swords tightened a little. Their voices sounded friendly and normally you’d say that these people had to be of the Shire folk, but the slightly rough undertone was unusual for halflings. Besides, as a certain grey wizard once had told you: hobbits usually were remarkably light on their feet. And this pair, or rather whole lot by the sounds of it, was not quiet. If it wasn’t a hobbit that was nearing you, you had no idea who was.

You didn’t have to wait for too long, as two dwarves barged through the vegetation. They wore thick travel coats and both were heavily armed. One of them had light, golden locks, some of which were bound together in thick braids. Piercing blue eyes were watching you curiously, but in a friendly manner. He had a carefully trimmed beard, adorned with a mustache braid on either side. The other dwarf had brown manes that seemed to roam freely around his shoulders, but you suspected a clasp on the back of his head was keeping most of it in place. He had dark eyes, in a shade of the deepest brown you’ve ever seen. There was a mischievous sparkle in them which took your breath away. He seemed like a guy who always looked on the bright side of life, someone who enjoyed living fully. And instead of a full-blown beard, this dwarf kept his facial hair modest with a light stubble. Your stomach fluttered.

‘Good afternoon, beauty.’ The dark-haired dwarf said with a lazy smile. ‘Where’s a pretty lass like yourself going?’ You narrowed your eyes to show him you didn’t believe a word he said, but your mouth curved in a stupid grin anyway. He was too handsome and he probably knew that. Plus, the fact he had called you pretty wasn’t helping at all.

‘I could ask you the same question…’ you blushed. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘There’s a smart girl, brother.’ The blonde dwarf remarked. ‘Well, it was worth a try…’ the dark one smirked as he walked closer to you. ‘We mean no harm. We’re just an innocent pair of travelers.’ ‘With these heavy armory?’ you questioned while taking a step back. ‘I wouldn’t call you gents innocent.’

‘Fair point, again.’ The dwarf gave in and held up his hands. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Kíli, son of Durin’s Folk from the Blue Mountains. And this is my brother Fíli.’ The golden brother nodded. ‘We’re meeting someone in the Shire, that’s all.’

Since you were fairly familiar with the Shire and its’ inhabitants, you felt obliged to ask. ‘Who? And to do what?’ ‘No idea who.’ Kíli admitted with a laugh. ‘We were instructed to come here by my uncle, who if I’m right was told the same by Gandalf.’

‘Gandalf.’ You repeated and you relaxed a little. If Gandalf the Grey believed these dwarves of Durin’s Folk were to be trusted, you were inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt.

‘Kíli.’ His brother warned. ‘We’re not supposed to talk about this.’ ‘What?’ Kíli shrugged. ‘It’s not like she’s going to tell anyone, will you… ehh-?’ ‘Y/N.’ you said. ‘Y/N.’ the dwarf echoed slowly. The sound of your name rolled over his tongue and chills ran up your spine. You put your swords in the sheaths on your back and gestured towards the dagger Fíli was holding. ‘Those are nice blades you got there.’ ‘Forged them myself.’ Fíli told you and carefully tossed one your way. You caught it with ease without hurting yourself and the brothers shared an approving glance. ‘You seem to know your way around weapons.’ Kíli smiled. ‘Where are you heading?’ ‘Nothing special.’ You replied. ‘I just wander around Middle Earth and live off the lands.’ ‘Alone? Don’t you have any kin that look after you?’ Fíli wondered.

The tale of how you lost your family was a long one which you didn’t like to share, let alone with strangers anyway.

‘No, it’s just me.’ You lied. ‘So you live off the lands?’ Kíli said. ‘That’s a nice word for some good old thievery.’ A giggle escaped you. ‘That’s none of your business.’ ‘Aye, but you just might be exactly the person we need…’ Kíli grinned. ‘How so?’ ‘We’re going on a quest, but our company is still one burglar short.’ The dark-haired dwarf explained. ‘Uncle Tho-’ ‘Brother!!’ Fíli hissed. ‘What did I just tell you about-’ ‘Oh, come on!’ Kíli interrupted him. ‘We don’t know if the burglar Gandalf will provide us with is any good! We have to take this chance while it’s still standing before us. You know uncle had his doubts if the wizard could-’

To be fair, roaming around middle earth without a real purpose lately had become a little boring and even lonely. You sometimes caught yourself secretly longing for a place you could belong to, a home. A temporary job might be just what you needed.

‘A quest?’ you mused. ‘To where? Are you going to slay a dragon and win over a ladies’ heart?’ ‘No way! How does she know that?!’ Kíli exclaimed, turning to his sibling. ‘Brother, I don’t know how she found out, but since she already knows of our plans, we should take her with us anyway!’ Fíli just rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. ‘Your brother doesn’t seem to be too keen on my joining.’ You remarked awkwardly. ‘Oh, don’t mind him.’ Kíli winked. ‘My old mate here just tries to be the responsible one, as always.’ ‘You should try it, Kíli, really.’ Fíli muttered. ‘You’re not the one who will have to face the consequences of your stupidity.’ ‘That’s because I’m the dashing one.’ Kíli told him. ‘Uncle Thorin just can’t stay mad for long… I’m just way too cute.’

‘HEY! Prince charming!’ someone shrieked. ‘You think you’re awfully funny, aren’t you?’

Oh, there you had it. Hedera had woken up and when it came to males (from any race, really), he was quite protective of you. He crawled from his hiding place and now was sitting up straight on your shoulder. ‘This is my companion Hedera.’ You introduced him with a sigh.

‘Wow! A talking lizard?’ Kíli sniggered. ‘I mean… it talks?!’ he jumped forward and studied Hedera, who was giving both dwarves the stink eye. ‘It talks, yeah.’ The lizard hissed. ‘You got a problem with me, pal?!’ ‘No, not at all.’ Kíli murmured as he prodded the lizard’s scales. He retracted his hand when Hedera successfully bit him. ‘Ouch!’ ‘Excuse his manners.’ You said. ‘He’s not used to strangers.’ ‘No, I can’t stand outsiders trying to touch me without my explicit consent.’ the lizard growled. ‘Keep your sticky paws off!’ ‘Duly noted.’ Kíli groaned in pain. ‘Damn, you have sharp teeth!’ ‘Don’t make me use them again.’ ‘You look like you’re not from this world, Hedera.’ Fíli said with interest. ‘I’ve never seen an impressive beast like you before.’ ‘I am a green water dragon!’ The lizard told them proudly and shifted on your shoulder. The spikes that run across his spine stood up a little, the green color of his scales reflecting in the soft afternoon light.

Really, even tiny green water dragons had an ego and could be bribed. You shook your head in disbelief.

‘And where did you pick up Y/N?’ Kíli asked. ‘See?!’ Hedera turned to you. ‘These gentlemen clearly have some sense in them, since they don’t automatically assume I’m your pet or whatever.’ ‘I never said you were…’ you countered and both brothers smiled. ‘I like them.’ The lizard decided. ‘We’re going on this quest.’ ‘Do I get a say in this?’ you asked your friend. The lizard shook his tiny head. ‘No.’

‘So, what do you say? Are you coming with us, Y/N?’ Kíli inquired. ‘Well, I-’ you began, but you almost lost your cool when you found him staring at you with these gorgeous puppy eyes. ‘Well, damn it. Are you this charming?’ you murmured. ‘Always.’ Fíli chuckled. ‘And I must warn you… Usually, he gets his way…’

Part II

#kíli #kili #kili x reader #kili x you #prince of durin's folk #the hobbit #fic request #kili being cute #the company of thorin oakenshield

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vintagevalentinex · 5 years ago

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Now

Here it finally is! I’m so excited to present this Sam/Reader fic to you!! My hope is that it will turn some of you into Sam!Girls like me! :)

This fic was inspired by the Fifty Shades of Grey Remix of Crazy in Love by Beyonce. Listen to it here! Definitely give this a listen while you are reading or before!

Anyway, tell me what you think! :)

@icecream-and-winchesters @bovaria @abaddonwithyall @but-deans-back-tho @aprofoundbondwithdean @bkwrm523 @withoutaplease @oriona75 @theerinpage @ohfora67impala @castielspahdehrah @maraisabellegrey @stephizzle94 @kittenofdoomage

Title: Now Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~2630 Pairing: (Sam x Reader) Warnings: Violence, fight scene, unprotected sex, blood, etc.

Why do I continue to hunt with these idiots?

You were breathing heavy; heaving air as you ran through the abandoned warehouse Sam had dragged you to on what he called a “simple job.” You nearly rolled your eyes at the thought, your lungs burning as you spotted a decent place to catch your breath out of sight. You could hear something running towards you, and stopping in its tracks, trying to figure out where you were. You checked your gun, trying not to groan when you realized you only had three bullets left in the magazine. You patted your thigh, feeling the silver knife you had in the hostler. Hello old friend. I guess today was a good day to wear shorts. You silently get up from your crouched position, scanning the room, finally seeing the silhouette of the monster you and Sam were hunting. Where the hell was Sam? Those damn boys always seem to be inconveniently missing when you need them. You took a deep breath and drew your pistol, taking your shot. You heard the monster cry out in pain as you leapt from your hiding spot, knowing that it wasn’t over yet. You looked around the large space, your heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you tried to find the monster. You took two steps forward before you heard it swipe at you from behind. You heard a yelp, and you didn’t realize that it was you that made the noise before you could feel the warm wetness of your own blood making your t shirt cling to your back. You side stepped, narrowly missing a fatal blow as you unloaded the last two bullets into the monster. What the hell was this thing?! Sam said it was a shifter. Why the hell does it have claws?! You dropped your gun, grabbing for the knife on your thigh when you finally got a good look at this thing. Well…it seems like it’s a shifter…but it has…claws…seriously…?!…Where the HELL is Sam!?

“Hey (Y/N)!”

“Hey Sam, how are things?”

“Well…honestly…we could use your help if you’re in the area…”

You sighed into your phone. Can’t wait to hear what this is going to be about.

Sam chuckled nervously into the phone. You could tell that he was probably running a hand through his hair, like he did when he was a little nervous.

“Well here’s the thing. We caught wind of a shifter causing trouble over the state line and we were about to go first thing this morning but Dean woke up with the flu.”

You laughed a little as you heard Dean grumbling in the background about how he wasn’t sick, and sneezing rather loudly.

“Well…I could probably be at the bunker in a few hours. Are you sure this isn’t something too crazy? I just came off of a brutal djinn job.”

You could practically hear him smiling into the phone. “It’s totally a simple job, (Y/N). How bad could one shifter be?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you in a little while.”

There was no question that there was something unspoken between Sam and you. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Dean would needle the both of you constantly whenever you had the occasion of helping the boys on a job. It couldn’t be helped though. Sam was…Sam was probably the best man you’d ever met. He was absolutely selfless and he had proven that time and time again, to the point where it hurt you so much when he thought so little of himself. You loved that he cared about people, genuinely cared. It didn’t matter if he had only known them for a short while; Sam had the kind of compassion that would make missionaries jealous. He was definitely college learned too. He was so smart and well-read and it made you absolutely swoon when he would spout off information as if it weren’t a big deal. You also couldn’t forget the obvious; he was breathtakingly gorgeous. He was ridiculously tall and broad, and could make nearly anyone feel petite. He was so strong and muscled, and his hazel eyes And those dimples. You could go on and on forever about what a catch he was. And you had an inkling that he felt at least fond of you. There was definitely an unresolved tension between the two of you that you wished that you could explore, but the life of a hunter was a tumultuous one.

You could hear the monster stalking you, circling around you. You gripped your knife tightly in your hand, squaring yourself up, getting ready to strike. As the creature lunged at you, you made wide slashing movements, grunting as you twisted your upper body, dodging more attacks from its sharp claws. You continued to slash at the monster, listening to it wail as it bled out all over you. You watched as it stumbled in front of you, wasting no time as you delivered the final blow, watching as the life drained from the monster’s eyes. You studied the creature, walking around it as you wiped the blood on your knife onto the leg of your shorts. You heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching you. You turned quickly, knife at the ready, poised to attack, quickly letting out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just Sam. You put your knife back in its holster, motioning him over to you.

“Well…it looks like it was a shifter. But it seems like it tried to mimic a werewolf. The freaking thing had claws, Sam. Claws! Where were you?”

He looks sheepishly at you, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs.

“I was on the other side of the building, (Y/N). I would have been here sooner if I heard you.”

You shook your head, shrugging. “It’s not a big deal anyway…anymore at least…”

Sam stepped forward, taking in the bloody mess that was your clothing. “Are…are you alright?”

You smiled. “It’s not my blood…well mostly. The damn thing got my back pretty good. Might need some stitches later. You should see the other guy though.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, finding your forgotten gun on the floor, picking it up. When you stood up, Sam was right in front of you. His gaze was more intent, taking in your form.

“I wasn’t telling the truth before, (Y/N). I wasn’t actually on the other side of the building….”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat radiating off of Sam. He wasn’t as bloodied up as you, but he looked like he had a long night of hunting as well.

He bent down, his lips at your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Well…where were you then?”

“I was watching you. Watching you fight. The way you move…you’re so graceful but deliberate. And the way you took the shifter out?…well…”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he closed the distance completely between the both of you, a large hand brushing hair out of your face.

“It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no

You shifted nervously, fidgeting with the gun in your hand.

“Sam…I—“

“Now, (Y/N). I need you right now.”

“W-what…?”

Sam’s hand rested heavily on your shoulder, transferring his heat into your skin.

“I see the way you look at me, (Y/N). I look at you the same way. This has been a long time coming, and we both know it.”

Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no

“But…right here…? Sam, I’m covered in blood and filth!”

“I don’t care. It has to be now. Please, (Y/N).”

You chewed on your lower lip, staring up at him, his eyes clouded and needy. You brought your hands to the base of his neck, pulling him toward you. On your tip toes, you pressed your lips to his, giving him your answer. Sam nearly growled into your mouth, his hands going to your hips, pulling you flush against his body. The both of you were dirty and sweaty but it didn’t matter; all you could feel right now was the delicious sensation of his skin pressed to yours, his lips moving against your own.

Sam wrapped your thighs around his waist, holding you in the air as he walked the both of you to a wall of the warehouse, pressing you against it. You grunted, the deep cuts in your back making contact with the rough wall, but you didn’t care. All you knew right now was that you needed Sam. His mouth went to your neck, attacking it with nips and kisses as he lowered your legs to the ground, his hands making quick work on the button and zipper of your shorts, pushing them down as he ground his jean-clad erection against you.

You got me looking, so crazy my baby I’m not myself lately I’m foolish, I don’t do this I’ve been playing myself, baby I don’t care Baby your love’s got the best of me Your love’s got the best of me Baby your love’s got the best of me Baby you’re making a fool of me You got me sprung and I don’t care who sees Cause baby you got me, you got me, oh you got me, you got me

His hands pinned you to the wall as you bucked against him, your mouth finding any piece of exposed skin on Sam’s body that it could as you moaned against his flesh, his body pressing heavy against you. You groaned loudly, finally breaking free of his clutches as your hands went to his jeans, roughly unbuttoning and unzipping him in the same kind of manner, returning the favor. His hands found yours again, lacing his fingers with yours as he held them tightly, finally pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his larger ones, his free hand freeing his cock from his boxer briefs. He pumped himself a few times, grunting at how eager and ready you were for him as you writhed against him.

“You look so good like this, (Y/N)…pressed against me. I know you feel it…the hunter’s high after a job is over. Do you always get this wet after a kill?”

You couldn’t speak, but you did whine as Sam continued to work you over with his words, a thick muscled thigh pressed in between yours as he growled filth into your ear. Sam sunk to his knees, his face pressed against your tummy as he nuzzled at you, his hands running up and down your inner thighs. His big hazel eyes found yours, sparkling with mischief. In an instant his face was between your legs, nuzzling and lapping at the already wet, swollen flesh, spurred on by the cries spilling from your mouth from above. He growled into your pussy, lifting a leg over his shoulder as his tongue thrust deeply inside of you, his eyes locked on yours as your hands finally laced into his hair, holding him there tightly. You could hear the wet, smacking sounds of his mouth working you over as your vision started to blur. You weren’t sure if it was from blood loss or Sam’s talented tongue, but you weren’t going to question anything right now. You screamed out Sam’s name as you started to cum, your body writhing and trembling as he brought you over the edge, your voice echoing through the empty, abandoned warehouse. He finally pulled away from you, chuckling at your shaky legs, chin shining with your slick, slowly rising up above you again, his cock straining against your stomach, heavily leaking precum. His hands found hips, kneading firmly.

“We’re not done yet.”

Got me looking so crazy right now Your love’s got me looking so crazy right now Got me looking so crazy right now Your touch got me looking so crazy right now (your love)

Sam picked you up by your legs again, pinning you to the wall once more, his cock grinding against your wetness, both of you letting out needy groans. His hands cupping your ass as he pressed just the tip of his cock inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours. He whispered to you in a moment of tenderness.

“I’ve waited a long time for this, (Y/N).”

You smiled, a shaky hand reaching for his hair, bringing him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

“I need you Sam. Now. I need you now!”

He returned your smile, albeit more sleazy as he slammed into you, hilting himself inside.

Hoping you’ll save me right now Your kiss got me hoping you’ll save me right now (your love) Looking so crazy in love Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love Got me looking so crazy right now Your love’s got me looking so crazy right now Got me looking so crazy right now Your touch got me looking so crazy right now

Sam was not gentle. He slammed himself into you over and over again, the sounds of groaning and wet flesh slapping against wet flesh echoed throughout the abandoned warehouse, blood and sweat messing both of your bodies. Sam pulled you off the wall, slamming up into you as you bounced in the air, your arms holding on around the back of his neck, your breasts pressed against his muscled chest as the grunting in your ear became more and more impassioned and intense. Your hands found his back, nails scratching down the muscles as you felt your walls clenching, fluttering around his thick cock as you started to cum again, Sam falling to his knees, still impaled inside of you as you continued to ride out your orgasm. After a few more thrusts he followed you over the edge, spilling inside of you

Got me hoping you’ll save me right now Your kiss got me hoping you’ll save me right now (your love) Looking so crazy in love Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love

You sat there on Sam’s lap, feeling him soften inside of you as you both tried to regain your breath. His hands went to your back, holding you, his eyes going wide when he realized the condition your back was in.

“(Y/N)! This feels like it needs stiches! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

You smiled lazily up at him. “It’s fine. Besides, it was definitely worth it.”

Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no

He rolled his eyes at you, grunting as he pulled himself out of you, helping the both of you stand up. The both of you continued to exchange glances at each other as you made yourselves presentable. He turned you around to properly examine your back, sighing as he saw how deep the wounds actually were.

“I’m going to need to stitch this up when we get back to the motel. And it wouldn’t kill you to wash all this blood off when we get back there.”

Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no

You turned around in his arms, your smile growing as you closed the distance between your bodies, your hand going to cup his already growing bulge.

“Well…I’m definitely going to need help when we get back to the motel.”

“No problem. I’ll give you all the help you need. All night if I have to.”

Your stitches opened up three times that night.

#spn #sam #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester/reader #repost #new blog

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waitineedaname · 5 years ago

Text

Lightning Round, Take Two

kudos to @notedchampagne for inspiring this!!

also on ao3

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“She’ll love you.”

“Love me? Love me?!” Karkat all but shrieked. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Dave, but I don’t exactly make the best impressions! In fact, one might even say I make the worst impressions! We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t end this visit early because she can’t stand being around me because I have the personality of a deep seated pimple!”

“Damn. The kind it hurts to pop?”

“Yes! The kind of pimple that never forms a head and settles on your upper lip so it hurts every time you move your mouth! That’s what my personality is like: persistent, painful, and pus-filled!”

“The three P’s.” Dave mused, and Karkat shot him a scowl. “C’mon man, don’t sell yourself short. You’re like a blackhead at the worst.”

“Don’t pander to me, Strider.” Karkat grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t complain when Dave slung his arm over his shoulders. “I still think this would go much better without me.”

“Nah, dude, trust me, this is the best option. I mean, best case scenario, if I did this by myself, she’d be like ‘omg do u have a bf’ and I’d be like ‘yeah’ because that’s part of what I’m tryna do here, tell folks about us, but then she’d want pictures even though she’s definitely met you, and then I’d have to show her all those cute pictures I took of you when you weren’t looking, and I know you don’t want that.”

“You what?”

“You didn’t hear that.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and leaned a little closer into Dave’s side, eyes tracing the little carapacian homes they were walking by. Dusk was falling, much to his relief; they both had to make compromises when they realized their species operated at different times of day, but he still avoided leaving the hive when the sun was glaring and ready to burn him to a crisp. Dave probably could’ve flown them all the way to Roxy and Calliope’s house, but Karkat hated making him carry him that far (Dave always insisted he wasn’t that heavy, but the strain in his voice never escaped Karkat’s notice), so they were walking the last few blocks. Karkat had a sneaking suspicion Dave was fine with walking because he was trying to delay the inevitable. He was nervous, if the way his fingers were tapping on Karkat’s upper arm or the way he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw said anything. Karkat sighed and unfolded his arms to wrap one around Dave’s waist.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, you know.” He said, surprising Dave into looking down at him.

“What? Who said I’m worried? You’re the one who’s been bitching the whole evening.”

“Because I want to make a good impression on your weird paradox ancestor, shit for brains. I’m saying you don’t need to be worried about coming out to her.” He met Dave’s eyes through his shades, something he’d gotten good at over the sweeps. “Of all fucking people, she’ll be the most fine with it. That’s why you’re telling her first, right?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Dave sighed and looked away. He was better than he used to be, but holding eye contact was still hard for him, “It’s a big deal, you know? I mean, Rose probably figured it out from living in a confined space with us, and Dirk kinda got it out of context clues, but this is a first using the big B-word.”

“She’ll be fine. And if she isn’t, I’ll tear her apart and at least give her a reason to hate your boyfriend besides my shit-awful personality.”

“Aw, babe, I dunno whether to be flattered you’d attack my mom like a feral raccoon or bummed that you’re trashin’ yourself.”

“How about we compromise, and I’ll stop shit-talking myself if you stop stressing yourself out about this.”

“...Deal.”

“Good. Because I think that’s her house.”

“Oh shit.”

The two of them stopped just outside the elaborate building the carapacians had offered Roxy and Calliope back when they’d first arrived in the middle of Earth C society, both of them brimming with anxiety despite their reassurances. Karkat almost thought Dave was going to say this was too much for him and turn around and fly home, but he unwrapped himself from Karkat’s arm and instead held his hand to walk up to the front door and knock.

“Just a sec!” Roxy’s voice rang out from somewhere inside, and a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal her smiling face. “Davey!” She squealed and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Dave, to his credit, adapted quickly and let go of Karkat’s hand to hug her back.

“Sup, Rox.”

Roxy pulled away from Dave to turn towards Karkat, who instinctively took a half step back. She noticed and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you if you don’t wanna. Is a fistbump cool?”

“I don’t know if I would call anything a certain red asshole harangued me with in the early years of our friendship ‘cool’, but it is acceptable.” That made Roxy laugh, and he gave her a light fistbump.

“Karkat, bro, I can’t believe you’re just calling me uncool in front of my mom. What the fuck. What is this betrayal.” Dave shook his head, but he already seemed more relaxed.

“Dave, I dunno how to break this to you, but you’re related to me ‘n Dirk.” Roxy tried to adopt a sympathetic expression despite her grin. “You’ve got dork running through your veins.”

“Goddamn. You’re tellin’ me I’ve got a genetic predisposition for this shit?”

“Yup. It’s chronic. Doctors everywhere’re rushing to write studies on our family to try and isolate the ‘cool-but-really-not-cool’ gene.”

“Let’s hope it’s not replicable in a lab or anything. I’m pretty sure Earth C can only handle four of us.”

“Ohmigod, can you imagine them trying to test it out. Little lab rats wearing shades and writing wizard fic. Holy shit.” Roxy gasped at her own idea, an unbelievably pleased look on her face.

“Oh my dick. Fuck ectobiology, this is the science I want to invest in.”

“Absolutely not.” Karkat interjected. “There’s already enough of you jackasses, I think I’d have an aneurysm if any more blond lunatics were running around.”

“Lol,” Karkat couldn’t believe Roxy just said that out loud, “You’re probably right. Are we gonna keep fucking around about cool mice on the doorstep, or do you guys wanna come in?”

She stepped aside to lead them inside and showed them to the living room. “Callie’s out picking up dinner. I would’ve made something since I invited you guys over for dinner, but living in the water apocalypse did not leave me with many cooking skills.”

“Hey, no shade here.” Dave shrugged, plopping down on the couch with Karkat at his side. “I don’t think I’d be able to work an oven if I tried. We’re a strictly take-out household. Hivehold? I dunno, but we’ve barely touched the kitchen in the week we’ve been here.”

“Excuse you, I made those Hot Pockets yesterday.” Karkat countered sharply.

“Yeah, and they were like 30% cooked, dude. You put them in the microwave for thirty seconds and then panicked.”

“Fuck you, I don’t see you doing much better! In fact, I distinctly remember you eating those frozen pizza pockets like a ravenous barkbeast! It was like you’d been locked in a cave with nothing to eat for half a sweep and my delicious plate of folded sauce treats were the only thing saving you from a miserable, malnourished death!”

“I mean, a Hot Pocket’s a Hot Pocket. I’m not gonna turn one of those fuckers down, who do you think I am.”

“I think you’re a wiggler with no sense of taste.”

“You eat bugs.”

“And you put ranch on your pizza! Bricks and glass houses, Dave!”

“Dude, do trolls even have that expression? Aren’t y’all light sensitive? Why would you have glass houses?”

“Newsflash, dipshit, I’ve lived in close proximity for the majority of the past two sweeps with an overflowing fountain of pop culture references and idioms and an uppity seer that likes to make things as convoluted and difficult to understand as possible. I picked up a few human phrases! Uh, no offense, Roxy.” Karkat added at the mention of Rose.

“None taken! I’m pretty sure she gets that from Dirk anyway.” Roxy waved him off. “Take it back to the ranch on pizza thing tho, do you really do that? Is this some earth delicacy I missed out on?”

“Oh fuck yeah, it rules. You gotta try it some time.” Dave nodded, excited to get someone else to try his food crimes.

“Imma have to take a pass on that.” Roxy said, crinkling her nose.

“Finally, someone with taste!” Karkat exclaimed, and Dave gently hit his shoulder.

“I am slowly workin’ through traditional earth food tho! Or at least as traditional as you can get here. That’s where we’re getting dinner from! There’s this human/troll fusion place that Callie and I like. I dunno how authentic it is, but it tastes good at least!”

“I mean, nothing on Earth C is super authentic, it’s all like human diet slightly to the left, but it’s edible.”

“Better than the garbage we alchemized on the meteor, at least.” Karkat agreed.

“God, the fucking buffalo wings debacle.” Dave and Karkat shuddered in unison. Roxy looked amused.

“You guys spent a lot of time together on the meteor, right? And now you’re living together?” Roxy asked, and they both nodded. She had a look in her eyes that was far too reminiscent of the look Rose got when she was gearing up to psychoanalyze someone, and Karkat was hit with a stroke of panic. “Sooo, I should prob’ly do a lightning round with you too, right? Since you’re important to Dave?”

The pair shared a look and Dave shrugged, appearing nonchalant despite the way he was anxiously picking at a loose string on his jeans. “Uh, I guess?” Karkat said, bracing himself.

“I’ll start easy, I promise!” Roxy drummed her fingers on her lips as if thinking. “Hm… you’ve got ‘cat’ in your name, do you like cats?”

Karkat made a face, thrown off by the question. “I guess? I never had one, but Nepeta was pretty fucking into them, and they seemed… fine. I can respect a meowbeast that just lazes around if it’ll leave me the fuck alone, but Nepeta’s lusus could’ve probably torn me to shreds, so…” He shrugged.

“Was Nepeta a friend from the game?” Roxy backpedaled the moment she saw Karkat’s face fall. “Oh shit, tender subject, sorry.” She worried her lip, looking for another question, then perked up. “Oh! What’s your sign? I know it’s Cancer from earth astrology and stuff, but what’s that mean for trolls?”

Karkat looked down at his chest and grimaced. “Fuck if I know, I don’t actually have a sign. I spent most of my life thinking this stupid thing meant precisely fuck all. I guess it’s a symbol of my ancestor? But I never really learned much about him since the empress always tried to erase his rebellion, and I thought that ancestor shit was highblood bullshit anyway. I guess now I know it’s not, but ugh, I could’ve happily gone my whole wretched life without meeting that douchebag.”

“We met his ancestor in the dream bubbles.” Dave explained. “Or I guess descendent? Since y’all are technically the post-scratch group? I never really understood that part.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he was a pretentious asswipe with his head so far up his nook it’s a wonder he was even audible, but oh god, was he audible alright.”

“Lmao, I kinda wanna meet this guy.” Roxy grinned.

“No you don’t.” Dave and Karkat said in unison, which made her laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it.” The mischievous look was back in her eyes. “Next question! Have you ever had your quadrants filled?”

Karkat almost choked. “What the fuck kind of question is that? That’s none of your fucking business!” He blustered. “My quadrants are private, and it’s my decision if I want to bring them up! Are all humans this fucking nosy or is it just the Lalondes?!”

“It’s just the Lalondes.” Dave said flatly.

“I just thought it’d be fair since I asked Dave that in our lightning round!” Roxy put her hands up in apology, but didn’t look particularly apologetic. “I was curious!”

Karkat was about to continue his rant about people feeling entitled to knowledge about virtual strangers’ quadrants, but the way Dave sat up and cleared his throat gave him pause.

“Actually, Rox,” Dave started, fidgeting a bit, “I never answered that question back on the lilypad.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay!” Roxy brushed him off. “I’m not gonna push you to answer something you’re not comfy with.”

“That’s the thing. I wanna answer you now, if that’s cool.”

“Oh!” Roxy’s eyes widened. “Of course that’s cool! That’s cooler than cool.”

Dave lifted an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “What’s cooler than being cool?”

“Ice cold!” Roxy shouted at the top of her lungs, and the two of them chanted “alright” about a dozen times while Karkat watched them in bewilderment. Humans, he thought. He’d never understand them.

“Okay, but for real tho,” Roxy said once they’d both gotten a handle on their giggles, “You wanted to say something?”

“Yeah.” Dave almost immediately looked anxious again, running his hands over his jeans. “So. You asked if I’d ever kissed anyone or-” He cleared his throat and the rest came out in a mumbled cough, “-been in love.”

Karkat held his breath, eyes flicking between Dave and a very focused Roxy.

“The, um. The answer to both of those questions is… yes? And I know you’re wonderin’ who, that’s like the next logical question, like if you ask someone if they’re hungry and they say yes, your next question is probably gonna be ‘what do you wanna eat’, unless you’re a total dick and just wanted to, I dunno, be aware of someone else’s hunger for your own sick pleasures and leave ‘em waiting like you’re some kinda sick torturer tryin’ to extract information out of a prisoner, like ‘hey are you hungry?’ ‘Yeah, I am, actually. I’ve been hanging from my ankles for a week now and I’d kill for some motherfucking KFC right now.’ ‘Interesting. Go fuck yourself.’ That’s not a very good interrogator, actually, he didn’t even try to get any information out of the guy except for the knowledge that he’s really craving some chicken, which is virtually useless, unless the interrogator is working for KFC’s competitor, like Popeyes out here tryna get the deets on their rival brands. Hey, do you think they’ve got a Popeyes anywhere on Earth C? Maybe we should start one, make a shit ton of money. Really boost the economy.”

“Dave.” Karkat cut him off before he could get too far from the topic, giving him a pointed look. “Were you actually going to say something important or were you going to just talk out of your deflated ass forever?”

“Hey man, you know you love my ass.”

“The point, Dave-!”

“Right right right.” Dave shook his head and took a deep breath before looking at Roxy again, who looked like she was might be putting things together already. “It’s Karkat. The answer to ‘who’, I mean. We’ve, uh. We’ve been dating since the meteor.”

Roxy’s whole face lit up. “Aw, congrats you guys! That’s really sweet!”

“Yeah.” Dave looked over at Karkat and gave him a tiny smile before looking a little apprehensive again. “I’d, uh, appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone though? I mean, the rest of the meteor crew probably knows because we spent… a lot of time together.”

“Most of that was platonic, though. A good two-thirds of it, at least.” Karkat countered.

“True, but they don’t know that. Far as they know, one day we were just two bros hanging out and watching movies and shit, then the next day, Vriska walks in to catch one of those bros taking a snooze on his other bro’s lap and falling off the couch the moment she announces her presence.”

“I’ll give you three fucking guesses which dumbass that was.” Karkat directed that at Roxy, and she snorted.

“Rude.” Dave nudged him. “But yeah, they’ve probably figured it out, but we haven’t officially told anyone. I haven’t even told anyone I’m, you know. Bisexual.”

“Wait, so I’m the first person you’ve told?” Roxy looked a little stunned.

“I- Yeah? I just thought you’d probably be a safe person to go to, especially since we don’t have any weird baggage like I might have with John and Jade, you’re just my alt-mom, which I guess does make things a little weird-”

“It’s a little weird, but it does mean you get a certified mom hug!” She interrupted, standing up.

“A mom hug? Dunno if I know what those are like.” Dave said, smiling a little.

“They’re like this, you big goober.” Roxy pulled him into a tight hug, pulling him down a little so he could put his head on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Davey. That’s a big deal, comin’ out and shit. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“...Thanks mom.” Dave’s voice was a watery mumble against her shoulder, but he seemed to have collected himself by the time they pulled away. Roxy immediately turned her sights on Karkat.

“Your turn! You’re family now, you can’t escape hugs anymore.”

“Ugh, you humans are so fucking tactile.” Karkat grumbled but resigned himself to Roxy’s affectionate squeeze.

“Hey man, don’t act like you’re not cuddly as hell. I have to pry you off of me with a crowbar to go take a piss sometimes. You should see this dude when he gets sleepy, Rox, it’s so fucking cute. Did you know trolls purr? It’s some kinda flushed noise or something and it’s the fucking best.” Dave seemed to already be relaxing now that the thing he’d been dreading was over with.

“That’s private!” Karkat hissed, embarrassed. Dave just grinned at him and sat a little closer when they took a seat again. “Do you want me airing out how you melt like a touch starved candybar left in the sunlight when I suggest you should be the little spoon? Or how you turn into a warbling puddle of Dave when I do this?” He reached over and out his hand on Dave’s knee, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. Casual affection, Dave’s weakness.

“Aw,” Roxy cooed. Dave looked thoroughly embarrassed and made a strangled noise in his throat. Karkat gave him a smug look.

“Shut up.” He grumbled weakly and scooted a little closer so he could press against Karkat’s side and hold his hand.

“So you guys are matesprits?” Roxy asked, and Karkat’s anxiety immediately returned. Dave wasn’t the only one who had coming out to do. Dave squeezed his hand and let Karkat start since this was his thing to discuss.

“Mostly?” He offered weakly, then tried to sound more certain. “We’re kind of pale too.”

“Plus I piss you off in a pitch way sometimes.” Dave added helpfully.

“And the way you kept me from tearing Vriska apart on the meteor was sort of ashen.” Karkat admitted.

“I mean, there wasn’t really much of a chance of you tearing her apart to begin with. Spidertroll could’ve probably kicked any of our asses in her sleep, she’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“My point still stands!”

“So…” Roxy interrupted, guiding them back on topic, “You’re in all quadrants? I didn’t know trolls did that!”

Karkat winced. “They don’t. Usually. It’s extremely frowned upon.”

“Karkat’s had trouble keeping shit in one quadrant.” Dave explained for him. “He’s got a big ol’ heart full of love.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in Paradox Space to come to that conclusion about what my useless fucking pump biscuit is full of, but thanks for the thought.” Karkat rolled his eyes, defaulting to annoyance to avoid the insecurities that always gnawed at him when he thought about his relationship with quadrants. “‘Full of love’ is usually not the first thing people describe me as. More like ‘full of a burning anger’ or ‘a perpetual stream of irritable piss’ or, hell, ‘just undiluted dumbass juice!’ As far as most people are concerned, I’m Karkat ‘useless shitfit’ Vantas, and they’re not fucking wrong!”

“Okay, sure, you might be the grumpiest person in all - what, is this five universes now? I can’t keep track, but that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly a big softy.” Dave rubbed his thumb over Karkat’s knuckles. “I know that best out of probably anyone.”

“If it helps, I don’t think of you as those things!” Roxy added. Karkat gave her a disbelieving look.

“Full offense, we’ve never really ‘hung out.’”

“I mean, no, but I’ve seen you interacting with Dave and John and Kanaya and stuff, and you’ve always seemed to be a caring friend underneath all the yelling.” Roxy shrugged. “It’s nice knowing Dave’s in good hands since I’ve only been part of his family for a couple weeks. Means I don’t have to give you a shovel talk prob’ly!”

“The shovel talk? What the fuck? What does that even mean?” Karkat looked at Dave for an explanation, but he only winced.

“You know, when parents meet their kid’s partner and are like ‘you better not hurt my baby, or I’ll kill you.’ That kind of thing. I’m guessing trolls didn’t do that on Alternia?” Roxy tilted her head, seeming genuinely curious. Karkat’s face contorted as he wrapped his head around that concept.

“Okay, first of all, no we didn’t because we didn’t even have parents and our lusii wouldn’t give two shits about our quadrantmates. Second of all, you better not even think about giving me your ridiculous human ‘shovel talk’! I’ve known Dave far longer than you have, so it really should be me going ‘don’t fucking hurt him,’ but I know I don’t need to because Dave can fucking handle himself! He doesn’t need your bullshit defenses! If I ever hurt him, I trust him to be able to tell me to fuck off out of his life - not that he’d ever need to because I’d rather establish a culling system in the Troll Kingdom and offer myself up as their first sacrifice than hurt Dave!” He took a deep inhale to continue his tirade, but Dave cut him off with a pat to the cheek.

“Yo, dude, shoosh, it’s okay. It’s really not that big of a deal.” It was only after Dave cut off his train of thought that Karkat realized how worked up he was getting, and he shrank back down against Dave’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure Roxy was kidding, anyway.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Roxy nodded quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you were gonna hurt Dave or that he couldn’t take care of himself or anything. That’s hella not my place, and you guys seem very good for each other.”

“Oh. Well. Good.” He sent her a warning glare just to make sure he’d gotten the point across, then forced himself to let some tension out of his shoulders.

“It is really nice knowin’ my family’s in good hands though.” Roxy smiled. “Hell, it’s nice knowin’ I have a family! Oh my god, Dave, do you realize none of us Strilondes are straight? I mean, Rose ‘n Dirk are both gay as hell, and then you and I are bi!”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Dave jolted a little in surprise. “Rox, you’re bi too? Since when?”

“Uh, since always?” Roxy laughed a bit. “I thought that’s why you came to me, because you knew!”

“No! Holy shit, I gotta process this for a second.”

“LMAO.” Roxy said, pronouncing every letter. “Yeah, dude! I mean, can you blame me? Like, dudes are hot as fuck, that’s like self explanatory. I mean, have you seen the Englberts? Eglishes? Whatever their family name is, John and Jake are both total babes, but then there are girls too! I mean, Janey, what a gal, right? And Callie too!”

“Right?” Dave enthused, clearly excited someone understood where he was coming from. “Girls are so fucking good, hot damn, but then? Dudes? Holy shit?”

“Yeah!” Roxy was just about throwing herself out of her chair with her excitement. “I can barely leave the house, it’s just smoochable babes everywhere I turn.”

“I’d say it’s a goddamn plight, but I got the most smoochable right here.” Dave emphasized his point with a kiss to one of Karkat’s horns, making him squawk. Dave laughed a little and turned back to Roxy. “Yo, but rewind back to Callie. Soooo, are y’all two, y’know…”

Roxy looked remarkably like Dave when embarrassed. “Uh…” The sound of the front door opening and Calliope’s greeting voice cut her off. “I’ll get back to you on that!” Dave waggled his eyebrows at her but didn’t push it.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, despite Karkat’s near constant crippling fear of being miserable in every social engagement. The food was good and pretty close to tasting like home, and the conversation was fluid - mostly because Roxy and Dave chattered the entire time like hyperactive squirrels. Karkat tried to be annoyed with their ridiculous stream of consciousness discussions, but he couldn’t help but feel warm watching Dave talk so comfortably with his ecto-mom. And he certainly wasn’t the only person happy with the situation; every time he and Dave started bantering back and forth, he could see Roxy’s delight out of the corner of his eye, and the absolutely lovestruck look on her face whenever Calliope spoke didn’t escape him either.

Eventually, though, they had to head home - though Dave and Karkat had both shifted their sleep schedules to be active in the afternoon and most of the night, the majority of their human friends were still diurnal and needed to go to bed eventually - so after a few more hugs from Roxy, they were sent on their way.

Dave landed them down the street from their hive, and Karkat didn’t complain about having to walk that last distance. The Troll Kingdom was just now starting to wake up, stores and restaurants lighting up, trolls in suits rushing to their early jobs, and young trolls getting ushered off to school. It was so different from Alternia, but Karkat thought he could probably get used to the differences if it meant he didn’t have to worry about getting culled at a single glance at his blood color. Maybe it was too early to tell, but if he let himself feel just the slightest bit optimistic for his future, he had a feeling he could be really happy here. He could live a peaceful, successful life on Earth C, and if the cheerful way Dave was swinging their clasped hands meant anything, he wasn’t the only one feeling hopeful.

“So,” He prompted, leaning into Dave’s shoulder, “I guess that could have been more horrible.”

“Yep.” Dave said, popping the ‘p’. “We’ll have to scrap those emergency plans. Cancel our name changes and facial reconstructions and flights to the other side of Earth C, no need to run away immediately.”

“I don’t know, we might have to keep that shit pencilled in. We still need to tell John.” Karkat reminded him, and Dave groaned.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, never mind, you sure we can’t just fuck off into another universe? Universe D here we come. The D stands for Davekat ‘cause it’ll just be us, babe. It also stands for Dick because, come on, it’s us, of course it does. Also Dinosaurs just ‘cause. Do you think dinosaurs are a universal constant? Like, did dinosaurs exist for you guys? Or- oh shit, do you think they evolved differently? Are trolls just super evolved dinosaurs?”

“Dave,” Karkat gave him a look, “I think I would know if I was a dinosaur.”

“I dunno, dude, maybe we’re all dinosaurs-”

“Okay, I know when to cut that shit off.” Karkat rolled his eyes and let go of his hand to unlock their door. “Seriously, I think… that went okay. Less than horrid.”

“Less than horrid, huh? That’s a big compliment coming from you, are you feeling okay? Are you gettin’ some kinda fluffy feelings from hanging out with Roxy too long, ‘cause like, I get it.”

“Shut up. All I’m saying is this might not have been as much of an ordeal as we thought, this ‘coming out to everyone we know’ thing.”

“Maybe. You might be right.” Dave admitted, following him inside. “But that involved way too many emotions, and I think all my brain’s been used up for the rest of the day for anything that involves more thought than playing Xbox for seven hours straight. You down?”

“Fuck yes.”

#homestuck #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #roxy lalonde #calliope's there for like a second #okay to reblog #my writing #this was fun to write!#i. really like writing karkat he's very fun.#also she/her pronouns are used for roxy bc this is pre-them figuring out their gender #this is epilogue non-compliant household but i do want to keep roxy's journey to figuring out they're nonbinary

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flying-elliska · 5 years ago

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salut ellie! someone once asked you about your writing and you recommended falling in love with language and finding ways of writing you love. i was wondering, what books and/or writing styles are you in love with? it's just so interesting to know what somehow had an impact on the way you're writing bc i honestly adore your style

wow do you remember that ? that is such a flattering question oh my god. well, i’m still working on it. some of my favorites are (i’m very eclectic lmao) :

- His Dark Materials (it’s a fantasy book series ‘for kids’ but it’s actually insanely deep and philosophic) is pretty much the first book series that made me fall in love with stories, and made me want to write. I think I found it when I was 10, and it completely shaped me. It’s so ambitious and clever, it never talks down to the reader, brings up those amazing worlds and philosophical concepts and is still accessible to kids. Most of all it is so committed to atmosphere, to making it vivid, to really make you go through what the characters are. I’m thinking of it and I can remember exactly certain passages in an almost sensory way : the witch Serafina Pekkala describing what it feels like to feel the Aurora Borealis on her bare skin as she is flying through the arctic. The polar bear Iorek giving Lyra frozen moss to help bandage his wounds after a battle. The grilled poppy heads that the Jordan College scholars at Oxford eat during a meeting. The little Gallivespians on their dragonflies and the way the sun reflects off their poisonous spurs. That’s how you make a story stick ; that’s how you can put in deep stuff without ever making it boring. I am so excited they’re making a tv series because that shit deserves some recognition. And I mean the whole plot about the importance of stories, free will, the horror of religious fundamentalism....always relevant. Philip Pullman’s stuff is great in general, I love his Sally Lockhart series, which is more adult and adventure focused, and is a great deal of fun. And of course, the sequel to HDM he’s been putting out recently.

- I spent a lot of my teen years reading either crime novels or historical novels. (When I think of some of the stuff I read when I was 13 I’m like oh my god what were my parents doing lmao some of that was really horrible.) And I think it gave me a good feeling for suspense and setting, and how important tension is. One of my all time faves is Andrea Japp. She is a French writer who does mostly crime, involving complex/monstrous woman characters and a very sensory, poetic approach to language, often involving food, plants and poisons. My favorite by her is the “Season of the Beast”/Agnès de Souarcy chronicles, which is a crime series set in medieval times, with a cool independent lady at its core, crimes in a monastery, and this very gloomy end of times vibe that I love. I also read a lot of Scandi Noir stuff, I love the kind of ...laconic approach to life. And again : vibe. Vibe is so important. And Sherlock Holmes stories. I love the Mary Russell series that take place in that universe and are basically a big Mary Sue self insert guilty pleasure but are just. So much fun.

- I like poetry a lot - not stuff that is too wordy, but something short, sharp and vivid. i think reading poetry is essential to feeding your inner ‘metaphor culture’. I love Mary Oliver. Rimbaud, too, that I read at 17 and rocked my world. One of my underrated faves is Hồ Xuân Hương, a Vietnamese poet from the 18th century who was adept at using nature metaphors to hide both erotic stuff, irreverent jokes, and political criticism, and correspond with all the great scholars of her time under a pseudonym. Badass. Recently I bought ‘Soft Science’ by Franny Choi, which is about cyborgs, having a female body, emotions and politics and it’s absolutely brilliant.

- I love reading fairy tales, too. Currently reading (i always read a lot of books at once lol) Angela Carter’s Book of Fairy Tales, basically fairy tales for grown ups, collected from folklore all over the world, with an amazing kind of gruesome humor and wisdom. Norse mythology is also so damn funny. That one bit with Thor dressing up as a bride or Loki’s shenanigans...amazing. And I like fantasy, I find it very soothing to read for some reason, my fave has to be Robin Hobb and her Realm of the Elderlings series. And Terry Pratchett, especially the series with Death or the Witches. Just brilliant. Neil Gaiman too.

- I tend to be very impatient when it comes to literary fiction, I find a lot of it is self-indulgent, dreary. I’m a genre reader through and through, I need to be amazed. I loved ‘the Elegance of the Hedgehog’ by Muriel Barbery though. Some stuff by Amélie Nothomb, Virginie Despentes occasionally (they’re French writers with a very dark, wry approach to life, tho the first is more polished acid and the second very punk rock). And ‘Special Topics in Calamity Physics’ by Marisha Pessl is pretentious as hell but a lot of fun, if you like dark academia. Salman Rushdie has a way with language that is amazing.

- I read a lot of non-fiction. At the moment : the Cabaret of Plants (about the symbolic/socio historical meaning of plants and how they shaped history) by Richard Mabey and ‘Feminist Fight Club’ by Jessica Bennett. One I absolutely love is ‘the Botany of Desire’ by Michael Pollan in which he traces the history of four plant species (apple, potato, cannabis, tulip) and how they impacted us as much as we impacted them. I was obsessed with plants for most of my life as you can see lol (my mother is a herbalist and I wanted to become a botanist for quite a while.). Also philosophy/anthropology in little bits. I love Tim Ingold. Things about witches. Anything by Rebecca Solnit is incredible.

- I’ve been reading a lot of YA recently, because it’s fun and quick and keeps me reading, and has a lot of good female characters. Big fave recently : Jane Unlimited by Kristin Cashore. It’s about a young bisexual woman who’s grieving and comes to this weird house full of doors, each of which leads to a different path in life, and we follow her through each choice she can potentially make, each of one becomes a different genre of story : creepy ghost story, spy story, sci-fi, cute romance, etc. It’s so innovative and it’s a story that is also bisexual culture at its core. Also I absolutely love love love love love (etc forever) the Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater. What she does with language is just so cool, because she stays simple and efficient but uses her metaphors in such a fulgurant, vivid way. Some of her lines are just. bam! genius. #goals. Also Ronan Lynch is probably THE character that helped me the most with my coming out. He’s one of my forever faves. Of course Harry Potter, lmao, I was of the generation that pretty much grew up with him, the last book came out when I was 17. JK Rowling really should just stop rn. But I learned so much from those, about the importance of making your story feel like home, and having a clear emotional journey. And Harry is such a sarcastic little shit, I love him. And I love a Series of Unfortunate Events too, the darkly funny tone of it, the celebration of knowledge and resilience.

- I think in terms of the classics (I had to read in school lmao), I do like Victor Hugo a lot even though some of his stuff just doesn’t fucking stop. I also like Balzac and his Comédie Humaine, he’s very observant, mean and funny when it comes to people (even though it’s depressing.) Colette is my grandma’s fave writer and she is a rockstar, I love her (also hella bi culture). Jane Austen is great, I read Pride and Prejudice in one night straight, I was so hooked. Love Jane Eyre too. I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac while hopped up on opioid pain killers and that’s probably the only way to appreciate it, but it did mark me.

- But to be completely fucking candid, I probably read the most fanfic nowadays still. Esp since I got to college, I need to unwind when I read, and having characters you already know can be so comforting. Now, of course, there’s a lot of fanfic that is just fluff (nothing wrong with that) but I honestly really believe in the literary value of fanfic. Because some of that shit simply just really slaps and is well written. But also as a genre on its own : you just simply don’t get so much emotional nuance, and depth in most other things. Because these are characters we already know and the writers are not afraid to be self-indulgent and plot is secondary, we see shades of things that we never see anywhere else, we see relationships developping in the small things and wow that shit is breathtaking, bro, sometimes. The art of infinite variation on a theme. Even though a lot of fic writers could use a bit of stricter editing, and do stuff a bit too many unnecessary details in here, so does Victor Hugo soooooooo....

lol i could go on forever. i love book soooo much. uni kinda killed my reading appetite, I used to read several books a week when I was in middle school. hope i can get back there (although maybe not as much bc i have a life now lol.) but thinking about everything i have yet to read makes me sooooo happy. I want to get more into sci-fi, English lit classics. Basically I like stuff that’s witty, dark, political, hedonistic, with dry humor, but a warm heart. Stories that celebrate knowledge, curiosity and human weirdness. And that gets to the point. When I get bored by a book, I put it down, because I just don’t have the time. I also hate writers where you can tell that they think they’re better than other people. Misanthropy is boring. Thank you for this question anon I had a blast

#reading #books #book recs #literature #anon asks

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roseamongroses · 5 years ago

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Antithesis: “the tiniest life boat...full of people I know”

[Specific-Summary]: They should expect growing pains. For not everything to feel right or make sense. That doesn’t mean it’ll always hurt, nor does it mean they can’t have fun along the way. It’s senior year. Everything may be different. It won’t be senior year for long. Everything will be okay.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes,Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing , Self Hate,implied pregnancy talk/inability to become pregnant, adults arguing where the “kid” can hear it, adults drinking,

[Tags/mood:] highschool au, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) Remus “The Duke” Sanders (minor/brief)

(Ao3) (Previously) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)(16) (17) (18) (19)

(20) (21)

Lo:W Lo: Why Lo:Why are babies like this

Rem: you mean disgusting right?

R: stop shading them when they can’t even defend themselves

Remy: AM I WRONG THO

Dm: Yes.

Remy: fuck you Remy: you cannot tell me the wiggling, crying, shitting masses are adorable Remy: it's PROPAGANDA.

Dm: I’m pretty sure you just described yourself drunk

Rem: fuck. you. pretty. boy.

Dm: Aw you think I’m pretty?

R: why can’t you guys be nice to each other :,(

Dm: you told logan to eat ass like ten minutes ago so

Rem:and aren’t you like putting pink glitter on all of virgil’s clothes

R: hey hEY HEY I NEVER CLAIMED TO BE NICE

R: I SAID BE NICE TO E ACH OTHER.

R: anyway how are my favorite twins

L: Terrible. L: Arlo’s crying bc we wouldn’t let her eat a charger

L: Louie is determined to fling himself off of random objects

R: i love them.

Dm: Roman no.

R: roman yes.

L: And my parents are getting the Look again L: I swear to god they’re planning for another

R: ew ew no not that put that back

R: your parents are so sweet i doNT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT

Rem: i will never get overr how Rem: those horny ass hippies made actual old man logan

L: Neither Will I

Dm: Why diI

Something crashed.

The sound splintered the silence of the home and Dmitri stilled. He eyed his partly opened door, not daring to breathe.

He’d been sent to his room for most of the day while his “birthday” preparations were underway. It was mainly for show, but Dr. Montag seemed genuinely excited about the occasion. He’d always seemed excited about “family” things, and Dmitri had gotten to the point where it no longer felt...as threatening.

Sure, he wasn’t going to be calling him dad or uncle anytime--ever, but it was a nicer way of looking at family events then what he was used to. And what was he used to?

“What are you fucking stupid?” his aunt said, her voice booming throughout the house riddled with accusation.

Dmitri felt the rising panic in his throat and he tried to make himself smaller---quieter.

He eyed the open door like the stupid mistake it was.

Following this came softer apologies. Dr. Montag’s voice unclear, but concerned.

That brief moment didn’t last as his aunt lashed out again, “No--No-No! I will not be fucking shushed. This is my house, who do you think you are?” she said.

As if to emphasize her point she got even louder, “ What do you think this is? A game? You think we can play the house and make it work? No, I need commitment, not this---Don’t you dare try to bring that fucking parasite into this.” Dmitri heard stomping down the hall, getting closer, and she hissed, “It has to be perfect--You promised me we would be perfect--”

Her voice dropped, soft whimpers following.

“Patty please, the doctors said--”

“I don’t care what the doctors said, you're just… you’re just trying to make excuses--” She was hiccuping, her voice becoming more strangled, “I doubt you even love me. You said you wanted to keep trying, but now you're scared? What kind of man are you? What would my father think? If you don’t want to get married just say so you poor excuse for a gold digger.”

Silence.

No crying, no screaming, only silence.

Minutes later, he heard the front door close. Minutes after that he heard his aunt’s bedroom door slam.

Minutes later, Dmitri could be more bothered he supposed.

He could be more alarmed at the wave of nothingness he felt draining away at him. But he wasn’t sure what he had to be emotional about. His aunt? Sure he had constant guilt about anything to do with her, but nothing that ever made him feel like something wasn’t clicking.

Like something was just out of reach, so close, but now it was gone.

He went to tend to his plants. He maneuvered around the shattered glass, ignoring the birthday decor that will probably be unceremoniously trashed now that his aunt no longer had a fiance to show off--and no longer had a potential child to boast either.

She would never hear the end of it from his grandfather, he assumes, so in turn, he will never hear the end of it from her.

As he was picking his way through his tools and eyeing the nursery plants, he noticed a flat, wrapped box, knocked off one of the patio tables. It's tag clearly labeled with his name in fancy cursive script.

He glanced back at the house, fingers skimming the edge of the obnoxiously bright wrapping paper and carefully peeling it apart, hoping the creaking sounds weren’t as loud as they sounded in his head.

Inside where a pair of yellow gloves, gardening gloves, and a note.

---

Dear Dmitri,

I know I’ve only been in your life for a short amount of time, but I’m glad your aunt and I have decided to make it work. I’m glad to have met you.

I may not know your situation, I may not know you, but I’m going to trust my gut on this. You’re a sweet, smart kid with a promising future in anything you set your mind to. I hope you trust me enough to help you with exploring that future. I’ve always wanted a family, and I know that your aunt hopes to build one too.

Happy 18th birthday! Let’s hope for 18 more :)

Happy 18th birthe for 18 more :)

birthy! Let’s hope f8

- Lets hope f -

hope

----

Dmitri’s vision blurred, the paper’s ink becoming smudged and he tucked it away, shaking. Tears rolled down his face quickly and the more he tried to stop the more they came.

His throat was tight. He couldn’t breathe---his grip was tight on his shirt as if it would steady him but he couldn’t--he couldn’t---

He fumbled for his phone, the box hitting the ground sometime in between as he sank to the ground, hitting the first number in the contact list.

He needed to hear someone--god anyone. The dial tone felt like an eternity, each ring feeling a hammer to the chest.

Then finally he heard a click.

Then he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. Sure it was deeper, more assured, but at the end of the day, it was still---

“Emile?” Dmitri said, crying even harder.

---

@daflangstlairde

@ace-anx

@cataclysm-al

#Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #roceit #sanders sides #ts sides #ts emile #ts logan #ts remy #antithesis

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obeetlebeetle · 5 years ago

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Uh you know I'm asking you to do all those asks bro

aight bro u kno there’s gonna b equal exchange tho1. if you were to have Hanahaki disease, what flowers would you cough up?

hm. full disclosure i’ve never read any hanahaki fics. is this supposed to reveal something abt me or the person i love? i guess if it means a flower that symbolizes the type of love, red or pink tea roses

2. if someone were to catch Hanahaki disease for you, what flowers would they cough up?

maybe daffodils?

3. if you were any historic trope, what would you be? (i.e., the knight, the town baker, the witch of the forest, etd.)

either the knight pursuing courtly love or the lazy good-for-nothing scribe jkdshds

4. tell us about your ideal battle outfit.

ok well ideally i could use magic so like. a short, hooded cloak over a comfortable tunic and practical trouser. with sturdy boots. you know, just google erk from fire emblem.

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

i would be the god of just counsel, and people would sacrifice things they made to represent the person they wished to reconcile with to me.

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

idk how iconic these are but here goes --

"You do this, you do. You take the things you love and tear them apart or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours."

— Richard Siken

“Because, you see, it is only when one is at the end (of tenderness or of any other force) that one recognizes its inexhaustibleness. The more we give, the more we have left; as soon as we give prodigiously — it flows forth! Let us bleed ourselves—and here we are, a source of life!"

— Marina Tsvetaeva

“ANTIGONE: And also because - Oh, my darling, my darling, forgive me; I’m going to cause you quite a lot of pain.”

— Jean Anouilh

But Sophie and Howl were holding one another’s hands and smiling and smiling, quite unable to stop.”

— Diana Wynne Jones

"He has a longing in him: for death by drowning.And he has a longing in him: not to go down."

— Bertolt Brecht

7. scythe, battle axe, broad sword, spear or trident?

axe babey!!

8. what combination of natural scents would you use as perfume?

hm. the smell of a forest: moss and pine, the ground wet from rain, the smoke from a campfire, the wild roses crawling in vines up the tree-trunks.

9. ancient scrolls or leather-bound books?

books babey!!

10. describe yourself as if you were a storm.

florida summer storms tower on the horizon, tall and purple and moving in fast. the thunder is so loud you can feel in your chest. the rain falls so thick you can’t see down the street, but the lightning is clear in its twisting lines. and it’s over before you know if, just an afternoon of heavy weather leaving sunshine behind.

11. what type of flower (other than a rose) would you offer someone you were trying to court?

this question is oppressing me specifically. probably sunflowers tho

12. honey in milk or cinnamon in tea?

honey in milk babey!!

13. cabin in the woods, apartment in the city or mansion in the suburbs?

cabin in the woods ofc

14. curtains of beads or lace?

lace probably?

15. vocal or instrumental music?

vocal, im a sucker for good lyrics

16. describe your ideal fantasy outfit

...see question #4 jksdfh

17. of all the fantasy races to ever exist, which one would you be?

dwarf!

18. hard candy, fruit preserves or spice cake?

spice cake dude the others Sucks

19. show us an a picture of your ideal crown.

20. tying your hair up using ribbon, yay or nay?

love the idea, never quite got the hang of it.

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

bring on the vamps!

22. tell us, in detail, about a curse a witch would put on you.

hm. hmm. she use daffodils and narcissus flowers, falling stars and ashes, and she would harden my heart. i would be cursed to forever seek out love, but the moment it was returned, i would be repulsed.

23. talking with sylphs or singing with nymphs?

im tone deaf, let’s have a chat

24. mint, rosemary, basil or sage?

mint babey!!

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

o *highkey* stellaluna

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)

my college campus has a cryptid, ive seen it twice and i swear by it. the first time was april of my second year. i was down by the bay with friends, and i saw it running across the grass between us and college hall. it was about the size of a cat, with an elongated face and no tail, tall on its legs, and it ran weird. that’s what caught my attention. have you ever seen a person try to walk or run on all fours? it ran just like that, shuddering unnatural movements, but it was so fast. the second time i saw it was april of the following year, walking back up the promenade from the bay to the dorms. it darted across the promenade about ten feet in front of me, and it turned its head to look at me but i didnt see eyes or a face.

27. would you rather have poison or healing ointment in your traveling pack?

healing ointment babey!!

28. tell us three sayings that you live by.

done!

29. vials or mason jars?

mason jars are just more useful.

30. describe your ideal masquerade ball outfit (mask included).

a three-piece victorian suit, with coat-tails ofc, all in shades of silver and white. i start the night in a full moon mask that rises above my eyes; throughout the night i subtly mark the passing of hours by changing into a half-moon mask, a crescent that curves across my face, and finally a band of darkness speckled with stars to show a moonless night.

31. splashing around in a river with mermaids or flying through the sky with harpies?

o send me to the waves

32. what would you end up in the dungeon for?

being rude to someone w a lot of power and little patience

33. if you were a fairy, what color would your wings be?

blue or green!

34. if you could have any magical item, what would it be?

a crystal ball that imbued me with powers of true divination

35. what song would the bards sing about you when you passed by?

asdkhkjsdf idiot by sure sure, bardic cover i guess

36. would you rather be a pirate or a king/queen?

a king but like. really a prince who doesn’t have to do anything.

37. would you spend more time in the field of flowers, the tavern, the docks or the marketplace?

um. the tavern. i know me.

38. would you have a painting of yourself?

absolutely not.

39. what skill are you famous for?

diplomacy?

40. if you could live any fairy tale, which one would you?

beauty and the beast but im the beast and beauty just shows up w some scooby snax n it’s very chill

41. stained glass windows or fairy lights?

both are *so* good tho :(

#shadiekid

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 6 years ago

Text

gruvia drabble

author’s note: i get inspired by the most insignificant little things and i have no idea where im gonna go w this fic but...... juvia is so BEAUTIFUL omfg n i literally just wanna write a fic ab gray appreciating that. that’s it lmao. enjoy my loves!!!<333

**another note: haha oh ok it turned into something kinda rly different! its fine ig! psa im ab to kinda rant so u can skip this if u want!! if u wanna read this part it might be better to do it after u read the fic???? these arent spoilers its just kinda behind the scenes of ig.. ok so i try to think of gruvia in the most realistic sense possible. i incorporated gray having crushes bc simply, i think its true. i think gray had a crush on erza and lucy. i also think gray didnt fall in love w juvia at first sight lmao. i think it took a lot of time for gray to understand what juvia meant to him. also i find it INFURIATING that gray has never commented on juvias looks lmaooo (to my knowledge). like he said lucy and erza were pretty (at least in the anime) and literally all i want is for gray to acknowledge how fuckin BEAUTIFUL juvia is ongogmgogm. ok ok yes he commented "you're mine" and said "ur body is something i care about" and a whole lot of other romantic things but he has never made a comment solely on juvias looks and ik looks dont matter and im sure its hard for gray to even think ab juvias looks considering all the personality she has but literally all i want is a "ur cute". like thats all i need lmao. my girl needs recognition for being the most beautiful person EVER!! so yeah this fic is me trying to process how gray sees juvia, and even tho he doesnt say it, i can at least tell myself this is his thought process lmaooo. ((he also prolly doesn't say shes cute cus it would be way too embarrassing for him considering he has like actual real feelings for her)) ok ignore me literally typing word vomit lol pls enjoy ilysm. (((this rant is longer than the fucking fic. i cri.))))

Gray always had crushes.

It was normal, but Gray never really reflected on it until now.

First, there was Erza. They were just kids. When she first joined the guild, Gray thought she was weird, but he soon found out she was much more than that. She challenged him. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too. He wanted to figure her out. She had a complexity that he never experienced before, and he was intrigued by it. Soon, the curiosity of the pretty girl with the scarlet hair molded into an admiration. He admired her beauty, her ability, and her heart, and the attraction just fizzled away over time.

Then, there was Lucy. This one was far simpler, and didn't hurt Gray's brain as much to try to comprehend. She was cute. She was quirky. She was a fresh face he saw around the guild. He couldn't deny the instant attraction he felt towards her, and he didn't necessarily try to fight it either. The bond was harmless, and Gray never expected anything to come from it, nor did he try to advance it in any way. She was just Lucy. A friend, a guildmate, and a teammate. While a part of him was inclined to make some sort of move, an even larger part of him didn't feel right about it. That small part that inquired for something more seemed to die out as well, and while he wasn't sure why at first, he was finally starting to realize what it was.

Finally, there's Juvia, who he would hardly ever consider a crush. Honestly, at first, nothing really struck him. She was pretty he supposed, but had an odd look. She had a dull personality. She was nothing special. Just another enemy to take out. That was all until their first fight came to an end. A piece of her did stand out to Gray, and it stuck to him. He wasn't sure why, but it did.

Then, time went on. Juvia's personality completely flourished, and it was like she became a whole new person. While Gray at first saw her mostly as an annoyance, it transformed into something completely foreign to him. He never knew how to place this feeling, and even now he still has trouble comprehending Juvia from time to time. While he wasn't sure how to feel about her, he did always know that she was something special. She was there for him like no one else was. She supported, helped, and loved him more than anyone. He was completely overcome by all of her. He was so overwhelmed by her love, it took him a long time to realize just how much he needed and cherished it. He needed that warmth in his cold, seemingly tragic life. While the people in his past died for him, she lived for him. He only recently realized that in some ways, that was much harder, and it was certainly much more meaningful.

She did have her faults though, as all people do. She was completely neurotic, clingy, emotional, short-tempered, dramatic, and just--well-- a weirdo, but...

he loved her.

He loved her strength, her devotion, her kindness, her optimism towards life, her enthusiasm, her humor (even when she didn't mean to be funny), and well- he just loved everything about her. Even the bits mentioned earlier that seemed not so great. He loved it all.

He had a hard time even calling Juvia a crush, truthfully. The way he felt towards her was far stronger than anything he'd felt for anyone else. Erza and Lucy held a place in his heart at one point, but now, Juvia was the whole thing. She owned every last part of it. It was a feat neither of the former girls possessed, and he didn't think anyone other than Juvia ever could.

And as he sat at a table across from the three women he ever had romantic feelings for in his life: Erza, Lucy, and Juvia, and pondered on these thoughts, he decided not only did Juvia have an amazing soul, she was damn beautiful too.

The strange thing was, Juvia was always pretty. But unlike his former crushes, he never really seemed to take the time to admire Juvia's looks. It was her personality that always stuck out to Gray.

But when he did take the time to sit and just look at her... wow. Erza and Lucy couldn't even hold a candle to her.

It was remarkable, honestly. She was nothing like any girl he had ever seen before. She was totally unique. Her hair was the perfect shade of blue that accompanied her perfect waves, making her mane resemble that of a beautiful ocean that he would absolutely love to get lost in. Her bangs fell perfectly over her hooded eyes that were coated in long lashes, and in them held a deep blue escape that were her eyes. Oh god, her eyes. They could tell you a whole story those damned things. Gray never had to ask her what she was feeling, because her eyes always said it all. Natsu was sitting beside him at the time, and said something that caused Juvia to laugh. Her plump, naturally pouted lips turned into a big beautiful grin in an instant. Gray wasn't sure what Natsu said, but it must've been pretty funny, because she then covered her mouth as she began to laugh even louder, and Gray was wishing she didn't hide behind her petite hands. After the laugh fest was over, she regained her composure and tucked an unruly blue lock behind her ear, and closed her mouth as her lips parted into a content grin, and just that small gesture shamefully drove Gray crazy. She was a masterpiece.

He decided he didn't stop to think about how breathtaking she was so much, because then it would turn into this. It became Gray relishing in every little detail Juvia possessed, and every mannerism she did. He never felt the need to look at a girl like that before, with such interest in detail. The feeling that took over when he really looked at Juvia was far too strong for him to comprehend too often. It was a feeling completely unfamiliar to him until he saw her. While his emotions about her were a lot for him to handle sometimes, he was thankful for it.

He was grateful for every last part of her.

"Gray-sama, are you alright?" She tilted her head ever so slightly, causing the tides of her hair to fall in a new, but beautiful way, and her eyes were filling with harmless concern. She must've finally caught him staring.

"U-uh yeah." He stammered. "I'm good."

"You're sure?" Her eyes began to flood with more worry, and she reached her hand across the table, holding onto his. Her soft, milky skin clashed with his rough feel, but they somehow fit perfectly together. He flinched at first, but instead of throwing a fit for his hatred of PDA, he decided he'd let their hands be. He wanted to take every part of her in right now.

"Yeah." He smirked, and slightly squeezed onto her hand, not caring about Natsu, Lucy, Erza, or anyone seeing them at that moment in time. She was all his. Not only was she his, but she was it. She was really the one.

"I'm just fine."

#doyouevenshipbr0 #gray x juvia #gruvia #juvia x gray #gruvia fanfic #fanfiction #gruvia fanfiction #fanfic #gruvia drabble #fairy tail #juvia #juvia lockser

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