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vennussy · 2 years ago

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Ronance Fic Idea #2: Single Mom Nancy x Soccer Coach To Her Child Robin AU

hi welcome to another episode of its currently 1am and venny is self projecting, in today's episode we have the second part to my ronance ideas yipee!! here's the link to the first part [tw: mentions of torture and murder there] and sit back and relax since this one is more wholesome 🥰

edit: i started this at 2am and finished at 3:30am so pls beware there will be mistakes and i'll reread it tmrw when im not dying. im sorry who has to suffer through this now tho, may the lesbian goddesses be with you

set in a modern-ish time (I'm still not sure when this fic would take place in but definitely not the 80s) with no upsidedown or anything like that, and because of this nancy doesn't end up with jonathan.

nancy and steve were young and experimenting when steve accidentally gets nancy pregnant at 17. nancy's dad doesnt allow her to abort and practically disowns her while karen, the sweet angel she is, helps nancy with little max so she can learn how to take care of a child while still being able to go to school.

at some point steve and nancy breaks up mutually due to the fact they started to fall out of love and that raising max wasn't making their collapsing relationship better. but to this day, steve still stays in hawkins, working multiple jobs to send money to nancy for max's welfare and college. (ik he was an ass in s1 but idc, i want him to be a good dad)

after nancy finishes her college (let's say she doesnt go to emerson but another high level college in indiana), a year later, nancy gets a job and boston where her and max officially move to at the age of 23 for nancy and 6 for max.

HERE COMES THE SELF PROJECTING WOO!!

since nancy was practically away all the time due to her studies, she didnt really got to raise max that well and have a distant relationship with her. after they move to boston, nancy tries to fix her ralationship with max. and though max loves her and understands why she practically wasnt there for half of her life, she just doesn't know her own mother that well anymore, so she distance herself and nancy having a family who are also distant, didnt know what to do.

(i am totally not self projecting my own mother's neglection when i was younger only for her to try harder around my peak teen years and being absolutely successful bcs i love my mom so much and she's still trying her best)

ANYWAYS !! who else to save their relationship than Robin "I Will Love Someone And I Will Show It In Every Way" Buckley!!!

nancy is 31 now and is the chief editor for the popular boston bugle papers (hehe fallout 4 reference), whereas max is 14, starting her first year in highschool. they're relationship is still a bit strained but if not improving little by little until one day max comes home eagerly and tells nancy about a new friend she met in school that asked her to join the soccer team after seeing her kick the ball during her gym class (said friend was jane hopper). nancy was nothing but supportive of the idea and asked her how she could join.

apparently for freshmen newcomers, they have to go to this initiation with a parent or guardian just to get direct permission for their child but if not then a signed form is plausible. ofc nancy chooses the former option wanting to watch her daughter play in a school team for the first time as she was interested in sports like softball, volleyball, basketball and skateboarding but never commiting to it through a school team until now.

SO INITIATION DAY COMES !!!

nancy is sitting along the outside bleachers just people watching and looking at max with jane and all that shit when the presentation comes and the official gym teacher introducing herself. thats when the most beautiful woman comes in looking distressed and interrupts her during her introduction to the parents and children. nancy finds out that the woman was the soccer coach who only part-times as a coach for the school soccer team. robin buckley.

obv robin looked distress bcs her ass woke up late and was almost late to the intiation.

now the pining insues, nancy practically staring at robin the whole intiation and only looking away once in a while to watch her daughter beat the shit out of everyone else in the team along with her new friend like holy shit bro.

during the intiation she meets a nice woman named joyce where nancy can finally be friends with and tells nance that she's actually the mother of max's new friend. and yadda yadda plot plot.

SO thats the most of it now on to the little fun facts of the story !!

max is ginger bcs karen's parents and her are ginger but she dyes her hair blonde so dont be confused

steve is practically besties with nancy now and has the same distant relationship problems with max too, but she still loves him

"mom, why is my second name mayfield?" "bcs you decided that you wanted me to have a miserable time while i was out on the field with your dad and left my stomach. it was may at the time too" "oh-"

nancy has dated people in the past but none of them stayed that long due to nancy's distant personality and max's evil gremlin one

max def got her sarcasm from nance. who else? steve? yeah no.

robin is 28 in the fic and is not the sweet innocent robin we know 🥺 i mean she is still sweet and caring but not so innocent if u know what i mea- *gunshot*

joyce was very sweet at learning that max was a teen pregnancy and even often invites her and nancy for dinner

nancy meets jonathan and they become friends

fun fact will was there for el's intiation bcs he could never miss a soccer game for el as el could never miss any of will's award night for his paintings!!

robin and max get along well through soccer AND their sarcasm towards the boys

nancy is unlabled and doesnt care who she dates as long she likes them and can love max too

nancy teaches max all of about sexuality and gender respectfully thats why max is so open minded

nancy doesnt fall for robin at first sight, she was mostly intrigued and attracted to her but the more they talk the more she fell for her

gonna uni reverse this shit and say nancy fell first but robin fell harder

robin part times as a soccer coach and full time as a barista in a coffee shop

thats how they officially met

robin is new to boston, she only moved a few months ago from france, her parents are american tho

max loves hearing robin's adventures while traveling around europe

robin is very physical and bcs of this, she teaches nancy (indirectly ofc) how to express love through simple gestures and she starts doing this to max

when max was hugged tightly for the first time than what she can remember from nancy, she freezes and nancy thinks she made a mistake before max hugs back

max soon realizes that she loves physical affection

robin calls nancy the sweetest things and tells her that a compliment, even small, to max wont hurt

"hey max?" "yeah?" "good job during the game today, im proud of you" "........*sobs*" "MAX?!"

safe to say max and nancy's relationship started to heal and they often even joke around now, something they almost never do due to nancy's reserve personality and max's distant one

"mom pls tell me you weren't looking at coach buckley's ass today" "okay fine i wont!" "...." "*whispering* i do it everyday-" "MOM PLEASE"

robin then shows nancy the beauty of quality time love language, something nancy lacked with max

anyways thats all for now, i hope yall know i started writing this at 2am and its now 3:39am

I HAD FUN THO!!! this one was a woozy to write but i hope yall enjoyed it, maybe i will write a fic of this since i loved it sm

we'll see 👀👀

#this one's a long one #enjoy tho :)#stranger things #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #nancy x robin #robin x nancy #wlw #fanfics

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whimsicallyreading · 4 years ago

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Dark Roast, No Sugar

“Last night I woke the hell up. I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah.” - Jon Bellion

Masterlist

Chapter Nine-

Aelin showed up to the police department in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. She didn't even bother putting on the new-ish sneakers she owned, opting for the ones with holes because they didn't squeeze her feet. It wasn't the first impression she wanted to give, but you deserve a little forgiveness when making a whole-ass human.

Leaning over the dash of the car, she presses a friendly kiss to the side of Chaol's face. "Thanks for the ride, boys."

His cheeks redden, and Dorian leans as much of his body as he can into the front of the car, "No sugar for me?"

Aelin laughs and kisses his cheek good-naturedly. "Feel less left out now?"

"Much better," the corners of his happy smile dim, his blue eyes dart to the doors of the precinct. "Are you sure you don't want me to call you a lawyer, Aelin?"

Chaol nods his agreement beside him, his hands clenching the steering wheel despite the car being in park. "Do you want me to go inside with you?"

Aelin feels a bubble of warmth blossoming in her chest. Their worried faces and eagerness to help her- it was almost enough to warm an assassin's heart. "Don't worry. They just need me to clarify a few things in my statement. Nothing serious. Paperwork issues."

Dorian and Chaol had shown up right as she was walking out of the front door of The Stag. When they realized she was leaving and offered her a ride... Aelin couldn't say no. Not with how her feet were aching.

It took some more reassuring, but they finally agreed to let her leave their caring grasps.

Fenrys met her at the door with a smile, "Hey, Baby Mama. Looking beautiful."

Aelin is surprised to find she's genuinely happy to see him. She can't help the toothy grin he brings out in her. "I'm well. How are you this morning, Fen?"

Fenrys lights up at the nickname. "I bought us some donuts. We have a hard day of work ahead of us, and I figured we would deserve a treat in advance."

Donuts sounded phenomenal and vastly improved her outlook of the day.

He steers her through the PD, and several heads turn to stare as she passes. Aelin didn't particularly care. Whatever they thought they knew about her, they probably didn't.

When they finally reach Rowan's office, they find him slumped over a laptop at a desk piled high with neatly stacked papers. The room is minimalistic. Only necessary office items were visible—no personal effects, knickknacks, or pictures of any kind adorning the space.

Rowan himself is also in his usual state of neatness, minus the dirt she could see staining the underside of his nails. He must have been gardening this morning.

Aelin doesn't bother with greetings. She grabs a chair opposite him and sits down. The last few days, she'd been feeling more drained and quick to tire. At first, she attributed it to the baby getting larger and demanding more of her body's resources, but now Aelin started to think that she caught a bug galavanting through the night.

Fenrys set a blueberry donut and a cup of hot tea in front of her. Bless him. Aelin mumbles her thanks before stuffing her mouth.

Rowan shuts his laptop with a snap and replaces it with a yellow notepad. "Alright, Aelin. I need a name. Who do you think is doing this?"

"When is Aedion getting released?" She says around a mouthful of glazed blueberry.

Fenrys slumps into an office chair at a tinier desk in the corner of the room. "This afternoon."

"If all goes well at this meeting," Rowan tacks on the thinly veiled warning. "I need a name."

Aelin leans back in her seat and takes a deep breath. There was a strange heaviness in giving his name. As if speaking it would materialize him into existence in front of her. Her goal when she moved to Ornyth was to forget about him and push her old master as far from her mind as she physically could, but she supposed it was naive to think he wouldn't come looking for her.

This wasn't just for her, Aelin reminds herself. Aedion would benefit from this conversation.

"His name is Arobynn Hammel. He's thirty-five, red hair, grey eyes, and an utter asshole." Aelin lays the name of her childhood tormentor out on the table. A bad taste sours her mouth.

Rowan tosses the notepad to Fenrys, who relays what she said to the paper. He looks at her over his desk with an unreadable expression. "What is your relation to Mr. Hammel?"

"Why?" Aelin chuckles as if the stress is trying to escape her with each half-hearted chuckle. "Do you want to know if he's my baby daddy?"

"Yes," Rowan and Fenrys say simultaneously.

Aelin's smile falls, and she scowls at both of them. They didn't know better, but she still felt insulted.

"He isn't, but I suppose he probably would have liked to be. Make sure to underline that," she points at Fenry's pad of paper. "Arobynn raised me. I don't think he was legally a foster parent, but he is who I was given to in the shuffle after the occupation."

Rowan dips his chin. Green eyes focus on her intensely, as if he's trying to absorb and commit her every word to memory. "How old were you when they put you in his care?"

"Eight," Aelin breathes out, a sharp tingling of grief comes with that admission. "I lived with him from the time I was eight until I turned nineteen."

"Why do you suspect him of producing and distributing Synth?" Rowan asks the nail-in-the-coffin question, and Aelin has to bite back old instincts to lie and conceal this information. It makes her feel vulnerable to expose Arobynn.

Vulnerability isn't an emotion she handles well. After all, when you bare your neck to someone, it becomes within their power to cut their throat.

"I've seen where he makes it, and I oversaw some of his high-risk contracts and dealings with the distribution," Fenrys chokes beside her, but he smothers it with a cough. Even Rowan looks a little taken back, eyes narrowing.

"At what age did you start assisting with his-" he struggles to find the words. "-His business practices."

Aelin blinks, "Eight."

This time, neither of them covers their reactions. They both freeze in their seats, an air of disbelief hanging over them. Aelin feels a chill and tugs at the hem of her shirt, wishing the sleeves were longer.

"What?" Rowan is the first to break the tension.

"I was displaced in the occupation," Aelin begins the watered-down version of her sob story. "I was carted into Adarlan and placed in the care of Arobynn Hammel. Within a couple of months, he was already using me as a mule to get orders across Rifthold. He trained me in various skills to carry out larger jobs, along with a few other children."

"There were others?" Rowan looks saddened by that tidbit.

Mentally Aelin wants to laugh.

Of course, he would be upset at the prospect of other good children suffering from such a fate.`Ones who had the potential he thought she lacked.

If only he knew what bastards they all grew up to be, and she by far was not the worst of them.

Fenrys' eyes were gleaming with more pity than Aelin was comfortable with because, unlike Rowan, she knew it was directed towards her. Gratefully he didn't dig too deeply. Instead, Fenrys picked up the next question. "Can you name the others?"

Aelin bites her lip, leg fidgeting under the table. "Tern Fletcher, Archer Flynn, Adam Mulligan, Lysandra Ennar-" she swallows past the lump in her throat. "Samuel Cortland and myself."

"Lysandra was involved?" Rowan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He hasn't looked away, barely blinked, since the questioning began. Aelin feels naked as his eyes seemed to be raking in her every movement.

"Not-" she tries to think of how to phrase it in a way that respects her friend's privacy. "She wasn't involved in the same capacity I was."

"Are the others you know still working with Hammel?" Rowan asks, and Aelin gladly lets them move the conversation away from Lys. She wasn't comfortable digging into her friend's wounds when she wasn't around.

"I suspect Mulligan, Flynn, and Fletcher. They were extremely loyal, and as of the last time I saw them, very active in the business." Aelin fondly remembers the beat down she laid on Archer before their parting words. He sold them out, and she hopes for his sake that they never run into each other again.

Fenrys looks up, "What about Samuel?"

"What?" Aelin flinches, the question taking her back.

"Samuel Cortland," Rowan reiterates. "You named him as one of the employees in Hammel's custody but implied he's no longer active in the business. Where is he then?" He leans forward, and Aelin wishes she could shrink back. "Would he be willing to speak with us?"

"Children." Her voice comes out as gruffer than she intends. "We were kids. Not employees. It wasn't a mutual agreement. None of us could consent to what became of us."

Aelin is surprised by the emotion that makes itself known. She swallows back the tears that want to fall and stuffs her trembling hands under her thighs. The implication any of them had a choice in serving Arobynn was disturbing and utterly wrong.

The taste of skin between her teeth, blood crusting under her nails, and being surrounded in pitch-black darkness consume her. Aelin suddenly feels more ill than she had this morning.

"Of course, Aelin." Fenrys placates. "That's understood. We just need to know where Samuel is. He could be very useful to the investigation."

"Dead," Aelin throws the word out like a dying fish on the table. "He died."

It hurt to say that. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. Sam dying was worse than talking about Arobynn. A million times worse.

Aelin tries to swallow the lead rock in her throat. Arobynn didn't deserve to be known. His legacy was of blood, abuse, and control. It belonged in the sewer alongside his corpse.

Sam, on the other hand, deserved to be known. He abandoned by the system, forgotten by his family, and still chose kindness above all else. Sam's story deserved to be told, and it killed Aelin that it hurt her so much to share it.

"How did he die?" Fenrys prods delicately.

"What?" Aelin asks dumbly, heart accelerating in her chest.

"How did Samuel die? Any details you can give are beneficial. and you agreed to cooperate." Rowan reminds her sternly.

Mala save her, she couldn't go into detail about how she found him. She couldn't. Aelin feels blood rushing up to her head, and the room seems to sway.

"Sam. He liked to be called Sam-" Is all Aelin manages to choke out. "Excuse me."

Pushing herself from the desk, she shakily bolts for the office door. Their complaints are silenced as the glass shuts behind her. Outside, Aelin can feel the trembling beginning in her hands and spreading up her arms.

Sweat beads on her forehead in the oppressive heat of the building, but when she rubs her face, it feels damp and cold to the touch.

Aelin frantically strides down the hall, eyes darting around madly for a bathroom door. Nausea was creeping up her throat, and she really didn't want to throw up in someone's trashcan. She knew she was moving quickly, that someone might see her and become alarmed, but anxiety made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion.

A dainty hand grips her elbow and tugs in gently. "Follow me, dear. I can help you."

Aelin's head is swimming, and she allows the calming voice to steer her back in the other direction. When the person pushes open the bathroom door and Aelin sees the navy blue stalls, she rips her arm away and falls to her knees before the porcelain bowl.

Long, slender fingers pull her hair back from her face and rub her shoulders as Aelin loses her breakfast. "You are okay," the voice consoles—a hand massages up her spine and soothes the aches there.

Aelin's whole body is shuddering now. Her stomach rolls over itself, and the muscles of her diaphragm are quaking with exertion. She doubts she could get to her feet if she tried. A strand of drool hangs from her lips, and Aelin would be humiliated if her head wasn't still reeling.

Gouged eyes. Bent fingers. Blood on her lips.

A wad of paper towels appears and dabs at her cheeks, which Aelin hadn't even realized were wet with tears. She failed to notice that her body was shuddering under the intensity of the sobs coming from her. The woman continues to pat her cheeks and nose. Then to her mortification, it swipes at the spit hanging from her mouth.

Mala end me now, she mentally pleads.

Aelin looks up to find a woman with raven hair and onyx eyes looking at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to overstep. I've been where you are before. Please don't be embarrassed."

Opening her mouth, Aelin makes to apologize, but another crackling sob breaks from her chest instead.

She's just tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling sick. Tired of being unable to even say his name without breaking down.

Arms wrap around Aelin's shoulders and tug her into an embrace. She allows her face to burrow into the woman's blazer as the grief racks through her body.

"Oh, sweety. It's going to be alright. I promise whatever is going on right now will work out." Fingers rake through Aelin's hair soothingly. It turns her to jello in the woman's arms. Her presence was just so motherly in a way that Aelin sorely misses.

She holds Aelin tight until she's calm enough to hold a plastic cup of water without dropping it. The woman helps her stand and wipes the mascara smudges off her cheeks with a damp towel. "There you go," she tosses the towel in the trash when she deems Aelin presentable. "Brand new, again."

"Thank you," Aelin breathes out at last. "I don't even know what to say."

"Say nothing," the woman waves her hand. "I've been pregnant before. Hormones. Nausea. It isn't an easy ride, dear. Besides, no one comes to a police station for a good reason." The woman pulls a stick of gum from a purse sitting on the sink and offers it to her. Aelin accepts it gratefully.

"Has anyone told you that stress isn't good for you?" Her kind eyes bore into Aelin worriedly. "You look very pale."

"I've been told. Many times." Aelin rubs her forehead, an ache already forming there. "I just don't have much of a choice."

"What's your name? I'm Maeve." She smiles and extends a hand for Aelin to shake.

Aelin takes the hand, happy that they aren't trembling so badly. "Aelin."

"Do you have any name ideas for the baby?" Maeve's eyes glance down towards the slight swell of her belly a little wistfully.

Names? Aelin periodically forgot that the human growing inside of her would pop into the world and require such a thing. It was a far-off event where she had plenty of time to accommodate for things in her head. In reality, she was halfway through her fourth month.

Time was ticking.

"No. I don't have any ideas yet." Aelin admits.

Maeve pats Aelin's shoulder kindly. "That's just fine. Ignore my curiosity. You have plenty of time if-" she emphasizes, "you take better care of yourself."

There is a knock on the door. "Aelin, are you alright?"

Rowan.

"Yes. I'll be back in a minute," Aelin says through the door.

She waits until his footsteps echo back down the hallway before she makes towards the exit. Eager to leave the bathroom and the memories of her awkward breakdown with it. "Thanks again. Really. I appreciate it."

Aelin truly meant it despite the utter humiliation she felt.

"Let me walk you back to Rowan's office?" Maeve asked. "It's easy to get turned around in this building."

They walked in a comfortable silence back to the office. Maeve's demeanor is so tranquil it surprises Aelin when the demure woman pushes the door open without knocking. "I have a delivery for you boys."

"Chief?" Rowan stands up, confused.

What? Aelin blinks and turns back to the woman, noting the black and whites and the metal badge on the breast of her blazer. The same blazer Aelin had just cried on.

Blood rushed to her face, and her brain curdles in her skull. Of course, it was the law of Orynth whose arms she just broke down in. Adarlan's Assassin reduced to a ball of hormones clinging to the chief detective of Terrasen like a baby clinging to its mother.

"Has she caused trouble?" Rowan's eyes glint with steel.

If you've done anything to degrade me to my boss, the deal is off.

"Not at all. We ran into each other in the bathroom and had a lovely chat," Maeve brushes an invisible piece of dust from Aelin's shoulder. "I will let the three of you get back to business. You are in excellent company."

Aelin's lip quirks. Just the opposite. She loves me. Congratulations, you are already reaping the benefits of my presence.

"Oh, and Fenrys?" Aelin looks at Fenrys, who is actively ignoring them. "The reports you promised are late. Have them to my desk by the end of the day, please."

"Will do, Chief." Fenrys' reply is dry and lacks his usual pep.

Aelin notes the worried glance Rowan throws him, but he swiftly covers it with an expressionless mask. "I will make sure he gets it done."

What was that? Aelin tries to pry an answer from Rowan, but he avoids her look.

When Maeve leaves, the tension eases from the men's shoulders.

"You are trouble," Rowan tosses at her without venom.

Aelin picks up the cup of tea she left at his desk, glad it's still warm. "Yes, but only the best kind."

"We haven't laid out a single plan for weaseling out Arobynn," Fenrys makes an irritated face at them. "If either of you could focus for ten minutes, we can do the rest of the questioning later, but we need to start throwing out ideas."

"Did Rowan piss in your tea in the last ten minutes I was gone?" Aelin shoots back, not appreciating his sudden attitude.

"Thirty," Rowan says. "You were gone for thirty minutes. That's why I came looking for you. Also, ruining beverages is your thing, not mine."

Damn, had she been gone that long? A glance at the clock confirms he was correct.

When she turns back to Rowan, there is almost something like worry in his eyes? That couldn't be right, Aelin rubs that aching side of her head again. She needed to stop reading so deeply into things.

"We can continue with questioning later," Rowan announces. "Fenrys is correct in saying we need to start making plans. You've given us enough to work with for now."

They sat back in their chairs, pulled out more notepads, red pens, and sticky notes. Together, Aelin helped them form a list of potential places Arobynn would be laying low. Hotels, rental homes, and vacant manors. He had a taste for luxury Aelin knew he wouldn't sacrifice for anonymity.

Test results were still running on the Synth. Technicians had let them know it showed highly abnormal properties compared to average street drugs, and they promised to send them an extensive report when they were through.

Rowan had hushed any potential news stories about The Stag shooting. He didn't want anyone who may know Celaena to catch wind and start snooping around. Aelin was his best lead, which afforded her a certain level of discretion he acknowledged.

They didn't know about the Bane patrolling her block at night, keeping their eyes on the streets for unusual activity.

The clock ticked, and the light beaming through the winders grew warmer as the afternoon trickled away. It was nearly five o'clock when Rowan declared then done for the day, and Aelin was utterly exhausted.

"Come on," Fenrys offered her a hand to help her stand. "I can drive you by the prison. Aedion should be getting checked out as we speak."

"Thank you," Aelin accepts the help. Her feet ached, and she felt entirely drained. It was good Fenrys was offering a ride, or she'd have to call Dorian to come and get her.

Together, the three of them made their way to the parking lot. Conversation between them was sparse but not unpleasant. They'd fallen into a rhythm at some point while working together. It helped break up some of the awkwardness between her and Rowan.

Aelin hustled a little bit when she spotted Fenry's luxury car. She wanted to claim the front seat before Rowan did. Her gut couldn't handle the stress of riding the back.

Her fingers barely grazed the polished handle when Fenrys started yelling.

Arms wrapped around her waist, and Aelin's face throbbed as it found itself slammed into the asphalt. A loud explosion rattled her ears, and chunks of debris went flying through the air. A thick foggy smoke started filling the air, and she immediately started choking on it.

A dense weight lifts off her back, and hands grab her shoulders, rolling her body to face the clouded sky instead of the ground. Rowan is in her personal space immediately. He's speaking to her, but no sound is penetrating the ringing in her ears.

His hands are running along her arms, the side of her face, checking for injury. Aelin tries to ask him if he's alright, but he doesn't seem able to hear her either.

Suddenly, Fenrys is there, and he's grabbing them both by the arms. They are moving away at a sprint. Fenrys is yelling, but the smoke is stinging her eyes, and even seeing is becoming hard.

There is another explosion, and Aelin can feel the tremors beneath the soles of her shoes as the three of them hit the ground once more.

People are pouring out of the precinct. Aelin spies Cheif Maeve at the front of them, ordering people out of the building. Red and blue lights reflect off the smoke, and she knows that ambulances must be on their way.

Rowan is lying beside her. She hadn't noticed the rips in the back of his suit jacket at first, but there were long gouges in the material, and smoke wafted off a couple of scorch marks. The fact he'd thrown himself over her body and shielded her from the explosion was only starting to register when something warm squeezed her hand.

Are you okay? Green eyes were scouring her body for wounds.

I'm fine, Aelin assures him. She's more concerned about the spots on the back of his suit growing wet as he bled.

"Someone blew up my car," Fenrys is gaping at the spot where his vintage ride used to be. All that remained was a roughed-up frame that was lit ablaze like a campfire.

"Gods," Aelin breathed out, the ringing in her ears dying down. "I almost died."

Rowan hadn't let go of her hand and made no move to do so as his eyes fixed on the burning car. "That was meant for us."

He didn't have to elaborate for Aelin to understand. Whoever had placed the bomb hadn't been targeting her, but Rowan and Fenrys. They arrived and left work together. The bomb wasn't there when they got to the precinct this morning, so someone must have placed it while they were inside.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Fenrys runs a dirty hand through his hair.

Sirens wailed as paramedics filed into the parking lot. Other detectives and officers were starting to approach them. Firefighters approached the car with extinguishers and began to tame the burning fire.

Aelin didn't have an answer. Just the sinking feeling that the game they'd entered into had more players than she'd thought.

Here is part one of the mass updates! Thank you SO much for reading. I’ve gotten so much feedback and love on this fic it’s been so wonderful 💚

I do have an ✨IMPORTANT QUESTION✨

Would you all prefer I have tag lists specific to certain fics or an overall tag list for ships? So one tag list for all of my rowaelin fics, one for all my quinlar fics, or would you like me to keep it as I have been? Please let me know! ✨

Tag list- Let me know if you would like to be added or removed. :D ( names in bold won’t tag)

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@ladyfireheart-and-buzzard

@wordsxstars

@rowaelinismyotp

@courtofjurdan

@emmiesbook

@killian-me-slowly

@miserablemusings

@aelinchocolatelover

@booksbqueen

@flamingveritas

@tomtenadia

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@loudphantomdragon

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@nish247

@vasudharaghavan

@maybekindasortaace

@mariamuses

@frosted-crackers

@foughtconquered

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jarofstyles · 4 years ago

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Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar.

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something.

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well.

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today.

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades.

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her.

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be?

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.”

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today.

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face.

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?” He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments.

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal.

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted.

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years.

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously.

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did?

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger.

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of.

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live.

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth.

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties.

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment.

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do.

DaddyH. He was new.

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck.

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure.

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace.

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice.

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there.

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case.

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to.

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly.

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter.

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

Text

pain reliever

TW: descriptive talk abt period cramps ig?, talk abt cysts, mutual pining lol

Summary: in which spencer and Y/N love each other but refuse to tell each other. Y/N's having major period pain, the effect of a cyst, and spencer comes over to comfort her.

WC: 3,744

A/N - this one’s a bit of a rollercoaster. it has three different POV’s so just bear with me please!

masterlist

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

don't get me wrong, working at the BAU is amazing and definitely has it's perks, but it also has several downsides too. one of those pesky little downsides includes the amount of time off we have.

meaning we don't have much downtime.

this was one of the rare occasions when we were able to have two weeks off, the result of a very strenuous case.

this time was so exciting, spencer and i planned to go out to a movie he'd been dying to see. nobody else wanted to go with him and were being absolute jerks about it, so i automatically stepped up to go with him.

i went to bed the night before we were supposed to go out after showering. i was actually excited to be able to spend some time with him.

i couldn't help but begin to have feelings for him soon after i joined the team. i mean, who would be able to resist those amazing curls, the sweet smile, kind spirit, not to even mention how smart he is.

he didn't know that, of course. and i planned for him to never know. i was able to keep it a secret for 5 and a half years, and i didn't plan on stopping that streak anytime soon. i didn't want to ruin the friendship i had with him by confessing my undying love for him only to confirm my fears of it being unrequited.

i woke up groaning, the effect of an intense pain on my neck, back, and uterus. I almost immediately knew what that meant, sadly.

i ran to the bathroom, only to find my suspicions confirmed. my period has always been irregular but about a year ago, i started getting terrible cramps when it wasn't anywhere close to the time for my period.

i went to the doctor to find out a cyst had grown on my left ovary so i started taking birth control per my doctor's request. the only thing about the birth control i was on was that it made me sick when i was on the green pill, so i had to stop taking it.

not taking it meant my period was always a surprise. but hey... at least i wasn't pregnant i guess.

when i took the birth control, it also lessened the cramps. not taking it also brought them back. sometimes not even the extra strength mydol was able to subside the terrible cramps that would ripple throughout my body.

those cramps meant that i needed to cancel my plans with spencer. i could only hope he wouldn't take it as me not wanting to spend time with him.

although, i certainly didn't want him to see me like this.

i decided i would take a shower in attempt to wash the dirty feeling off of my body. I could just call him after i got out and tell him i have a bug or something.

i took my time washing myself, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. cysts normally only affect the uterus area and cause discomfort at most times, but it always becomes severely worse during that time of the month.

luckily, my doctors helped create an appointment for a procedure to remove the cyst. the only catch being that the appointment is still 6 months away.

i finished showering and wrapped a towel around my body before popping two mydol's in my mouth and swallowing. i grabbed my cell and quickly dialed spencer's name.

"Y/N! hi. what's up?" he asked sweetly. i could hear the excitement in his voice.

"hey, spence," i started, already feeling terrible for the sad news. "i won't be able to go out today. i really, really wish i could. i came down with something and don't think i'm well enough to go out. i'm so sorry," i murmured, already regretted having to cancel.

"oh... that's okay. are you alright? do you need me to take you to the doctor?" he asked all worried. i giggled softly.

"no, that's alright, spence. thank you though. i think i'm probably just gonna get some house work done in the meantime," i declared with a sigh.

"you're planning on cleaning when you're sick? another reason to never doubt the strength of a woman, i suppose," he quipped, another laugh erupting from my chest, this one being louder.

"that, spencer reid, is why you're my best friend," i said with a smile.

"that and the fact that you actually listen to my incessant babbling and rambles," he remarked.

"i actually happen to enjoy those rambles, doctor. don't sell yourself short," I demanded in a sweet tone.

"thank you, Y/N. you should get some rest. don't overexert yourself," he said sweetly. "in all the years i've known you you've only been sick a number of times, so i would imagine you really don't feel too well," he declared. "goodbye."

"goodbye, spencer. s-sorry again," I stammered out.

I hung up the phone before actually getting dressed in some proper underwear. I threw on some loose shorts and skipped putting a bra on, my boobs were really sore, opting for just throwing a tank top on.

i started with doing the dishes from last night. the medicine was kind of kicking in, not fully taking the stabbing pain away but lessening it enough to where it would be manageable.

once the dishes were done i started doing the laundry, taking breaks in-between loads. during the breaks i made sure to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated.

part of me was debating going to the store to pick up some dark chocolate, ice cream, kale chips, and some chinese, but i decided against it.

i'm sure if i went out i would immediately regret it and have the pain 10x worse, just because that's my luck. so, suffering alone it was.

once i finished all of the laundry, i sat down on the couch. i had been going for about three hours, and definitely felt the toll it was taking on my body.

i turned on FRIENDS and grabbed a heating pad from a bin in my living room. i placed the pad on my upper back and groaned at the heat.

before i knew it, i was dead asleep.

SPENCER'S POV

i didn't buy it.

she never gets sick, and when she does it's like she's dying. she doesn't laugh when she's sick, and her voice wasn't as nasally.

don't get me wrong, something was obviously wrong with her, but she wasn't sick sick. maybe another sick.

what else would cause her to cancel plans with me? she's never done that before.

although, there was one time where she mentioned her needing to go to the doctor for a consult about a cyst. maybe it was the cyst?

wait... her uterus. the cyst was on her uterus.

we were on a case a couple months back, and this unsub was hard to track down. when we managed to figure out where he was, she ended up having to chase him down. she had to run a mile for at least 7 minutes before actually getting him. he was only 25 and was an exercise fanatic.

after catching the guy and bringing him in she had a hard time hiding her discomfort. even at the station, abut an hour later, she was still grabbing her lower stomach in pain. when i asked her what was wrong she told me about the cyst and where it was.

although, the cyst never really affected her energy level since then. she was able to go out on cases and perform perfectly fine.

the only thing that it could've been would be her- ohhh!!

oh...

i should get her something. food. she loves food.

she's probably in a lot of pain right now because of that. she shouldn't have to handle that pain 24/7. she was so sweet, and caring, and generous, and loving, and undeserving of any sort of discomfort.

to be honest, i've had the largest crush on her since after she joined the BAU. who wouldn't?

she's such an amazing person. just being around her lightens my mood. not to mention her beauty. don't get me wrong, i absolutely love her mind and everything about her personality, but the beauty she beholds is beyond anything i've ever encountered. then again, maybe the feelings i have for her boost that beauty in my eyes.

it was that beauty that kept me quiet. why would someone with beauty as ethereal as hers even look at a guy like me? it's like she's not meant for this world. she's too good for this world.

i'm in too deep now to share my feelings. i would do anything to keep her light in my life, even if that meant keeping all my love for her bottled up.

my heart ached at the thought of her in pain that i can't help her subside. the least i could do is be there for her.

i quickly grabbed my keys- yes, that's right. i'm driving for her. what kind of man am i?- and headed out of my apartment.

i went to the grocery store and picked up some of her favorites, dark chocolate, mint chip ice cream, kale chips, and... chinese. she loves chinese, so surely that's what she's craving. if she doesn't want it i would gladly get her whatever it is she does want.

i would give her the entire world if i could.

after picking the items up, i made my way to her place and pulled her key out of my pocket after she didn't answer my knock the first couple times. We had both decided to give each other a copy of our keys for safety purposes, result of me becoming the designated driver after a girl's night out gone wrong.

long story short, all the girls left with someone, leaving Y/N stranded at a heavily populated bar. if the girls weren't drunk when they left then i know i would've scolded them for leaving her in such danger. hell, they were FBI agents and left a friend who wasn't in her right mind alone in the middle of the night.

the only reason i was able to pick her up was because she drunkingly called me, slurring her words together. that's a story for another time.

i held the bags in one hand and the chinese food under my arm while i unlocked the door and quitely walked in. i saw her laying down on the couch, looking so peaceful.

SECOND PERSON

spencer looked at you as you slept. he noticed the heating pad laying on your back as your face was partially smushed from the couch. he'd never seen anything so adorable.

he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gently tapped your shoulders to wake you. you squinted at him in confusion for a second before you finally spoke.

"spencer? wh-what're you doing here?" you questioned him in disbelief.

you had no idea why he was here. you had told him you couldn't go out, right?

"me being the amazing profiler i am figured out what was actually wrong," he gloated. "i brought your favorite snacks and came with chinese food. if you want something else i could always go back out and-"

"did you drive?" you squeaked.

"why wouldn't i? you're in pain right now, that's the least i could do to somehow help you," he gushed.

you felt tears pricking your eyes at his confession. how could someone be so selfless and kind as to put themselves though something they hate doing for you?

"hey-hey, what is it?" he worriedly questioned.

"i-it's just... th-that's so sweet, and nice, and you hate driving, and you're such an amazing person, and i don't deserve you," you sniffled out, the tears flowing past my eyes as you sat up on the couch to give him a place to sit.

He grabbed the heating pad that fell off your back and set it on the coffee table before wiping your tears. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as you lightly cried into his shirt for a few minutes before pulling back.

"sorry about your shirt," you whined.

"don't worry about it. and i truly think it's me who doesn't deserve you, Y/N," he said softly. "now, let's dig into the food. i'm actually hungry right now, i had to smell it the entire way here and it's been taunting me ever since," he said seriously, eliciting another laugh out of you. "oh! there she is! i love hearing your laugh," he smiled.

"oh, you're just saying that," you waved him off as he feigned offense with a loud gasp.

"are you accusing me of lying, Y/N? i'm terribly offended," he shot his hand over his heart in an attempt to mock pain as he groaned.

"i would never, spencie," you taunted with a smirk before getting an actual cramp.

your face contorted slightly in pain as you bent over in an attempt to ease the discomfort. it felt like someone was stabbing your entire lower stomach and punching you all at once. the pain and sudden movement made your head begin to throb intensely, so you didn't know where to put your hands. your stomach or head? you chose stomach.

spencer felt horrible as he watched you go through such pain.

"what hurts, Y/N/N? let me help you," spencer pleaded.

"head. really bad," you groaned.

he got behind you as his hands found your temples and began massaging them gently, being able to subside the pain pulsing in your head. while your stomach still hurt, the pain became bearable again, allowing you to sit up and face spencer. he saw that your eyes were full of tears once again and his arms flew around you.

he hated that you had to go through that... every month too? your pain tolerance has always been high, something spencer learned after you got shot in the thigh and didn't even shed a tear, so he knew the fact that tears were in your eyes had meant the pain had to be terrible.

"food?" he said softly, you nodded eagerly, still being wary of the headache.

he went into your kitchen and put away the ice cream, chocolate, and kale chips before getting the chinese. he grabbed you a water bottle from your fridge before exiting the kitchen and sitting beside you on the couch.

"why didn't you tell me they were this bad?" spencer wondered.

"i didn't want you to worry, or see me like this," you shrugged.

it was true, you hated anyone seeing you hurt or weak. you prided yourself on being tough and strong enough to withstand most things. the fact that a measly monthly period was breaking you hurt your ego more than you'd like to admit.

for spencer, he didn't care. the only thing he wanted to do was make sure you were okay and be there for you when you weren't. he was determined to help you through this time. it made him feel... important. he enjoyed caring for others as it gave him a sense of purpose.

"Y/N, i don't care what state you're in. i always enjoy seeing you. and i'm always here to help you. asking for help makes you stronger than you'd think," he soothed you.

one thing you loved about him was that he always had a way with words. he was able to make you feel safe in the most dangerous situations, calm in the most chaotic, comfortable in the most destitute, and all with words.

you ate your food rather quickly after realizing you hadn't eaten all day. you were unashamed of eating that much, too. you'd become so comfortable with him over the years that you didn't feel embarrassed over something as routine as eating as you normally would with others.

after spencer finished eating he insisted on cleaning up rather than you do it yourself.

and to think, you thought you couldn't fall deeper in love with the man and here you were, falling deeper the longer he stayed.

little did you know that spencer was already madly in love with you.

he came back and sat beside you gently, looking at you with the utmost adoration that you couldn't see since you were back to being doubled over in pain.

"let's get you laid down, hmm?" spencer suggested as he gently rubbed your back.

"mhmm," you agreed, sitting up far too quickly. your back shot out in pain as you tried to straighten out, bringing a groan to your lips and causing you to twist your torso in an attempt to avoid any more hurt. "i guess i can just stay here," you said, resuming the doubled-over position.

spencer wanted to cry himself seeing you so defeated. you were the most strong-willed person he knew and here you were, giving up on something. he wouldn't let that happen.

"you'll be more comfortable in the bed. i'll carry you since you can't get up, okay?" spencer suggested.

you hummed in defeat as he swiftly scooped you up, leaving your body folded up as you swung your arms around his neck. he laid you down on the bed gently as you groaned at your back stretching out.

"turn over on your stomach," spencer ordered.

"wh-what? why?" you wondered.

"you'll see when you do it, ms. stubborn-pants," he teased.

you groaned and flopped onto your stomach, reaching to cuddle the pillow your head was resting on. spencer secretly wished he was that pillow.

his hands fell onto your back, applying light pressure right between your shoulder blades.

"ohh, this is what you were gonna do," you hummed in content as his hands continued to work their magic. he gathered your hair and pulled it to the side as he worked his way up to your neck. "ugh that feels amazing, spence," you groaned.

spencer huffed a laugh at your enthusiasm, him being happy that he can subside some of your pain. if doing something as simple as giving you a massage made you happy, he was happy.

spencer worked his hands back down to your shoulders and worked out nearly every single knot on your back. you felt your breathing slow from the relaxation and didn't even realize how good of a distraction your hands on her body were. if only you could massage my boobs, you thought with a laugh.

"umm... what?" spencer questioned.

"hmm?" you questioned, suddenly realizing that you had said that out loud. "i didn't say anything," you said, your voice raising an octave as you spoke.

spencer knew what he had heard, but decided to drop it to make you more comfortable.

"right, sorry," he said with a smile. maybe you did have feelings for him.

he continued the massage and noticed you were asleep after about ten more minutes. He sighed as he watched your hair move with each breath you took. he relished in the fact that he helped you achieve something, that he was useful for something.

"god, i love you so much," he whispered. "i love you so much, i don't even think i could tell you how much i truly love you."

you were awake. you heard him. you heard every word. you were in that weird between stage when you weren't really asleep, but you weren't necessarily awake either.

"i love you too, spencer," you spoke.

spencer shot up at your words, realization hitting him as you stirred in what he assumed was your sleep. you rolled over onto your back and looked into his eyes.

"i love you so, so much, spence," you smiled, noticing the shocked look on his face.

"y-you do?" he babbled.

"of course i do. how could i not?" you quipped, noticing his utter nervousness.

"i-i can't believe it. you love me?"

"how many times do i have to say it? i love you, spencer reid. i love you," you said as the shocked expression on his face turned into one of pure happiness and joy.

"i love you, Y/N Y/L/N. i've loved you for so long..." he trailed off, bringing your body into his arms.

"and fyi, i mean the romantic way if you didn't catch that," you joked.

"good because that's exactly how i meant it," he said, pulling back to look at you once again. "ca-can i kiss you?" he asked as his hands were balanced on the back of your neck.

you nodded eagerly before his lips crashed into yours passionately as you placed your hands on his face. the feeling of his sharp jawline with his scruffy facial hair something you've been wanting to feel against your skin for far too long.

spencer tugged gently at your hair, bringing a soft moan to your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth gingerly. he was immediately granted dominance as you allowed his tongue to travel into your mouth, investigating it thoroughly.

you were both in a state of euphoria as you delved into each other's presence in a new manner. both of you knew this discovery would change your relationship, but you had both gone through every scenario in your minds in the many years' past.

you finally pulled back at another sharp pain in your uterus.

"ouchhh," you grimaced.

"are you okay? what can i do?" he wondered eagerly.

"just cuddle with me?" you asked with pleading eyes.

"of course i can," he smiled.

he moved up to the headboard and laid his head on one of your pillows after getting underneath the covers. after he opened his arms, you rested your head on his chest and threw one arm over his torso, interlacing your legs underneath the sheets. he brought one arm around your waist as the other drew you closer across your shoulders. You nestled your head into his neck and inhaled his comforting scent.

"you smell good," you giggled.

"thank you," he laughed at your compliment.

"spencer?" you asked.

"yea, Y/N?"

"you're my pain reliever."

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid fluff #fluffy spencer #comfort

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three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat · 3 years ago

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name: mb or midnight (or duchess)

pronouns: she/her

fandoms:

kotlc (active)

pjo (semi-active)

grishaverse (not active)

miraculous ladybug (semi-active)

legend of zelda/linked universe (active)

mha (semi-active)

genshin impact (active)

rottmnt (semi-active)

about me: if you can’t already tell from literally everything: i love bunnies. this isn’t relevant to anything but i feel like that’s important to know, as i do not know what to put here. (just- just send me some asks if you want to know something. i’ll get around to answering them)

tags:

mb’s two am rambling - original post tag (not posts made at two am, that used to just be the only time i made original posts)

mb’s writing - my writing tag

mb’s memes - making memes for my fics is going to become a thing real soon

mb and [name] scream about hats - ask tag

mb plays a game - you have the misfortune to hear me talk about how bad i am at playing genshin impact or loz when this wild tag appears

fics:

start from scratch (again and again):

It’ll be a good idea, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. IT’S NOT. IT IS NOT FUN (mha, class 1a is in a time loop (unfortunately for aizawa’s sanity), ignore the long title)

and we cry into the night “what did we do to deserve this?” (time loop but sad and possibly the most serious thing i’ll write for this series)

i hope that you burrrrrrrrrrrn (shouto no) (direct sequel to It’ll be a good idea)

hawks's and dabi's guide to freaking out (direct sequel to i hope that you burrrrrrrrrrrn, wip)

Wars, Wind, and Time shenanigans:

wartime stories (lu, a collection of snippets about warriors, wind, and time/mask)

War of Eras? War of pranks (warriors and wind pick their prank war back up, unaware that mask is traveling with them)

time (does not) heal all wounds (time has a nightmare, and the chain finds out how he lost his eye)

(no) wind in the sails (wind doesn't have the hero's spirit, but angst)

what’s in a name? (wind doesnt have the hero’s spirit, but funny this time)

half assed? he doesn't even have a whole one (wind and mask mock warriors's flat ass)

pajama-napped (wind joins the chain while in his pajamas)

oneshots:

Legends Are Told (pjo, songfic about how no one remembers them)

Girl on Fire (kotlc, read at your own risk, its terrible. if you read it do not tell me i will die of embarrassment-)

Whisper in the dark (of names once known) (pjo, percy keeps getting reincarnated with his memories)

Twists (kotlc, also terrible because i wrote it in twenty minutes. i will most likely just suffer a crippling wound from embarrassment instead of dying)

is it really a crime if you don't exist? (pjo, an older percy time travels to the past and decides to cause some chaos)

we will (never) break the chain:

(unrelated loz/lu fics)

how many heroes does it take to get a cat from a tree? (the chain reminisce on some of the weirder parts of their adventures while trying to rescue a cat)

shark to the system (the colors debate how smooth sharks are)

Plink Lonk, totally not the hero (prequel/sequel to what's in a name, what Legend’s legal name is)

first of the sword (sky sees the spirits of the people of the surface)

wings of shadow, let twilight fall ((based partially on the tp manga) after losing his arm and dying, link wakes up in the spring with a pair of wings)

memes:

incorrect lu, part two, part three, part four

other miscellaneous items:

36 easy shrines to get the master sword as quick as possible (under the assumption you have the lake tower and lake hylia shrine)

recently, i was known as duchessmb (far before that, midnightbunnyy. dark times), but now, i have evolved into @/three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat

some of my very best friends are @/sameboats @/steppingonshatteredglass @/alienlamp @/jolieharkness @/if-only-wishes-were-answered @/when-wax-wings-melt @/aroace-dadwinstan @/stardustanddaffodils @/bllaaaaarrgh @/whatcouldpossiblyg0wr0ng @/howl-at--the-sun (if you’re a mutual know that i’m probably just too much of a coward to add you to the list)

if you send me a prompt i’ll eventually get around to writing it (sorry, beau)

piece together the timeline of my lu fics and you'll get a prize (there isnt one but if you can present a convincing argument i'll accept that)

i wrote a thing about the butterfly effect and i feel like it should be acknowledged

someone called me the official record keeper once and i find that funny

my discord (for my writing)

#mb's two am rambling #ive been typing for so long #mb's writing

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skye-huntress · 3 years ago

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RWBY Panel 2021 Reaction

I figured why not. I was up at three in the morning to watch the panel just for even the smallest sneak peak or news of Volume 9 so I might as well throw out my reactions and thoughts into the void of the internet.

Let me start off with the biggest non-news, the lack of date for Volume 9. In the back of my mind, this was something I feared to expect. Between the pandemic, the blackouts, and probably a lot of other disrupting forces I am not aware about, it’s not reasonable to expect CRWBY to be at the same place with every upcoming volume every year. Similar for the Volume 8 Soundtrack, though for that I wasn’t expecting to hear any new updates on.

I am interested in the new game, Arrowfell, though I will admit that side-scrollers are not a style of game I’ve ever found compelling. It’s RWBY though, so of course I am going to check it out. They never said anything about what platforms it would be on though.

Now for the sneaky peak:

I’ll admit, that first half of it was intense. It really brought everything back, the anxiety, the near-panic, the anticipation of what would happen. It felt fresh seeing it from Ruby’s perspective.

Maybe seeing Yang’s fall happen in realtime will get people to lighten up on Ruby and realise that she couldn’t have really done anything, but I doubt it.

It is interesting to see how the edges of Ruby’s vision light up when she’s trying to call on her silver eye powers. I’d wager she experiences other sensations as well when its working and not just the sudden fatigue we see her go through after the fact.

So Neo is still attacking Ruby on sight despite the fact this path may have already sealed both their fates. I feel I should say this, I don’t think there is any reasoning with Neo. If she’s half as smart as she thinks she is, there’s no way she genuinely believes Ruby is responsible for Roman’s death. She went after Cinder first for a reason. She’s angry and in pain, and she needs someone a little easier to stab than a rogue maiden to take out her frustrations on. Ruby’s just a convenient scapegoat for Neo. One way or another, it will end this volume.

Oscar, Yang, Penny. These are all people Ruby has failed recently. Oscar was captured and tortured and Ruby didn’t even hear of it until afterwards. Yang took the blow meant for her and was the first to fall. Penny is the Maiden and it was Ruby’s job to protect her but now she is at Cinder’s mercy and that bitch doesn’t even have the word in her vocabulary. I feel this is the volume where Ruby has to confront her failures and increasing doubts about her leadership. We’ve been building up to it for a while

All alone and unarmed on a shore, in a strange place in another world. Nothing to do but keep moving forward.

At the very least, that she landed in the same realm we saw Crescent Rose suggests all or at least some of the Fallen have ended up in the same place.

Predictions

For Ruby, I think this will be a critical volume for her. All sorts of negativity has been building up with her for a while now and with her current situation, the fate of her friends, and when the news of Penny’s death inevitably reaches her, something is going to give. This might be a break from the plot but it is also a break for Ruby to reevaluate her leadership, her choices and how she’s been handling basically everything. How this changes her will likely determine the direction of the show and how the protagonists confront Salem going forward.

For Weiss, this could also be a big volume for her. For one, she’s gained and lost a lot this volume. Atlas, for all its faults which caused her to leave it twice, was her home, and now it is rubble and those of her people that survived are now refugees in a Kingdom they are not necessarily welcome. She confronted her father, and was working on her relationship with the rest of her family, but is now separated from them. She wasn’t as close with Penny as Ruby, but she lost her, too, and now her sister has the same target on her back and is probably doomed to suffer the same fate sooner or later. She also thought she lost her other family and it will be bittersweet to find herself stranded with them if when she can find them again. It’s been a rollercoaster for her.

While on this note, I think we are due for a heart-to-heart between Ruby and Weiss. Ruby recently had a talk with both Blake and Yang about her leadership, but I think Weiss has the best chance of actually reaching her. After all, Weiss was the first one to openly express doubts about Ruby being a leader, and it was also a position she once coveted for herself. Weiss is the sceptic turned believer, and she’s not afraid to call things as they are, so I think she is and always was the best one to talk to Ruby about this, which is why I think they never had this conversation before. Now that Ruby is in this critical stage, of course this is the perfect time for her once reluctant and now devoted partner to put in her two cents.

Since everything went down with Adam and her relationship with Yang improved, I haven’t been quite sure where Blake’s character arc will go from there. When Yang fell, she nearly completely lost and it clouded her judgment. After her talk with Nora, I wonder if Blake herself needs to reevaluate if perhaps there are parts about her own life and wellbeing that she has neglected since she and Yang have gotten closer. Perhaps it’s a time for her to reevaluate her priorities, which doesn’t necessarily mean distancing herself from Yang but it could still mean she puts more effort into herself and her other relationships, especially with Ruby, Weiss and Jaune.

Yang was the first to fall and everything went to shit after the fact. She stopped a sneak attack on Ruby but she couldn’t stop Neo or Cinder, and she was not there for her team or Penny. That moment is probably also too familiar to what happened with Adam at Beacon for Yang’s comfort, not that I think there was anything she could do better in either situation besides simply being faster. I don’t know what Yang’s response to everything will be, what effect this will have on her. Plus I can’t forget that she’s probably suffering a concussion right now.

As for the Bees, despite all they’ve been through and even with the split that happened last volume, they were still closer than ever. There’s a mutual respect there for each other’s decisions. If one is going through something, the other will be there to talk them through it or even simply be a shoulder to cry on. If this is a situation that they’ll be stuck on for the foreseeable future, at least they have each other and there are worse places they could be stranded in. Despite everything that happened or maybe even because of it, it might seem the perfect setting and timing for some confessions and more.

Now to Jaune. He certainly hasn’t had it easy. From the start, he was the furthest behind among his peers, and now he’s been licensed earlier than most of them. Pyrrha helped him a lot with that, and was the first to believe in him and she was taken from him, and it seems he came to terms with that since Argus. He didn’t let his grief blind him and he stayed on task with the evacuation, and he wasn’t reckless when he did confront Cinder. He did everything right, but it wasn’t enough to save Penny and in the end he had little choice but to respect her dying wish. It had to be done, I don’t blame him for being put in that position, but it’s still got to hurt. It’s also so appropriate that his weapon, one of his most important tools as a Huntsman, was broken after spilling innocent blood, almost like a punishment(?) for his “betrayal” to what a Huntsman is suppose to be. He’s going to carry this until the day he dies, and now he has to face his friends, especially his best friend whom was the closest of all of them to Penny.

Finally Neo. Like I said, I don’t think she can be reasoned with. She abandoned any sort of rationale a long time ago, and it will take more than words to shake her out of it, if it’s even possible anymore. I doubt there will be a peaceful solution to this conflict, it feels too similar to what went down with Adam towards his end. He also refused to back down, he too insisted on making Blake his scapegoat, and despite being given every chance to walk away, he persisted until his death. Time will tell if Neo can avoid that fate, but my doubts about that have only strengthened since the sneak peak.

As for Oscar and the others, I already had my doubts about whether we’d see them at all. The way CRWBY talked about this volume, it seems clear that this is our break from the main narrative so I doubt we will be seeing much of Vacuo yet. I am more than okay with that, it’d be good to take a break from the main plot and focus and our main girls again and we’ll get more of that with a significantly reduced cast.

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby8 spoilers #rwby9 #rwby9 spoilers

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

harry and reader have a pet, but they break up and pet finds reader’s old shirt

Anon request - harry and reader had a pet together, but broke up. The dog finds one of y/n’s forgotten shirts and brings it to Harry (full request here)

This is FLUFF but also ANGST (i guess) oh my god WHAT DID I DO! i am so sorry, but i did a bad thing with this request, the ending is...well it’s kinda happy. i love happy stories but for some reason when i got down a hole, i just keep digging it deeper - i hope i sorta gave you what you wanted tho anon

Listening: “I Will” and “And I Love Her” by the Beatles

Warnings: break up angst, mentions of dog death (im truly so sorry what is wrong with me - i promise it’s still kinda happy)

Harry and you had been broken up for about a month now. You two loved each other very much, but you had reached a breaking point. You weren’t a fan of show business and held a regular job. Harry’s constant travel, touring, and press - everything that came with his fame from his passion - became too much for you. One night, after Harry had missed a date you had made weeks prior due to an interview taking longer than expected, the two of you had it out. By the end of the entire fight, both you and Harry were crying.

The worst part of the break up besides you moving out was that you and Harry had a big old English sheep dog together. Harry loved Paul McCartney and insisted you and him adopt a dog of the same breed as Paul’s dog, Martha. You and he had named yours George to keep with the Beatles theme. When you broke up and moved out, Harry and you had a long conversation about who should keep the dog. Despite Harry’s busy schedule, he pleaded to keep George and eventually you relented, not having the heart to take George away from Harry when you were already leaving him, much to his dismay.

Harry sat at the little coffee table in his now half empty home. It was far quieter now, since you had left he didn’t bother playing music really. He loved to find new music and show it to you when you were home together, playing it by himself wasn’t as fun. He heard George padding around the house as he reminisced on how you used to rub George’s belly till you were a giggling mess at how cute he was. Harry smiled sadly at the memory. He’s brought out of his reverie when he feels a wet nose nudging his hand resting on his thigh. He looks down to see George at his side with something creamy and linen looking in his mouth.

“Whatcha got there, Bud?” Harry says, first brushing George’s hair out of his eyes and then reaching to take the piece of clothing he had gathered from the dog’s mouth. George let go easily, obviously intending to show Harry it. It was one of your t-shirts. Harry looked at George and gave him another loving pet, he missed you just as much as Harry did. You must have forgotten it when you had rushed out all those days ago. He loved this shirt of yours, a sweet simple cream top with a lemon and an orange on it. It looked gorgeous on you, and Harry was so happy to see it, the only thing that remained of you in this home you once had shared. As much as he wanted to keep it, cherish it and use it to reminisce the times when you ran around your home together in the top, he knew you would be missing it dearly. He knew the right thing was to return it to you. The best thing would be to have a mutual friend return it to you for him, but Harry didn’t care about doing the best thing. He wanted to see you.

He texted a simple, “I have something of yours, are you home?” to you. He felt strange using the word home, when he knew that your home should be with him. When you responded a quick ‘yes’ he grabbed a coat, his keys, slipped on his shoes, and put George on a leash. “Wanna go for a little ride, Georgie?” Harry asked sweetly to the dog. George only wagged his tail in response. The two headed out the door to where you now lived.

Harry and George arrived at your new apartment a little ways further into the city, closer to your job, and Harry rang the bell when he reached your door. You sighed at the sound, not ready to face Harry since you had moved out. When he had texted that he was coming over you tried to tidy yourself up. As much as you hated to admit it, you missed Harry so much and you missed the life the two of you had made together even if it was far from perfect.

You opened the door to not only Harry, but your former joint pet, George. When George saw you he jumped up and began to lick kisses onto your face. Your grimace had quickly transformed into an overjoyed grin, open with laughter and slight disgust. “Down, Georgie!” you attempted to say while the dog loved on you. When you managed him down, you bent down to his level and gave him a good face rub and kissed his nose. Then, you turned your eyes to Harry, who had watched you with a sparkle in his eye. Your grin turned to a soft, sad smile. You exchanged somber ‘Hi’s and you let him come inside, against your best judgement.

“George, here, he found your shirt somewhere, brought it to me. Thought you’d want it back…” Harry trailed off once the two of you had sat down on your couch and let George off his leash to roam the place. “Thank you…” you didn’t know what else to say, but the air around you and Harry was painfully tense. “Y/N, listen, I miss you so much and I know it’s not fair for me to say this because you had your reasons, but, would you ever give us another chance? I won’t be this busy for the rest of my life...and, and I still love you, I don’t think there’s anyone else for me out there.”

You were speechless, watching Harry look at you so earnestly, being so vulnerable despite him knowing that things might not change. His jaw was clenched, but he stared straight at you, his large hands soft and open in his lap as he faced you. You noticed how he was rather unshaved and how his shoulders were slumped in more than usual. He looked rough, probably just about how you looked right now as well. You didn’t know what to do, saying that didn’t change how you felt.

“I don’t know, H, uh Harry,” you stuttered with your use of your old nickname for him. “I don’t want you to wait forever on me and I can’t wait on you forever either. I never stopped loving you and I probably never will, but we can’t go on living these sad, lonely lives - miserable because we didn’t work out.” You looked him in the eye now, pleading with your eyes for him to understand what you meant. You wanted him to know that you loved him, you really did, but with where the two of you were in your lives - it wasn’t going to work out.

Harry nodded, somber and sad. He knew you were right, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He got up after telling you he understood. You walked him and George to the door, giving George one last belly rub at the door. Just as you were about to shut the door, Harry turned with some final words, “You don’t have to wait for the right timing for us, but it’s my choice if I want to wait for that time. So, I will. I’ll wait for you, Y/N, and our right time.”

Eight years later

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry in a long time, maybe a few times at mutual friend events, but you were never able to be friends with him, it was too hard. You kept your love for him close to your heart, but you had had relationships since then. None had ever compared to yours and Harry’s, no matter how many lonely nights you had during your two’s relationship, no one else ever came close to that spark, that magic you two shared. You had seen and heard from friends that Harry had dated around in the past eight years as well. Various women of high celebrity status. Everyone of them perfect in their own way, but everyone of them always disappeared from Harry’s life after awhile. No matter who they were, Harry always saw something in them that reminded him of you at first, that’s what got him interested, but then when he realized they were their own person, he had trouble staying committed, being attentive. Whatever they needed from him as a partner, he couldn’t give it to them. Maybe Harry got tired of them, maybe they had real problems, or maybe they simply weren’t you.

Then, one night, you heard a heavy knock on your door. It was not too late, but you weren’t expecting anyone so you cautiously went to check what they wanted. You couldn’t suppress the look of shock on your face when you saw Harry standing before you. He was a mess, his clothes and hair were disheveled, his cheeks were painted with tears and his entire face was red. “It’s George...darling, our boy, he-he’s dying. I took him in for his 13 year old check up and they said his heart’s not working the way it used to,” he choked out.

All you could say was ‘Oh my God’ and quickly wrapped your arms around Harry’s shaking mess of a body. The fact that he called George ‘our boy’ when you hadn’t lived with them in eight years fluttered your heart, but had to be pushed to the back of your brain right then. He usually loomed large above you, but now he practically had to rise up to meet your shoulder. “Said we should put him down soon, so that he doesn’t have to suffer anymore,” he continued to ramble into your shoulder through his sobs. His emotions spilled over into you as you guided the pair of you to your couch, far more worn in since the last time Harry had been here. Tears welled into your own eyes thinking about the five years you had spent with Harry and George, raising him from a puppy with Harry. It had been so hard to leave him with Harry and almost never see him, Harry always offered to bring George around, but it was too hard for both of you. It was best that you let George live with Harry and Harry only.

“We’ll figure this out, H,” you whispered as you rubbed Harry’s back. “Where’s George right now?” you asked staying quiet as you tried to comfort Harry as much as possible. He looked up from your shoulder, his tears leaving a wet spot on your t-shirt. The tear tracks on his cheeks only growing more prominent the longer he sat before you. “‘S in the car, couldn’t leave him home alone, but I didn’t want to bring him up in case you didn’t answer.” “Alright,” you nodded, “You wanna go get him, together, and bring him up here? You two can stay here tonight, don’t think any of us should be alone right now.” You tried to smile through the pain, it probably came off as more of a grimace, but Harry’s eyes were so blurred he probably couldn’t tell. He whispered his thanks and the two of you journey out to his car, where George sat. Despite what the doctors had told Harry, George seemed just as happy as he always was, maybe just a little more docile.

“Can’t jump anymore,” Harry mumbled as the three of you walked back into your apartment. “It’s okay, H, I’ll make him a makeshift doggy bed out of extra blankets, feel right at home,” you reassured Harry and then went to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. This was going to be a long night. You got the kettle situated and then went into a back room for your extra bedding you usually used for guests staying on your couch. Harry helped you to set up George’s bed in your bedroom. It was a silent understanding, since you were using the guest sheets for George, that meant Harry either had to sleep without anything on the couch or in your bed. Since George was going to be in your room, you figured Harry would opt for the real bed.

The kettle whistled and you left Harry to finish making the dog bed. His tears had dried, but he hadn’t spoke much except to answer your questions. The night went on, you drank your tea, cried some more, cuddled with George, and then got ready for bed. “You can sleep in my bed, it’s fine, H,” you said immediately when you saw Harry look questioningly at the uninviting couch. For the first time that night, he gave you a small smile and headed to your backroom. George padded behind him, ever the diligent mate. After closing up your apartment, you followed the other two into your bedroom.

Harry sat slightly stiffly on your bed and George panted happily at you from his big sheet bed on the floor. It felt like old times, yet also completely new at the same time. You climbed onto your side of the bed, Harry still remembering which side you preferred even after eight years. You handed him a glass of water and placed your own on the side table, “Crying...takes a lot out of you. We’ve got a big day ahead of us, gotta take George out to his favorite places tomorrow. Drink up.” Again you witnessed Harry’s soft smile grace his perfect, yet sad face. Your strong facade you had tried to keep up all night for Harry was slipping away the sleepier you got. A single tear started to run down your face and Harry noticed. “Hey,” he said and instinctively scooted closer to you, wrapping his bare arms around your soft shoulders. “S’okay, Darling,” he cooed into your hair. You softly weeped in his arms feeling so confused right now. However, a sense of safety also settled over you with the familiarity of Harry’s sweet nothings in you ear and his strong arms cradling you close to his warm chest.

The next morning, you and Harry got ready and took George out to his favorite places, a gourmet dog biscuit shop, the dog wash place, and a little park by the river you and Harry both lived near. It was a beautiful day out. Sun shined and George had so much fun. Harry and you talked about your lives now. Harry’s career had begun to wind down, he’d chosen to stop touring for at least five years a couple months ago. He still wrote music, but he was doing other things and also was trying to live a more peaceful life. You had switched your job a couple years back and had moved up faster at this new one. You worked much less, but were paid more - meaning you had more free time and you didn’t have to worry about money. It seemed both your’s and Harry’s lives had slowed down and gotten to places where you were ready for a relationship as serious as the one you previously had together.

When you two had arrived at the park in the afternoon, you had realized no one had stopped and asked for a picture with Harry all day. Maybe the stars were aligning, albeit in a slightly tragic way. As you sat next to Harry and lovingly watched George prance among the tall grass near the river, you watched Harry’s hand creep itself onto yours. You turned your palm and intertwined your fingers. Then you looked up and met Harry’s gaze immediately. You both smiled, knowing a secret no one else need to know. A love like yours could never go away. It hadn’t left either of you over the past eight years. Even after being parted for so long and having minimal contact over those years, the two of you so easily picked up in a better place than you were when you were in the prime of your first time together. You had both grown so much and your lives had changed. It had come. As Harry had said eight years ago, you just had to wait for “Our time.”

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #yikes #my writings #take this away from me #this is a sin #im sorry #hopefully you can still enjoy

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meltwonu · 5 years ago

Text

| caffeine | [chapter 1]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; some smut, mild degradation. (some art history bs cuz I, in actuality, am a nerd) can I get a yeehaw! we’re finally kickin’ this off~ this is mostly just the lead up with some mild touchin’ but you know how it is~ thank you all for being so patient! can't wait to get the next chapter out 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

It’s 10:48am when Mingyu all but begs you to return his art history books on Dadaism back to the campus library. You give him 4 sentences to explain why you should be the one to do it; the tall male whining that he’s already late for his exam on Baroque art.

“Can you not be a bitch for 4 seconds, please? I’m literally begging you and I know for a fact you need to get books on that fuckin’ art and gender course so don’t play me like you’re not heading there anyway!” Mingyu shoves his books into your arms, adjusting the messenger bag on his shoulder.

“I swear after the rager on friday, I’ll take you out to get those mochi donuts on saturday, okay? I gotta go!”

He gives you no time to respond, jetting off to his already-late exam. You roll your eyes, adjusting the books in your arms as you begin the trek to the library. Mingyu was a friend that you’d met in your Intro to Photography class with Minghao, another mutual friend of yours. Both of them were no-doubt handsome and insanely educated when it came to art and art history but both of them were also part of the SVT House; one of the most notorious frat houses on Greek Row. They threw parties every other week, inviting the entire campus to show up if the cops didn’t show up first. Mingyu had invited you to a few in the past but you’d always decline; citing that you rather not be around when the cops showed up. You always wondered how Minghao dealt with being in a frat house knowing he typically hated loud parties and huge crowds of strangers.

When you finally get to the library, you struggle with the door, the damned books making it difficult for you to pull the handle open. A kind soul helps you out, a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips before you make a beeline for the receptionist desk to return Mingyu’s books. Noticing a different male there than the usual librarian, you quirk a brow.

“Um, hello?” He spares you a glance, closing a few windows on the computer he was working on before he walks over to your side of the table. You take in his features; sharp eyes, silvery blue hair, wire frame glasses, pressed white shirt under an argyle printed sweater vest tucked into beige pressed chinos. He looked like a stereotypical version of what most people would think a librarian looked like but also had the features of a high class model. You were sure you’d seen him around, probably when you’d run into Mingyu or Minghao between classes.

“Yes, can I help you?” Fuck, you think, his voice is hot too. You can feel your body heating up just from his voice alone and you take a second to recover, stuttering as you set the books down on the counter.

“Y-yeah, um, I--uh, just wanted to return these books? That’s all.”

Cursing under your breath for stuttering, you miss the way his lips quirk up into a small smile.

“Sure, let me just scan these in.” You opt to just nod, saving yourself from any further fuck ups with talking as you watch him grab the scanner.

“Hmm, it says Mingyu borrowed these books. Can I ask why you’re returning these and not himself?”

“O-oh, we’re friends. He was late to his art exam and I needed to do some work here so… figured I’d just return them for him since he’s already suffering.” He laughs, sliding the books off the counter and placing them on the return cart for later.

“I don’t see why he didn’t just give them to me this morning but I guess the beer pong from last night must’ve been the reason for him being late.” You sigh, “I knew there’d be a stupid reason he’d be late for his exam. Anyway, thanks for helping me…?” You leave the question open ended, wanting to get his name before you disappeared to one of the empty study rooms. He smiles at you again, dusting off his hands on his neatly pressed pants.

“Hi, my name’s Wonwoo. I volunteer here at the campus library every day from 10am to about 2pm. If you need anything, just let me know!” He shakes your hand, eyes twinkling as he gives you a quick up and down from behind the receptionist desk. You give him your name; watching him as he whispers it under his breath, lips tilting up into a warm and inviting smile.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope we’ll get along well.”

You hate the way the image of Wonwoo smiling at you is embedding into your eyelids while you try to work; the stupid essay sitting in front of you still blank even when you get up to look for materials on the course an hour and a half later. Checking the kiosk to find out where the said art and gender books were, you make your way through the bookshelves, not finding any of the books you were looking for. You contemplate for a second, wondering if you really want to go visit Wonwoo at the receptionist desk. Fuck it, you think, I’ll get my books and I swear I’ll finish this damn essay before I leave, it’s not just eye candy.

“Hey, Wonwoo?” He turns away from the return cart, adjusting his glasses as he walks over to you at the counter. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Um, I… it said the art and gender books were on the shelves but they weren’t, uh, there? Can you… check for me please?” He nods, sitting down at the computer while you recite the necessary info to him. Wonwoo jots down a few notes on a notepad, getting up and gesturing for you to follow him as he tears the sheet off.

“Sorry, I’m new here so we might get lost but I think they might’ve accidentally been shelved in the wrong section of the library.” He threads through different bookshelves, taking you deeper and deeper into the library until there’s hardly anyone around.

When he finally stops, you’re in a section of the library you don’t recognize, the emptiness mildly eerie as Wonwoo searches for the said books.

“Wanna give me a little snippet of what these books are about while we’re here?” He didn’t strike you as a small talk kind of person but you shrug behind him; you were already there, might as well.

“Um, it’s just, kind of how different genders consume and interpret the human form in art. Lots of it is old and outdated but it’s for an art course I’m taking right now. Y’kno, things like the ‘male gaze’ and stuff. I’m sure it’d bore you to death.” Wonwoo hums in acknowledgement, turning to face you as he slowly backs you up against the bookshelf. It takes you off guard as you hold your breath, eyes boring into the argyle print on his sweater vest.

“Interesting course you’re taking. I don’t think it’d bore me though, I’m quite enamoured with the female form.” You’re convinced if you breathed wrong, he’d feel it with how close he was. But he whispers a small ‘ah-hah’, his hand resting on the shelf next to your head as he pulls out a singular book. Wonwoo steps back, placing the book in your trembling hands.

“That’s one book, 3 more to find.”

He continues like that, his body in close proximity to yours the entire time you stand there, unsure of what to do. Wonwoo finds two more of your books, setting them on an empty shelf nearby as he checks his note for the last one. You mentally curse yourself for wearing a sundress to the library because you can feel the back of his hand grazing your thigh when he kneels on the floor next to you, hand placed on the shelf and eyes scanning for the damned book you don’t even care about anymore.

“Hmm, I can’t seem to find this last one. Weird. Maybe someone checked it out already and it got misscanned.”

“Oh, um, that’s fine, this should be g-good. I can check the shelf myself or something!”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping you out back here. I wouldn’t want you to do it alone, you know. Joshua should have already come in for his shift already anyway.” Wonwoo stands back up, his face close to your body as he towers above you. “Don’t you want my help? I don’t really offer it very often.” The suggestive tone in his voice has you clenching around nothing, already embarrassingly wet. You hope to a higher power that he can’t tell but something inside of you already knows that he’s aware of his affect on you.

“O-okay, please… please help me.”

You swear you’ll finish your essay.

Right after Wonwoo finishes getting you off.

He touches you underneath your dress, fingers pressed firmly against the wet patch on your panties as you bite your lip to keep in your moans.

“You’ve only met me today and you’re already this wet for me? You’re such an easy little thing. Do you get this turned on just for anyone or am I doing that much damage to you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Wonwoo waits patiently; wanting to hear your reply anyway. Under any other circumstances, you’d probably punch a guy that called you easy, but for some reason the way Wonwoo says it has you getting even wetter.

“I, mmh, don’t normally… d-do this I swear.” He has you pressed against the bookshelf, a leg slotted in between yours as he braces his other hand next to your head. Wonwoo’s thumb presses hard against your clit, the fabric of your panties adding extra friction as you grind down onto his hand. “Oh? So I am just that special, huh? Lucky me, I’ve got such a cute girl cumming in the palm of my hand.” He chuckles at his own joke, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly.

Your hands dig into the fabric of his sweater vest, wanting nothing more than to just cum so you can go back to working on your essay and simultaneously dying of embarrassment that you got that turned on from a guy you’d just met a couple hours ago and he made you cum in some back part of the library.

“Wonwoo, can you… touch me harder, I’m really close...” You whisper. He hums, his fingertips grazing the hem of your panties.

“Harder? Or would you want my fingers instead? I wonder how many of them you could take before you’re begging me to just fuck you?” The juxtaposition of his words and his gentle touch is enough to send you over the edge, biting your lip to keep in any sounds that threaten to escape. He lets you ride out your orgasm before his hand is slipping from underneath your dress and he’s pulling away. Your dress slides back down into place, not a hair on your head looking disheveled other than the fact your face is redder than a tomato.

Wonwoo adjusts his glasses, hands immediately smoothing down any wrinkles on his clothes after.

“My shift is almost up here and I need to get to my archeology class afterwards but if you’re ever curious about the male form, I’m a willing subject.”

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo

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the-badger-mole · 4 years ago

Text

In Which Katara Has Two Unexpected Run Ins

“No, it’s totally fine,” Katara said, running her fingers over the silky black fabric of the very expensive dress she would not get to wear. It had cost her nearly half a paycheck, too. With a sigh she took it down from the hook on her closet door. “I understand. We can reschedule for when you’re feeling better.”

“Babe, you’re a peach,” Jet sighed pitiably on the other end. His stuffy nose made it sound like he called Katara a beach, but she understood his meaning.

“I have an idea. Why don’t I bring you by some soup? I make a really good-” Katara was cut off by a sudden coughing fit on Jet’s side of the phone.

“That’s not such a great idea,” he said when he caught his breath. “I feel awful, and I’d hate to get you sick, too. I’m just going to make myself a cup of tea and go to bed.”

Katara felt her stomach sink in disappointment. She had only been seeing Jet for a little over a month, but she was starting to really like him, and she had been looking forward to tonight. Jet had made reservations at a restaurant she’d been dying to try, and then they were supposed to go dancing at a club Jet promised she’d love. But now...

“Well, let me know if you’re feeling up to company tomorrow,” she said. “We can watch movies or something.”

“I’ll don’t know if I’ll be up to it, but I’ll call you if I am,” Jet promised. Then Katara heard his throat catch. “Sorry, Kitten. I’ve gotta-” The phone clattered, and Katara heard what sounded like retching. She shuddered with distaste and empathy.

“I’ve gotta go,” Jet said a moment later, sounding weak.

“Of course!” She made a note to drop off a care package of soup and electrolyte water the next day. “Feel better.”

“Night, Kitten.”

The call ended, and Katara was left standing alone in the ruins of what she had hoped would be a romantic evening. She didn’t have any back-up plans. All of her friends were busy with plans that didn’t have room for one more, which meant she was looking at an evening home alone.

“Guess I need to get some snacks,” she said.

Despite knowing that her friends would be busy, Katara told them all what had happened. Toph was the first one to respond. Her call came in just as Katara stepped out of her car at the supermarket.

“So, he stood you up, Sugar Queen?” Toph said without a greeting.

“He didn’t stand me up,” Katara huffed. “Jet’s sick.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be the make-up date for having to miss your birthday?” Toph asked. Katara rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not his fault he caught the flu.”

“Whatever,” Toph said. “So what are you going to do? It’s still pretty early.”

“I’m just going to have a night in,” Katara said. The store doors slid open as she approached the threshold. She had to hold her phone between her ear and her shoulder while she tried to wrestle the last two carts apart. “I’m going to get some snacks and watch movies.”

“Or you could come over and let mix you up something strong,” Toph suggested. Katara raised an eyebrow, a move that would have been useless, even if her friend had been there in person.

“Don’t you have a bar exam to study for?” she asked pointedly, pausing her battle with the carts. “You told us all not to let you get away with trying to slack off.”

“Sure, throw my words in my face,” Toph groaned. “I’ve been at this for hours!” Katara turned her attention back to the carts. Of course there were no shopping baskets. She couldn’t catch a break that night.

“Well, when you’re a big time,” Katara grunted as she tried, “hot-shot,” to pry, “lawyer,” the carts apart, “you’ll be grateful we were on your side.”

“Whatever!” Toph snorted. “What are you doing? It sounds like you’re trying to deadlift a car.”

“These stupid carts won’t come loose!” Katara complained. “I can’t-”

“Excuse me, Miss? You look like you could use this more than I can.” Katara spun round to find herself face to smirking face with a man she hadn’t noticed in her battle with the carts. A man whose face she recognized from a too many years and too many miles ago.

“Zuko?” she gasped.

“Zuko?” Toph repeated incredulously. “Isn’t that the guy you told Suki and me you had that massive crush on in college?”

“Shut up, Toph!” Katara shoved her phone in her pocket hastily.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Zuko said apologetically. “I just couldn’t watch you suffer anymore.” The laugh in his tone and slight quiver in his lips suggested to Katara that he could, in fact, have kept watching. It didn’t matter, though. She went to hug him, but was blocked by the shopping cart he had come over to offer her. Smiling shyly, Zuko pushed it aside and submitted to her lung crushing hug.

“Hey, Katara. Long time no see.”

“Long time no see?” Katara pulled away and put her hands on her hips. “Is that all you have to say? What are you doing here? The last I heard, you’d gone off to run your father’s company, and marry that...girl who hung out with your sister.” Zuko blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It has been a long time,” he murmured. “The job...didn’t work out. Neither did Mai and I. Um...I’m actually here for a job interview. Sokka’s letting me crash with him for a couple of days.” Katara took a step back, trying not to let the sharp pang she felt show on her face.

“Oh...I didn’t know you and Sokka still talked,” she said. Zuko shrugged.

“Not that often,” he told her. “And I had just reached out to ask if he knew of any good motels in the city a couple of days ago, and he said I could stay with him. I guess he never got around to mentioning it.” Katara forced a bright smile on her face. She would bring this up with her brother later.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch,” Zuko continued. “We left things kind of weird, and...I wasn’t sure you’d even want to hear from me.” Katara bit the inside of her lip and shrugged.

“Well, bygones and all that,” she said. “It’s really good to see you now.”

“Are you busy tonight?” Zuko asked. “Maybe we could grab some tea or something. My treat. It was your birthday not that long ago, right?”

“Well...my date did cancel on me last minute,” Katara admitted. “But I’m not really dressed to go out.” She motioned to her ratty jeans and well worn sweatshirt.

“You look great,” Zuko said. Katara scoffed at him as a sudden warmth flooded her cheeks.

“You just don’t want me to nag you about not calling for six years,” she muttered.

“Well, no,” Zuko admitted. “But that’s what the shopping cart is for.” He grabbed the handle and offered it to her.

“Don’t you need it?” she asked. Zuko shook, his head.

“I just came to grab a couple of things. I couldn’t find a shopping basket.”

“We can share,” Katara offered. She winced inwardly at her eagerness. It was like sophomore year all over again. But Zuko didn’t seem to notice.

“Sure,” he said. “We can share.”

They slipped into conversation easily as they walked through the store. Sokka had already caught his friend up on news about family and mutual friends, so Katara asked about Zuko instead. While Katara filled the basket of the cart with snacks and cans of soup, he explained the position he had been invited to interview for. It was a competitor of his father’s company, which amused Katara more than it probably should have. Then the conversation turned to Katara.

“So, who’s this guy who stood you up?” Zuko asked casually. “Sokka didn’t mention you had a boyfriend.”

“It’s pretty new,” Katara said. “We’ve only been going out a couple of weeks. He met Sokka once, but it was a while ago. And he didn’t stand me up. He’s sick. I’m going to drop off a care package to him tomorrow.”

“I hope he knows he’s a lucky guy.” Zuko said it casually, but Katara felt her heart speed up.

“Um..thanks,” she said shyly.

“Sokka asked me to grab some beers,” Zuko told her. “Do you know where that is?”

“My next stop!” Katara grinned. “I’ll show you which brand Sokka hates the most.” They had just rounded the corner to the drinks section, when Katara stopped short, her attention caught by something at the end of the aisle.

“Jet?” she murmured. “What’s he doing here?” Zuko followed her gaze to where a young man with carefully mussed hair and leather jacket was perusing the selection of beers.

“Your...date?” he asked. Zuko’s lips twitched down, as if he had bitten into a peppercorn. Katara squinted, trying to convince herself that she was wrong.

“He’s sick,” Katara said, half to herself. “He’s supposed to be in bed.” A pretty woman with short dark hair came up behind him carrying a box of something. She draped herself over Jet’s shoulders and slid a box of something into his line of view. Jet turned around and grinned at her before pulling her into a kiss.

“It looks like he’s heading in that direction,” Zuko said. Katara’s eyes snapped up at him, stricken. Her hands clenched tightly around the handle of the cart for a moment.

“I can’t believe this! He lied to me!”

“I’m sorry Katara,” Zuko placed his hand on her elbow, but Katara turned around, hiding her face from Jet.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Zuko protested.

“Embarrassed?” Katara looked up at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I’m worried I might shove a can of soup where it doesn’t belong.” She stormed off, leaving Zuko to follow her with a cart.

The fastest way to the exit was down the next aisle , and Katara hurried towards it. She had passed the last row of cleaning supplies when someone ran into her from the side. Of course it was Jet.

“Oh! Hey, Kitten!” he said, his voice just a bit too high. “I came to the store to get some orange juice, but I’m...coughcough...still pretty sick.”

“Yeah,” Katara said drily. “I saw your nurse.”

“Kitten, I can explain-” Jet started.

“What’s to explain?” Katara snapped. “It’s pretty clear what’s going on here.”

“Well, we never said this was exclusive...” Jet said, shrugging.

“There you are, babe!” Zuko came up beside Katara and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’re in luck. The store has that wine spritzer you like.”

“Wine spritzer?” Katara stared up at Zuko in confusion. He nodded enthusiastically and held her closer. “Oh! Yeah! The wine spritzer. I thought they were all out.”

“I snuck into the employees only section and grabbed a case,” Zuko said with a wink.

“You’re so bad!” Katara laughed, slapping his chest lightly. She turned back to Jet. “This is Zuko. He’s always looking out for me.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Zuko said, pressing his forehead to Katara’s.

“Well, you sure moved on fast.” Jet shot Zuko a dark look.

“Truth be known,” Katara said with a shrug, “Zuko and I had a thing a while ago, but he lived too far away. I guess, you were kind of a rebound.”

“I’m back now, though, so she doesn’t need a rebound anymore.” Zuko let his arm drop to Katara’s waist, and he countered Jet’s glare with an intimidating one of his own. Jet opened his mouth to say something else, but the dark haired woman he was with emerged from the aisles with a bright smile and a bottle of sake.

“There you are!” she said, looping her arm through Jet’s. “You just disappeared.”

“Oh! Yumi,” Jet jumped as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Um..this is Katara.”

“Yumi,” Katara repeated with a warm smile. “Have you two known each other long?”

“Just a couple of weeks,” Yumi said, smiling up at Jet fondly.

“Oh.” Katara still smiled pleasantly. “So, he hasn’t shown you his collection yet.”

“What collection?” Yumi asked with a confused frown.

“Toenail clippings,” Katara said. Yumi’s face fell and she took a step away from Jet in horror.

“Well, love, we should get going,” Zuko said before Jet could stammer out a defense. “Nice to meet you, Yumi. Jax.” Then he and Katara hurried to the cash registers. They managed to pay and make out to the parking lot before bursting out laughing.

“Oh! I can’t believe it,” Katara groaned when she finally got her laughter under control. “Toph was right.”

“About what?” Zuko asked.

“Jet.” Katara sighed and leaned against the side of her car. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. He leaned beside her and nudged her with his shoulder. “He was a jerk. You deserve better.” Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Everyone said she deserved better, but better never seemed to be interested in her.

“Thanks for what you did back there,” she said, smiling weakly. “You didn’t have to.”

“It was my honor,” Zuko smiled back. Then he chuckled. “And the look on his face when you told Yumi about his collection was worth it.” Katara’s smile widened. The sting of the evening was still fresh, but not as sharp as it would have been. Suddenly, she wasn’t ready to go home yet.

“Hey, Zuko?” she met his eyes hopefully. “You still want to get that tea?”

#atla #atla fanfic #zutara #Zuko to the rescue!#Jet's a cad #run girl!

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arkaniist · 4 years ago

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I wrote 2.5k words about Tolkien, WWI, Le Morte d’Arthur, the Iliad and Odyssey, and more, all bundled happily in an essay about queer subtext in the Lord of the Rings revolving around the relationship between Sam and Frodo. I posted about this before, and someone asked me to post the essay, so here it is!

Homoerotic Subtext in the Lord of the Rings

In June of 1916, J. R. R. Tolkien shipped out from England to France to join his comrades on the Western Front. In July, he would participate in one of the bloodiest struggles of World War 1, the Battle of the Somme. Just a month later, he would be struck with Trench Fever, placing him in convalescence or behind a desk for the remainder of the war. Though his front-line experience was short, there is no denying the effect that the war and the loss of his closest friends had on Tolkien, nor the influence it had on his writing in the post-war years. Much has been written on that topic already. However, there is one aspect of Tolkien’s time in the service which is underexplored when it comes to the literary critique of his legendarium – of which the Lord of the Rings is but a piece – and that is his exposure to the widespread homoerotic attitudes which were a common undercurrent in the British armed forces during that time.

Homosexuality has always been an overlooked behavior on the front during wartime, even as it passed from common practice to taboo. One reason for this might be that people who are worried about being shot to death in a trench have other things to worry about besides who their mates might be kissing. Another might be that facing death brings a greater appreciation for love to the front of the mind, and it does not matter which gender that appreciation is directed towards. As a result, we find many examples in literature and letters of men expressing chaste but deep homoerotic love for other men. In The Great War and Modern Memory, Paul Fussel writes that in WWI-era battlefield poetry, one could not fail to notice ‘the unique physical tenderness, the readiness to admire openly the bodily beauty of young men, the unapologetic recognition that men may be in love with each other.’ (303). “War poetry has the subversive tendency to be our age’s love poetry.” he quotes Richard Fein. In that case, we must examine war literature for the same sentiments.

Most common in officers towards their men, we find ‘something more like the “idealistic,” passionate but non-physical “crushes” which most of the officers had experienced at public school. … What inspired such passions was — as always — faunlike good looks, innocence, vulnerability, and “charm.” The object was mutual affection, protection, and admiration.’ (Fussel 295) This makes sense, as ‘the tradition in Victorian homosexuality and homoeroticism [is] that soldiers are especially attractive. What makes them so is their youth, their athleticism, their relative cleanliness, their uniforms, and their heroic readiness, like Adonis or St. Sebastian, for “sacrifice.”’ (Fussel 302) In the Lord of the Rings, we find Frodo described as ‘taller than some and fairer than most, and he has a cleft in his chin: perky chap with a bright eye.’ (Tolkien 163). At his coming-of-age birthday party, he inherits the great evil that is the One Ring from his great uncle; he is an unintentional sacrificial lamb. Later, when he volunteers to take the One Ring to Mt. Doom knowing that it is likely a one-way trip if he can even make it that far, we find in our protagonist a young, beautiful, self-sacrificing hero.

Fussel writes that ‘although the usual course of protective affection was from superior to subordinate, sometimes the direction was reversed, with men developing hero-worshipping crushes on their young officers.’ (297) Enter Frodo’s counterpart and co-protagonist, Samwise Gamgee. Tolkien wrote in a 1956 letter to a fan that “My ‘Samwise’ is indeed (as you note) largely a reflexion [sic] of the English soldier—grafted on the village-boys of early days, the memory of the privates and my batmen that I knew in the 1914 War, and recognized as so far superior to myself.” (Letter 187)

A batman, in military parlance, was a soldier who, as well as fighting, oversaw an officer’s kit, cooking, and cleaning. (Garth) However, Sam is so much more than Frodo’s servant, though they start the journey as master of the house and gardener. Sam shows an incredible dedication to Frodo that cannot be explained as mere class-based loyalty. Take this passage from Return of the King when the enemy has captured Frodo. The Hobbits are separated, and Sam is up against what seems like impossible odds – faced with the task of raiding an entire tower he assumes is filled with enemies, alone, armed only with a short sword. He does not even know where Frodo is or if he is still alive:

‘… Except for that little frightened rat, I do believe there’s nobody left alive in the place!’

And with that he stopped, brought up hard, as if he had hit his head against the stone wall. The full meaning of what he had said struck him like a blow. Nobody left alive! Whose had been that horrible dying shriek? ‘Frodo, Frodo! Master!’ he cried, half sobbing. ‘If they’ve killed you, what shall I do? Well, I’m coming at last, right to the top, to see what I must.’ (Tolkien 887)

… He cared no longer for Shagrat or Snaga or any other orc that was ever spawned. He longed only for his master, for one sight of his face or one touch of his hand. (Tolkien 889)

Besides demonstrating Sam’s willingness to face certain death rather than leave Frodo, this passage is a perfect illustration of another one of Tolkien’s literary inspirations besides the Great War. Tolkien was a scholar of European mythology, drawing inspiration for his legendarium from epic myths like the Old English Beowulf and the Finnish Kalevala. Read the following lines from Le Morte d’Arthur regarding King Arthur’s death:

Then Sir Bedivere cried: Ah my lord Arthur, what shall become of me, now ye go from me and leave me here alone among mine enemies? … And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest… (Mallory, Book 21 ch. V.)

Alas, said Sir Bedivere, that was my lord King Arthur, that here lieth buried in this chapel. Then Sir Bedivere swooned; and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide with him still there, to live with fasting and prayers. For from hence will I never go, said Sir Bedivere, by my will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur. (Mallory, Book 21 ch. VI.)

These Medieval warrior relationships themselves draw from an even older literary tradition, one with not so much covert homoerotism but overt homosexuality. Ancient homosexual pederastic relationships like that of Alexander and Hephaestion or Achilles and Patroclus form the model for many close male warrior literary relationships. Compare Achilles’ reaction to Patroclus’ death in the Iliad to that of Bedivere to Arthur’s and Sam to Frodo’s:

A dark cloud of grief fell upon Achilles as he listened. He filled both hands with dust from off the ground, and poured it over his head, disfiguring his comely face, and letting the refuse settle over his shirt so fair and new. He flung himself down all huge and hugely at full length, and tore his hair with his hands. … Antilochus bent over him the while, weeping and holding both Achilles’ hands as he lay groaning for Antilochus feared that Achilles might plunge a knife into his own throat. (Homer, Book XVIII)

Near-suicidal grief at the loss of the beloved is a common theme between the three of them. Achilles lives to avenge Patroclus, Bedivere lives to pray for Arthur’s soul, and Sam, as luck and Tolkien would have it, lives to save Frodo, who was not dead after all, though it was a close thing. Sam’s joy at finding Frodo alive is as poignant as his grief at having thought he lost him – unashamed physical affection and more tears follow the discovery of his master.

[Frodo] was naked, lying as if in a swoon on a heap of filthy rags: his arm was flung up, shielding his head, and across his side there ran an ugly whip-weal.

‘Frodo! Mr. Frodo, my dear!’ cried Sam, tears almost blinding him. ‘It’s Sam, I’ve come!’ He half lifted his master and hugged him to his breast.

…

‘Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,’ said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam’s gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand.

Sam felt he could sit like that in endless happiness; but it was not allowed. It was not enough for him to find his master, he had still to try and save him. He kissed Frodo’s forehead. (Tolkien 889)

Tolkien’s earlier description of Sam as a combination of village boy and batman fits neatly with Fussel’s declaration that ‘to the degree that front-line homoeroticism was sentimental it can be seen to constitute another element of pastoral.’ (Fussel 300) In the Lord of the Rings, the Shire – Sam and Frodo’s home – represents the ultimate ideal of Pastoralism. In the Shire, Hobbits live community-focused rural lives with minimal conflict, drinking and feasting and partying, with little to no exposure to more advanced societies of the East. In that light, the entire quest of the Lord of the Rings can be seen as a removal from the Pastoral – the world becomes darker, less hospitable, and less natural the further East the Hobbits travel until they reach their end goal: a blighted, unnatural wasteland dominated by machinery.

As Frodo falls further and further under the sway of the One Ring, he forgets the Shire. He loses his connection to his pastoral home. Nevertheless, ever at his side is his loyal Sam, who recalls even in the darkest moments the comforts of home. Sam is Frodo’s link to the pastoral ideal when his suffering is the greatest. Sam’s yearning for the pastoral often comes up in the form of recalling Frodo as he was in the Shire. This is exemplified by the following passage near the end of their quest, just after the One Ring has been destroyed:

‘Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee,’ said a voice by his side. And there was Frodo, pale and worn, and yet himself again; and in his eyes there was peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the dear master of the sweet days in the Shire.

‘Master!’ cried Sam, and fell upon his knees. In all that ruin of the world for the moment he felt only joy, great joy. The burden was gone. His master had been saved; he was himself again, he was free. (Tolkien 926)

While Sam represents and thus easily returns to an idyllic pastoral existence after the war, Frodo remains haunted by his experiences. Finally, we reach the real end of Frodo and Sam’s journey, the temporary separation before the eternal unification. Frodo and Sam go to see off Frodo’s uncle, and there Frodo reveals he will be passing into the West as well – a form of eternal life in Middle Earth, but one that is forever separate from the rest of the world:

‘Where are you going, Master?’ cried Sam, though at last he understood, what was happening.

‘To the Havens, Sam,’ said Frodo.

‘And I can’t come.’

‘No, Sam. Not yet anyway, not further than the Havens. Though you too were a Ring-bearer, if only for a little while. Your time may come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot be always torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.’

‘But,’ said Sam, and tears started in his eyes, ‘I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire, too, for years and years, after all you have done.’

‘So I thought too, once. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them. But you are my heir: all that I had and might have had I leave to you. … You will … keep alive the memory of the age that is gone, so that people will remember the Great Danger and so love their beloved land all the more.’ (Tolkien 1006)

Here we see Frodo acknowledge that this separation splits Sam’s spirit – part of Sam goes to his home and family, but part always goes with Frodo. Frodo encourages him to live the rest of his life fully in the Shire, and when the time has come, he can reunite with Frodo in the ‘afterlife.’ Contrast this to Patroclus’ final request of Achilles in the Iliad:

“One prayer more will I make you, if you will grant it; let not my bones be laid apart from yours, Achilles, but with them; … let our bones lie in but a single urn, the two-handled golden vase given to you by your mother.” (Homer, Book XXIII)

Furthermore, the resolution in the Odyssey, as Odysseus reassures Achilles that his will was done:

Your mother brought us a golden vase to hold them—gift of Bacchus, and work of Vulcan himself; in this we mingled your bleached bones with those of Patroclus who had gone before you… (Homer, Book XXIV)

Return of the King ends with Sam riding home with a heavy heart to his family after watching Frodo’s ship depart to the West. Like the Iliad and Odyssey, we must read a bit further to determine what eventually happens with Frodo and Sam. The Lord of the Rings has a massive amount of supplementary material, including maps and family trees. In Appendix B, we find a chronology of the years before, during, and after the main novels. It reveals that at age 96, after the death of his wife, Samwise rides out to the Havens and passes over the Great Sea to unite with Frodo for the final time.

Queerness is often overlooked in serious examinations of literature, especially when the voices of cishet men dominate the discussion, as they do in Tolkien scholarship. Tolkien scholars have repeatedly dismissed the idea of homoeroticism in Tolkien’s works as silly fangirls making things gay for titillation, which erases queer voices and condemns queerness to the realm of the unrealistic and ahistorical.

I have been a fan of the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit since I was queer child struggling with gender identity and sexual attraction. In sixth grade, I received my first copy of the Lord of the Rings, and I read it voraciously until the pages started to fall out. Although I did not fully recognize the homoerotic undertones back then, I still yearned for the deep, lasting, emotionally fulfilling, and life-changing same-sex relationships I saw in those books. Even 20 years later, as a queer adult, the idea that I might share something so intensely personal with my heroes is vitally important to me. J. R. R. Tolkien died in 1973. He was a devout Catholic who maintained a lasting friendship with a gay poet and spoke with great esteem of a novel about gay men written by a lesbian; one can hardly imagine what he might have said about the idea of queer subtext in his writing. But if I, a queer reader, recognize some essential part of myself in Sam or Frodo, if I see my bonds in their bond, is that not enough to warrant an entrance into the discussion and serious consideration? Whether you see their relationship as a purely platonic friendship or a great romance of the ages, Sam and Frodo are in love.

Works Cited

Fussel, Paul. The Great War and Modern Memory. Oxford University Press, 2013

Garth, John. “Sam Gamgee and Tolkien’s batmen.” 13 February 2013, [msg for link].

Homer. The Iliad. Translated by Samuel Butler. Project Gutenberg, 2000. [msg for link].

Homer. The Odyssey. Translated by Samuel Butler. Project Gutenberg, 1999. [msg for link].

Malory, Thomas. Le Morte d’Arthur, edited by Caxton, William, and Sir Edward Strachey. Project Gutenberg, 2014. [msg for link].

Tolkien, J. R. R. “Letter 187.” The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Tolkien, Christopher, and Humphrey Carpenter. Houghton Mifflin, 1981.

—. The Lord of the Rings. HarperCollinsPublishers, 1994.

#lord of the rings #lotr #queer theory #queer academia #sam x frodo #samfrodo #samfro #is that the tumblr shipname?#if u wanna cite this anywhere now that i'm officially publishing it (by posting it) u absolutely can #but please credit me as Alex Kakela and not arkaniis lmfao

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gemma-lemma · 4 years ago

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Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

Chapter 1.3 – Kegger

Not too much time later, the friends had gathered on a hidden piece of beach with loads of beer and alcohol, dancing to blaring music and laughing ‘till their cheeks hurt.

You see, you couldn’t really understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard.

“Here we go!” John B cheered while filling a red plastic cup with beer. He held it out to Pope, who declined, but JJ was happy to take it. Parker on the other hand filled two cups with sweet juice and loads of different alcohols, giving one to Kiara and chugging the other himself.

“My god, Parker. What is that?” She groaned and wiped at her mouth. He just raised a brow and took another sip, totally unfazed by the fact that he had used not enough juice to make the drinks as sickly sweet as he usually liked them. When Kiara saw that, a laugh escaped her. Smirking, he held out his hand toward her cup, and when she gave it to him, he drank half of it and refilled it with juice.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely better.” She laughed after trying it cautiously.

“What the fuck are you two drinking?” JJ asked disgusted. Parker wiggled his brows at him and got up to throw an arm around his shoulders.

“This, my dear blonde puppy, is what we called ‘The Bomb’ back where I come from.” He snickered and ignored the way JJ went rigid by his touch.

“’The Bomb’? And what exactly do you put in that bomb of yours?”

“Well,” Parker explained and grimaced, “Basically just everything you can find. You see, in this one, I put vodka, malibu and tequila. The trick, however, is, that putting in so much sweet juice that you can’t tell for the love of God what other shit I put in there.” He winked, and JJ’s brows shot up.

“That sounds like alcohol poisoning.”

“Only for the weak and feeble, JJ.” Parker laughed, repeating John B’s words from earlier and turning away from JJ to look at a bunch of kids their age entering the beach.

The boneyard was kinda like a three-layer burrito. There’s the Pogues and their friends, the working-class derelicts from the Cut. And then there were the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They were mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just trustafarian posers. Their natural enemies. And then, there were the Tourons. Totally clueless, here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks.

While John B took over the job of pouring beer and drinks for everyone, the others went to dance and make new acquaintances. Watching with a smirk as JJ and some girl hooked their arms and drank – actually more spilled than drank – their beers, he didn’t immediately notice Kiara standing next to him.

“He’s such a fuckboy.” She laughed, and he gave her a startled look.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He joined and took her by the hand. “Let’s dance, Kiki.”

“Kiki? What am I, nine?” She laughed and let him pull her closer to the music.

“I don’t know, are you?” He grinned and started moving to the beat. She shoved his shoulder with a laugh and started dancing too.

“Jokes aside for a moment, how are you, Parker? You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, I just don’t want you to suffer in silence and be overlooked.” She said, suddenly more serious. He raised his brows in surprise.

“Oh, Kiki. Don’t you worry, baby girl. Everything at home is a bloody mess, that’s why I came here. I mean, I am sad, I am hurt and confused, and I can’t change that, but being with you guys also gives me some kind of security. It helps me breathe, and there’s nothing more you could possibly do for me.” He said with a sincere smile and rubbed her hair. Laughing, she pushed his hand away.

“I’m glad to hear that. But if you ever wanna talk, you know you can come to me, alright?” She smiled and he nodded.

“Thanks, Kiki.” Then, after a pause he added. “You want another bomb?”

“I don’t know, how many of these can you drink before dying?” She answered and raised a brow.

“My record was seventeen. But I must say that I wouldn’t recommend it. I really puked a lot that night. Almost had to go to the hospital.” He laughed and she facepalmed. Pictures of how Billy desperately tried to make him drink water while he was hanging over the toiled flashed through his mind, but he pushed them down.

“I guess I can take one more, then.” She laughed and he saluted, before turning away and walking towards the place where they had put all the alcohol.

He couldn’t find any juice anymore, so he just sticked to energy drinks.

“What the hell are you mixing there, bro?” An amused voice sounded behind him. With a grin and a raised brow Parker turned around to find a blonde boy standing there, probably a few years older than him. Judging by his khaki shorts and the light blue polo shirt he was either a Kook or a rich Touron. But then again, his face seemed familiar.

“It’s called ‘The Bomb’. Wanna try it?” He smirked and held one of the cups out for him to grab. With a sceptic look the boy sipped on the cup and immediately grimaced.

“Is it sweet enough?” Parker asked and grabbed another cup. The boy chuckled.

“It’s like – way too sweet. Man, I think I just got caries.” He laughed but took another gulp, nonetheless. Curiously, Parker took a sip of his own, grimacing at the new kind of sweet.

“Yeah, that’s unusual. Usually I use juice, like fruit juice, you know? Orange, cranberry, whatever I can find. But some idiot has already finished all of that, so we’re left with-“ He picked up one of the cans to read the etiquette, “Red Bull Fever Dream. Heavens above, what the hell?” He laughed and opened the can.

“Sounds like something you’d drink to kill yourself with.” The blonde boy chuckled and took Parkers still full cup upon seeing how he struggled with mixing the third drink while still holding his own. “You look familiar, do I know you?”

“Do you know me, do you not? I don’t know, buddy.” Parker chanted and opened a bottle of vodka. “I’m Parker, I’m just here to visit my cousin for a bit. I’ve been here before, though, some years ago.”

“Parker? Nice to meet ya, I’m Rafe. Who’s this cousin of yours?”

Rafe? Rafe, Rafe, Rafe – Ah, Rafe. Kook Rafe.

“You’re that Kook princeling my cousin can’t stand.” Parker laughed, totally ignoring his question. But his laugh seemed so genuine, that the boy – Rafe – couldn’t help but crack an amused smile too. He didn’t seem like the type to usually smile at a joke like that, but that was Parker’s magic; contagious carelessness.

“Oh, can’t he now? What’s his name, maybe the feeling is mutual?”

Parker was just about to reply, when JJ appeared behind Rafe and gave him a dirty look.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” He spat and went to stand next to Parker. Rafe frowned at him, and even more when Parker rested a lazy elbow on JJ’s shoulder.

“Don’t tell me he’s your cousin.” Rafe said exasperatedly and Parker had to laugh.

“Nah, don’t worry, but if you already react like that to JJ you won’t like to hear that my cousin’s actually John B.” He smiled, and Rafe gave him another exasperated look. Parker bit his lip to contain his grin and nodded.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah, you can fuck off now.” JJ growled at Rafe and Parker slapped his shoulder, clearly not taking the situation serious. There were things Parker cared to get mad about, and there were things he didn’t waste any of his energy for. This was definitely one of the latter kind.

“Jeez, JJ. Be nice to your guests. What’s a party worth if you chase away all its guests.” He purred, winked at Rafe and took his drink back before leaving them to glare each other down and going to look for Kiara.

He found her sitting on a dead tree with some guy he didn’t know.

“Virgos are, like, so organized.” She explained to that poor soul who probably just wanted to get into her pants. “Like, all my friends that are Virgos are like-“

“Hey baby, I’m back.” He called and watched her face light up at the sight of him. The boy she had been talking to immediately fled.

“Took you long enough, honey.” She got up and took the drink he held out for her.

“Honey?” He gave her an amused look.

“Yeah, you know, because of your hair. It’s so golden, like fresh honey.” She smiled and he couldn’t help but admire her peaceful vibes.

“Sarah! Sarah, be careful!” A male voice caught their attention and they turned around to see a blonde girl in a flowery blue dress climb up a – Parker didn’t even know what that was. It was big and red and looked like something that belonged in the water like some kind of metal buoy. The one trying to look after her while she clearly didn’t care seemed to be her boyfriend, or best friend, or maybe even someone else entirely.

John B approached them, and Kiara looked at him with delusion and anger written all over her face. She suddenly looked so uncomfortable that Parker draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his body, trying to reassure her via the proximity.

“What is she doing here?” Kiara asked John B, but he didn’t really know an answer to her question.

“Why? Who are they?” Parker asked, and now John B found his voice.

“That’s Sarah Cameron, Kook princess. Kiara’s best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade.” Kiara scoffed at his words and Parker rubbed up and down her arm reassuringly. “I work on her dad’s boat. The guy that’s with her, he’s Topper, her not so pleasant boyfriend. Topper actually thinks Pogues were bred to mow lawns.” John B explained and they watch him help her down from that buoy thing.

“Does he have frosted tips?” Parker asked incredulously and John B nodded with a grin.

Kiara wanted to get away, but he held her close to him and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Hey, it’s alright, Tiger. I will fight every Kook that dares to make you feel uncomfortable to death.”

That actually made her giggle a little. “Maybe not to death, yeah?”

Parker acted as if he was huffing annoyedly, but it was clear by the smile on his face that he wasn’t at all. “fine, whatever you say, baby girl.”

On the other side, John B couldn’t seem to get his eyes off the Kook pair.

#jj maybank #outer banks jj #obx #outer banks fanfiction #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #topper #john b

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theradioghost · 5 years ago

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some recs for my podcast mutuals who are burnt out on horror & sad plot stuff

aka I’ve been seeing a few flavors of people exhausted by several of the most popular podcasts around here being pretty dark right now & I have attempted to put together a tasting menu of some stuff I think might help alleviate that burnout (& which also deserves some more love)

1. I'm okay with stuff that’s still on the dark or macabre side, I'd just like something that isn’t 100% characters I care about suffering horribly all the time, maybe some laughs in there

The Beef and Dairy Network: Like a seriously disturbing body horror podcast, except British satirical comedy! About cows! You kind of have to listen to it to get what’s going on tbqh it’s nearly impossible to explain but if you like horror and are just tired of being depressed about it maybe try this one. NOT for the easily nauseated.

Wooden Overcoats: black comedy sitcom about two rival funeral homes on a small island, one run by The Most Perfect Man On Earth (tm) and the other run by two misanthropic twins with a knack for disaster (and their hypercompetent assistant (and a mouse who wants to be an author)). this one is about watching the protagonist suffer horribly all the time but like, this time it’s usually a lot funnier and honestly he deserves it

Death by Dying: (so far very short) dark comedy about the resident obituary writer of idyllic Crestfall, Idaho, who sets out to tell the stories of how the town’s residents died and ends up uncovering a lot of other things, like conspiracies, and man-eating cats, and a poet’s vanishing childhood home, and what his friend the Angel of Death isn’t telling him about what’s in the dark woods. has very strong ASOUE or Pushing Daisies vibes, that sort of dark whimsy and really distinct narrative voice

Arden: “true crime” comedy-ish mystery podcast feat. two of the best bickering hosts anywhere and a whole third host called homoerotic tension, trying to solve a decade-old Hollywood mystery. secretly a shakespeare adaptation. one of the hosts is michelle agresti. an airline run by killer robots is involved, somehow. it’s a perfect storm

2. I’m good with some plot and higher stakes, but I need something more kind and hopeful right now:

Middle:Below: 10-minute episodes about a man who travels between the worlds of the living and the dead to solve the problems of restless ghosts, and the three friends he does it with -- a ghost, a cat, and a writer. their tagline is “remember: bad things will happen.” this is basically a lie, this show is extremely sweet

Alba Salix: high fantasy medical workplace comedy about hospital staff in a fairytale-ish kingdom, namely one grouchy witch, one distracted fairy, and one extremely disgruntled teenager sentenced to community service. also comes with the miniseries The Axe And Crown, which is about a gay troll bartender, his clueless landlord, and his bombastic niece, and also is one of the most heartfelt touching pieces of audio fiction I’ve ever heard?

Dark Ages: also a high fantasy workplace comedy, but in this one the dysfunctional cast work at a magical natural history museum, which thanks to recent events is now hosting the mythical Dark Lord on top of all the usual problems caused by their complete incompetency.

Solutions to Problems: a sci-fi relationship advice show feat. human host Janet and alien host Loaf. also feat. banter, illegal time travel, what to do when the AI that controls the air you breathe is your on-again-off-again girlfriend, and how to avoid your many spouses when they insist you need to come back to the homeworld and spend some time with your spawn.

Victoriocity: steampunk buddy-comedy mystery show, in which misanthropic detective Archibald Fleet (aka Tom Crowley but he’s grouchy this time) and intrepid newbie journalist Clara Entwhistle (aka an absolute ray of sunshine) uncover some Secret Plots within the government of a very different victorian london. if you like the “opposing personalities come to care deeply about one another as friends” trope this one is for you

Inn Between: not an actual play, but a show about the developing relationships of a party of RPG-esque adventurers as they rest at the inn between campaigns. you don’t see the adventures, just the crew growing closer and learning about one another in their moments of peace.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris: sci-fi adventure about a stranded biologist and a ragtag crew of smugglers who set out to resist an authoritarian government, solve a mystery, and prevent a second human-alien war. as far as I can tell their plan for accomplishing this is to be as funny, gay, and adorable as possible, and to dismantle oppressive systems via the power of found family tropes. also via the power of linguistics.

3. just give me the fluffiest, funniest, sweetest, most relaxed, lowest-stakes thing you have:

Everything is Alive: meditative, deeply touching show where Guy From Public Radio holds interviews with inanimate objects. the interviews are super genuine and beautiful and I think they’re improvised, or at least they sound very natural? for people who want to be profoundly moved by a can of generic brand cola (you may not know but you are one of those people)

Standard Docking Procedure: a self-described “hopepunk” scifi sitcom about a group of employees on a space station, dealing with the little daily misadventures of difficult tourists, traffic control disasters, nonexistent love lives, and each other. Has an explicitly stated purpose of staying happy, lighthearted, and comforting.

Love and Luck: tied for absolute most heartwarming audio drama in existence. the story of the relationship between two Australian men, told through voicemail messages, as they fall in love, start a cafe, build a supportive and loving local queer community of close-knit friends and chosen family who help one another through thick and thin, and also find out that they can do magic apparently (IMPORTANT NOTE: there are some darker events and themes tackled in the plot starting around the latter half of the first season, but the focus of the story itself is always on how people support and help one another through trauma and difficulty, and the explicitly stated core premise of the show is that every character will have a happy ending and be okay.)

Quid Pro Euro: Look Around You-esque satire of old 80s and 90s instructional tapes where Felix Trench tells you what the European Union will look like in the far-off year of 2000. I don’t know anything about the European Union but I cackle like a witch when I listen to this

The Cryptonaturalist: I know you’ve seen his tweets. well it’s that but a podcast. just a man with an extremely nice voice talking about fantastical creatures like salamanders that swim through parking lot asphalt or foxes that roam the shelves of libraries at night. in between he reads poetry and generally talks about nature in the most beautiful way you could imagine. this show feels like a peaceful walk in the woods.

The Hidden Almanac: a podcast made 90% out of gentle fantasy worldbuilding, as a somewhat grumpy man in a plague doctor mask tells you about the history of his world and distributes gardening advice. has an immense archive of four-minute long episodes. it’s best to listen in order, because there is continuity, and be aware that about the first year or so has dropped off most feeds. written and performed by much-loved fantasy writer and artist Ursula Vernon and her husband Kevin.

Startripper!!: the other forerunner for most heartwarming audio drama in existence. seriously, you cannot imagine how much joy Startripper!! will bring into your life. it’s just the travelogue of one little alien with a heart full of enthusiasm and love setting out to see the universe and making friends along the way with just about everyone he meets, including his extremely loveable spaceship AI. I really mean it. listen to this show if you listen to nothing else.

Cabin Pressure: BBC radio workplace comedy about the dysfunctional crew of the world’s smallest airline. not only utterly hilarious but will tug on your heartstrings more than you could possibly imagine (this does not look at first like a found family story but it so very much is). warning for bendytoots cucumberpatch but like, in the one and only valid role he’s ever played. you definitely cannot find this show by searching its name on the Internet Archive.

#HEY DO YOURSELVES A SELF CARE! LISTEN TO SOME THINGS THAT ARE NICE! I LOVE YOU #bobbie recommends things #my posts #podcast recs

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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

As promised here chapter 5. I’ve made it long to apologize about posting it late. Again, I’m sorry. However, I hope you enjoy it. As always if you have any ideas or things you’d like to see happen, let me know! Next chapter, someone will make a cameo, who do you think will be?

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner (let me know if you wanna be added)

If you lost a chapter: Masterpost

Chapter 5 - “Concert”

"Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!" Her loud scream of enthusiasm was heard throughout the house alarming its guests.

"What? What's going on?!" Tommy ran out of his room out of concern regarding her screech, thinking the worst.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Came Alfie's annoyed grunt as he got up from the chair he was sitting on with the help of his cane. Being cooped up in the house all day wasn't helping his sciatica at all.

But Emma didn't grace either of them with an answer. Instead, she simply jumped off her bed while calling her friend on Facetime, completely clueless of the worried men that were standing outside her room waiting to know what was going on.

Squirming on her feet, failing at staying still, Emma sported a huge smile on her face while she waited for her friend to connect. Half expecting to see Bane's face popping up on the screen, Alfie thought about leaving, not wanting to repeat the other day's situation but contrary to his expectation, a female face appeared on the screen. Adjusting his position against the door so that he was more comfortable, he now was genuinely curious. It was the first time that Emma talked with a female friend. He had even begun to think that she didn't have any.

"Jen, have you heard?" She excitedly asked her friend that seemed none the wiser.

"Emma, it's literally 8 am here. You're lucky I even answered you."

"Well then, I'm about to make your day ten times better. Check the message I've sent you on Telegram."

"Can't you just tell me?" Jen's tired voice complained

"That's not fun, I'm building the suspense." Emma firmly explained waiting for Jen to do as she said.

"What do you think is going on?" Tommy asked Alfie.

"I've no idea mate. No idea." Alfie simply said, scrolling his shoulders while not removing his eyes from Emma's form.

After a couple of seconds of silence, which saw Emma grinning like a fool and Tommy and Alfie simply standing there like some clueless bodyguards, Jen's squeal brought Emma's smile only to widen while Tommy and Alfie were startled, the former losing his balance while the latter lost his grip on his cane. What the hell...

"Thank all the gods in Olympus, they've blessed us!" Jen's face reappeared on the screen now mirroring Emma's expression.

"I'm so happy Jen, you've got no idea. I really thought they were just going to refund us."

"I told you, you had to be positive about this! You never listen to me, you pessimistic bitch." Jen sassed making Alfie's eyebrows shot up and Tommy's lips to pout.

"Can you, for the love of God, tell us what's going on?" Alfie's voice prevented Emma to respond, making her finally aware of their presence in her room.

"Oh, hello boys." She simply greeted him not understanding their worried stance. When they gave her an allusive look she finally explained with a big smile.

"Harry's concert got rescheduled."

"And that's what got ya screamin like a fucking banshee?" Alfie grumbled

"Other concerts have been simply cancelled and the tickets refunded. This way we still get to see him." Now fully facing them, she elaborated.

"Fucking hell." Alfie simply muttered under his breath leaving the room. She turned to Tommy but her confusion only grew.

"Next time I hear you screaming, you better be dying." He said before leaving as well.

As confused as ever, her face resembled the question mark which made Jen laugh.

"Ugh, men," Emma joked.

"While we're on the subject, how's the living together thing going?" Jen noisily asked wiggling her eyebrows making Emma know that she was here for the tea.

"It's going well actually. So far, at least. They've been surprisingly helpful so I'm not complaining."

"You're stuck with three handsome, mouth-watering men and that's all you're going to tell me?"

"I know they're attractive Jen but nothing is going to happen. We're friends."

"If I were you, I'd walk naked all the time and hide their clothes so that they'd also have to be naked all the time. You'll see how something will happen then." Jen shared her absurd plan topping it with a suggestive wink.

"You're missing Nik, eh?" Emma affirmed more than asked knowing very well that being away from her boyfriend was really taking its toll on Jennifer.

"You've no idea. This is going to be pretty tough, not going to lie. There's only so much we can do on video chat and of course, it's not like the real thing." Her friend complained, making it very clear why she was missing her boyfriend so much. If there was something that Jennifer wasn't, it's certainly being smooth. She's the kind of person that's very upfront about things, whatever they are.

"I can imagine." Was Emma's attempt at being sympathetic. Her relationship with sex was really different, however, she could understand Jen's problem. If she had a boyfriend whom she loved as much as Jen loved Nick, maybe she'd miss the connection that comes with sex too.

"I'm here, terribly horny and suffering for this quarantine and you're standing there surrounded by dicks and you won't take advantage of it!" Jennifer loudly complained, getting cruder and cruder and Emma couldn't help but scrunch her face in horror at her friend's choice of words.

"My god Jen, get a grip on yourself girl," Emma jokingly reprimanded her, " You should have come here when I invited you then."

"Unfortunately for me, I'm awfully loyal and Nick's dick is the only one that I want. But I know that you'd have been delighted by my presence, you don't have to pretend."

"Oh damn, you got me. My life is empty without you." Emma indulged her. It wasn't completely false, she did miss the girl a lot.

"I know, I know. Listen, babe, I've gotta go, Nick's calling me. I'll talk to you later and please, think about what I've told you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, bye Jen." Emma willingly ignored her last statement and ended the call with a nostalgic smile.

Emma was fully aware of how unconventional most of her relationships were. She never really thought about them that way, it was always people's reaction to them that made her realize how strange to an outsider might look. But to be fair, however unorthodox her relationships may seem, they were all based on mutual respect and honesty. When people asked her if it was true that she and Tommy were just friends, Emma would always be puzzled by their astonishment. Yes, they had been together. So what? Some people work better as friends. And yes, Emma wasn't blind, Tommy was sexy af but while she could admit it without shame she would also be lying if she said that she thought of being with him. Been there, done that. It didn't work so she moved on. As did he, there was an understanding between them.

Alfie was a totally different thing.

They had started off as friends but both of them felt that there was more. That there could be more. And in fact, there was. They tried it out and it was working just fine until her job cut in and ruined everything. She had to leave. And neither of them were too sure of a long-distance relationship. Alfie respected her decision, he knew how important her job was for her, how ambitious she was. But breaking up was inevitable. And so they did.

However, since there really was mutual respect and affection between them, they kept in touch. Sure, it wasn't the same thing and both of them had had different partners in the meantime, but they always found their way back to each other.

So, when it came to them, friends was a reductive word but it was better than to explain their whole relationship to some stranger every time. They would better fit under the heading "it's complicated" but a global pandemic wasn't the right time to deal with this situation and finally label their relationship. Emma knew that that was why she was ignoring Alfie's jealous remarks and Jenn's proposal. Things were already difficult, neither of them needed them to be even more complicated.

Days went on like this then: Tommy and Alfie that would bicker from time to time, always because Alfie would provoke him in some way; Eddie would jump in and either fuel their discussion or would spend his time tormenting Emma. He was surprisingly helpful though. He would go out and go shopping for necessities claiming that it was impossible for him to get infected, he would help her clean up and take care of the house. As long as he lent a hand as he was doing, Emma wouldn't complain about him pestering her. Emma and Bane would still video call every other day to keep in touch but he was unexpectedly evasive when it came to his whereabouts.

Everything was going fine. Emma knew that she was one of those who had it good, that's why she couldn't find it in herself to complain about this whole situation. However, if she could speak freely, she'd have to admit that her mood was progressively getting worse. She tried to keep a routine to keep her busy but the truth was that she was finding it harder and harder to get out of bed and do things, with each passing day.

She still tried though. Because she had taken a commitment with the other guys and had chores to do, but also because of her job. And most importantly she didn't want anyone to know that she was feeling so blue. Emma was one of those people that prefer to deal with their problems by themselves and shy away from any kind of attention when they're going through something.

Up until this day, end of week two in lockdown, she had pulled it through. For whatever reason though, this day had hit her harder than any other. Maybe it was because of the article she was supposed to write. It was about self-love, how important it is and what are the different ways one could take care of themself quarantine edition. The topic wasn't weird perse, Emma wrote frequently about this kind of stuff, it was just that she felt like a scam writing it. How could she write about self-love and ways in which people could make themselves happy, especially in these difficult times, when she was the first one who was miserably failing in doing so?

Yes, it was definitely this the reason for her sulking.

She was lying on her bed facing the ceiling with her head dangling at the end of it trying to find a way around this article that she had to write. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that the door of her room was open and that anyone passing through could see.

"Em?" Tommy's voice anchored her to reality and made her eyes snap open. However, she remained in her weird position, not bothered to lift up nor to answering him.

"What are you doing?" He walked further into the room but didn't get too close to her.

"Thinking." Emma just mumbled, scooping a little further so that her head wasn't hanging anymore. Nodding, Tommy got close to her now, and lied down beside her but facing the other way.

The reason why Emma and Tommy had stayed friends after they had hooked up, was because before that night they had actually hung out a lot. Emma was writing a piece on the tournament he was taking part in, Sparta, and had heard about him and his brother. In order to actually write the article, Emma had to speak with both of them. She didn't expect to get along so well with both of them. Not that Tommy was that much of a talker when they first met. Only a few short answers here and there and the occasional joke. However, Emma knew a little of his backstory and had also the impression that there was more to him than met the eye. He was hurt. Emma had no doubt about that. And just like her, when he was hurt talking to people was the last thing she wanted.

After coming to that realisation, dealing with Tommy became easier. He gradually opened up to her, even if it was only a little, and they got along really well. In some way, they were alike. And once you've found a soul similar to yours you tend to keep it close.

With time Tommy had learnt to read Emma just like she did with him during their first time together and come to the understanding that when Emma closed off like this, she was hurting.

He didn't say anything. He just laid there, next to her. Held her hand letting her know that he was there for her but leaving her the time to open up if she wanted to that is.

"Right, what's goin on in here?" Alfie's voice startled them both but while Tommy rolled his eyes, a little annoyed by his interruption, Emma reluctantly smiled at his antics. Sometimes, she wondered why he was so amusing to her and then realized the warmth and comfort that he brought her along with his annoying ways.

Pushing her head so that she was looking at him upside down, she smiled when she saw him standing there with his hands on his hip like an angry lady.

"Could you please stop pouting and come here and cuddle with us?"

Everyone knew that Emma was an affectionate friend. But for her to be so outspoken about it and asking for affection? It was a red sign and Alfie recognized it. So stop pouting he did and made Tommy scoop so that he could lay on her other side, holding her hand.

Their sweet cuddling session would be short because Eddie would soon be coming back from the grocery store but they all enjoyed while it lasted. Sometimes, Emma realized, the best self-love tip was simply being surrounded by our loved ones.

#let's stay home #quarantine AU #modern alfie solomons #alfie solomons #alfie #alfie solomons fanfic #modern alfie solomons fic #tommy conlon #tommy riordan #tommy conlon fic #eddie brock #eddie brock fic #alfie x oc #tommy x oc #eddie x oc #alfie solomons fluff

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veliseraptor · 6 years ago

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do you understand that we will never be the same again, 2.5k, vague handwavy post-thanos au with tragic siblings (v. thor&loki) inspired by this post, suitcases full of trauma, don’t look at me I just live here

Thor practically clung to him.

Loki could not blame him - nor, in honesty, could he resent it. No small part of him was grateful: it let him, disjointed and fractured as he was, to steady himself against Thor, no matter how unsteady Thor himself might be.

Being alive was not the same as never having died, and he remembered far more of the latter than he would like. Not that that was something he discussed with Thor, or that Thor asked about, though sometimes with the way Thor looked at him Loki though he wondered.

But all of...that...was something better kept locked away, hidden, unthought as much as possible. And if sometimes he felt it there, closing on him like a hand tightening around his neck…

All he needed to do was find a quiet place where he could put his head against his knees and fight his own lungs until his breathing steadied.

And Thor, when not occupied with the business of governance (which he and Valkyrie pitched back and forth like it was a hot iron, while Heimdall kept things from bursting into flame), stayed close by, his eyes on Loki hungry, almost desperate.

It was not, strictly speaking, comfortable, but it was understandable, and Loki didn’t object. Thor was, after all, the only reason that he was alive.

And if Loki was honest...Thor was not the only one who needed it.

He’d tried sleeping alone. It hadn’t worked. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they shared a room, and a bed, as they hadn’t since they’d both been children, and both slept better for it. Not well, but better.

They were both so very far from whole. Loki didn’t know that they ever would be again.

At least they were alive.

For some reason, that thought made Loki want to laugh. He pressed it down, muffling the shaky breaths in his hands.

“Loki?”

Thor. Loki rose quickly, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, chasing away the worst of his shadowing thoughts. “Here,” he said. Thor rounded the corner and his smile was almost dazzling in its relief.

“There you are,” he said, as though Loki had been missing for days. “Would you like to join Val and I for a game?”

“Why not?” Loki said, calling up a smile that didn’t even feel much strained. “You might even manage to give me a challenge.”

Thor scowled at him, but there was no sincerity in it, the remnant of the relieved smile lingering. No matter how much of his performance was pretense, that remnant alone made it worth it.

Loki woke up to Thor muttering under his breath and tossing restlessly in his sleep.

That wasn’t unusual, any more than it was unusual for him to wake up with Thor holding him and hushing Loki, his throat raw from screaming.

In Thor’s indistinct words he heard Thanos and no, and his body tensed, chest tightening. He shoved the reaction down and reached out to lay a hand on Thor’s shoulder and soothe him back to sleep.

In the next second - less - he was on his back, Thor pinning him down, and Loki heard him snarl from somewhere far away “get your hands off him” but the only thing he could really register were the hands around his throat.

The only thing-

His thoughts fractured, split in two. He could see Thor, eyes wild, crackling with lightning, but he was diminishing, swallowed by the inside of a ship, the smell of blood, fighting for air as Thanos squeezed the life slowly out of him. He could have made it fast but he hadn’t, had wanted Loki to suffer, to see death closing in and he could hear himself speaking, forcing out some futile last defiant words as though that could cover up the fear, the terror of the abyss, the desperate hope that somehow, somehow-

The final crack felt somehow in his teeth, explosion of pain, over.

But it wasn’t over. He was still starving for air, his body screaming in protest, and he could hear Thor begging Loki, please, listen-

Thor hadn’t spoken.

His vision doubled again, broke, and he dropped back into his own body, on the floor with his back to the wall, choking on his own breaths, hands raised like claws. Thor was in front of him, several feet away, his eyes wide.

Loki forced air into his lungs and held it there. One, two, three. Exhale: one, two, three. Again. Again. Again.

His vision blurred. He swallowed, and felt the ache in his throat.

Thor. Thor’s fingers wrapped around his neck, and squeezing.

There was blood under his nails, and he could see scratches on Thor’s arms, on his face. He opened his mouth, but there were no words.

“Loki,” Thor said, his voice ragged and hoarse, “I didn’t mean to - I didn’t realize…”

“I know,” Loki said. His own voice was hoarse, and when he spoke his throat hurt. It’s all right, he should say, but it wasn’t. They were both quiet, other than the sound of Loki’s breathing, still too loud.

“I’ll go,” Thor said, his voice small.

“No,” Loki said, pushing himself up. “No, I will.” He avoided Thor’s eyes, the lost, miserable look on his face. If he didn’t...if he didn’t, he might let himself be pulled back in, and the thought of being close to Thor right now just made his heartbeat quicken.

“Loki,” Thor said, but Loki left quickly before he heard the end of the sentence.

He went out into the open air and gulped a few lungfuls of it. He sat down in the grass and tried to empty out his thoughts, but memory kept intruding, and Thor’s thumbs digging in, and what had been safe suddenly...wasn’t.

Shaky, unmoored, he held very still, staring at the cloudy night sky and trying to think of something happier, but he kept coming up empty.

Thor was avoiding him. Or maybe he was avoiding Thor, or maybe they were just avoiding each other. Loki wondered if Thor thought he was sparing Loki, or just didn’t want to deal with what had happened. In fairness, Loki didn’t know what there was to deal with. It wasn’t Thor’s fault he’d lashed out in the throes of a nightmare.

Loki should be able to let it go. Accept that Thor had not been trying to hurt him, and that he hadn’t, in the end, really been hurt.

What if next time he doesn’t stop?

“Whatever happened,” Valkyrie said, standing in the doorway of his newly adopted house, “you need to pull it together and deal with it.”

Loki stared at her, keeping his face blank. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Thor,” she said. “I’m expecting rainclouds to start rolling in any day now with how hard he’s been moping. And you’ve just plain vanished. I half thought you’d taken off.”

“I haven’t,” Loki said. “And it is really none of your business. I wouldn’t expect you to be interested in interfering.”

“I’m not,” Valkyrie said. “But Heimdall and I rolled for it and I lost. So here I am.”

“Your message is received,” Loki said. “Good day.”

She caught the door before he could close it. “Look,” she said, and then stopped. “If Thor fucked up, just go yell at him and get it over with. You don’t look like you’re having any fun either.”

“He didn’t,” Loki said flatly. “As I said, it is none of your business.”

“Should’ve fucking cheated,” Valkyrie muttered. He didn’t think he was meant to hear it. “If you’re not pissed at him, why are you avoiding him like he’s got the plague?”

“Did it occur to you that he might be avoiding me?”

Valkyrie just looked at him, and Loki breathed out through his nose. “It is between Thor and me. Not a concern of Asgard’s governing council.”

“It’s becoming a concern,” Valkyrie said.

“And why are you talking to me?” Loki asked. “And not to him?”

“I did,” she said. “Figured that’d be easier than trying to pry anything out of you. But he told me that it wasn’t his to share.”

“So you came to me after all.” Loki stared at her with her hand holding the door open. He could shove her out and lock the door in her face. It really wasn’t any of her business. And she wasn’t exactly an emotional supportive friend - or at least, not his.

“Yeah,” Valkyrie said. “I did.”

Loki tapped his fingers against his leg and said, “Thor had a nightmare and started strangling me. I suspect he feels bad about it.”

Valkyrie blinked, and then blinked again. “Oh,” she said.

Loki gave her a thin smile. “There you go,” he said. “Your missing puzzle piece. Feel free to go back to Thor and reassure him-”

“I doubt it’s my reassurance he wants,” Valkyrie said.

“Well, I haven’t any to give him,” Loki said, his voice rising sharply. “I am not going to - tell him that it’s fine, that it doesn’t matter-”

“Hold on,” Valkyrie said.

“He was supposed to be safe!” Loki said, and then heard himself, and wanted, a little, to slam the door between them and hope she forgot every word of this conversation.

But she wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t, and here they were staring at each other, her eyes a little wide like his outburst was the last thing she’d expected. Loki took a shaky breath in.

“Leave,” he said flatly.

“Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Yeah, okay. I’m gone.”

Wide awake, Loki tossed and turned, his eyes snapping open every time they started to close. He remembered Thor holding him when he’d returned, death spitting him out once again. He’d clutched Loki to him and sobbed like a child.

He remembered dying. The hope that his last pointless act in life would at least spare Thor, that Thanos would decide his death was enough and give Thor a chance to survive.

Let him live. At least give me that.

There was so little left.

He rose, and wrapped himself in a coat, and went outside. He wandered, with no particular intention, but his steps still brought him back to Thor’s door - and if that was not an apt metaphor, what was?

He knocked, half expecting no answer, but the door opened on Thor. He looked wretched. Exhausted, and miserable, and on seeing Loki his eyes widened. Loki waited for him to say something, but he seemed to be at a loss for words.

Finally he managed a weak, “do you want to come in?”

“Please,” Loki said. It sounded stilted, awkward. Felt it, too. But Thor stepped back to let him enter, giving him more room than he needed, and then hovered at a distance. Loki felt it between them like a chasm.

“You look tired,” Thor said abruptly. “Have you been sleeping?”

Loki cut him a sharp look. “Have you?”

He said nothing, only glanced away. Taking that for answer, Loki walked over and collapsed into one of the chairs.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said finally. “What happened.”

Thor made a strangled noise. “It was my hands.”

A frisson rippled down Loki’s spine and he pressed his hands together so they didn’t tremble. Somehow, his saying that made it easier. “It wasn’t yours that I felt.”

Thor fell quiet. Loki could feel his gaze, sidelong, and waited for the question he knew was coming.

“How much do you remember?” he asked.

“All of it,” he said. Proud of himself for how even it came out. “Beginning to...end.”

“Did you think...when you attacked him…”

“Did I think it would work? Not really.” Loki shrugged one shoulder. “It seemed likely it was your life or mine. I considered it a fair trade.” I still do. Most of the time.

Thor took a ragged breath. “It doesn’t work like that,” he said. “It isn’t - your life isn’t something to be traded away.” Loki said nothing, and Thor lurched toward him, reaching out, only to stop. He held his tongue carefully so he didn’t say then what else is it good for?

He did wonder, sometimes.

“I kept waking up,” Thor said, after a long pause. “These past...in the middle of the night, I woke, afraid, and reached to find you, and you were not there. And for a moment, each time, I thought…” He trailed off. “So often, in the past years, you have...been gone.”

Loki stared down at his hands. “I know.”

“I should have saved you,” Thor said. “Every time, I should have - but I didn’t. You say it was worth it. I cannot feel that it was.”

Loki’s tongue was tied in knots. He had to try, several times, before he could speak. “It was my choice.”

“I know,” Thor said. “That does not actually make me any happier about it.” Silence hung heavily between them, and finally Thor sighed. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

Loki bit the inside of his cheek, and then said, “Do you think we can fit a second bed in here?”

Thor blinked at him. Loki shrugged and avoided his eyes. “I am not...I wasn’t just staying here for your sake. I don’t think I can...but perhaps in the same room would be enough?”

He posed it as a question, or meant to, but it came out plaintive.

“I don’t expect,” Thor started to say, but Loki interrupted.

“I don’t want you to martyr yourself and claim it is for my sake.”

“Then what do you want?” Thor asked. Desperate, a plea of its own, the need for some real answer. Thor had never done well with helplessness. Always, he’d railed against it, seeking for something he could fix.

That was the trouble, though: there was nothing here that could be fixed.

“I want to hold on to what is left,” Loki said.

“Such as it is,” Thor said, with unaccustomed bitterness.

“Yes,” Loki said after a hitch of a moment. “Such as it is. Can that not be enough?”

Can’t I be enough?

“Is it?” Thor said, his voice ragged, and then shook himself and said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know.” He tried to smile. “You could consider it fair return for the number of times I’ve hurt you.”

Thor shook his head. “Loki…”

Norns, he was so tired. “It’s all right,” he said. “We will...find a way past this. As we have everything else. Eventually.”

Thor stared at him, then made a sound in his throat and this time didn’t stop himself, pulling Loki up and into his arms, holding him a little too tightly. “Just don’t leave,” he said. “Just don’t...please.”

Loki closed his eyes. “I won’t,” he said, knowing it might be a lie. Save once, he’d never wanted to before. That hadn’t mattered, when it came to it.

For a flash of a moment, he saw Thor’s face looking down at him, his snarl, his thumbs digging in as Loki’s heart hammered to break his chest-

He flinched and it was gone.

But not forgotten.

#a wild fic appeared #tragic siblings #loki's a goddamn mess #thor is my favorite puppy #endgame fix it #well more like ignores endgame entirely but whatever #just a wee bit of angsty hurt comfort #written while i should've been writing other things what else is new #absolutely zero spoilers

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