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ohworm-writes · 4 years ago

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BNA: Brand New Animal Relationship Headcanons!

bna masterlist

‼ General Dating Headcanons ‼

Featuring: Shirou Ogami, Michiru Kagemori, Nazuna Hiwatashi, Marie Itami, Pinga

Warnings: spoilers for BNA!, some angst amongst all of them, but mainly tooth-rotting fluff :,)

a/n - thank you for reading!!! BNA doesn’t have enough fanfiction content, so here you go!! i actually adore doing headcanons, so this was nice to be able to write!!! BNA is also my favorite/comfort anime soooooo I couldn't NOT write something for it!!! if you want to see more BNA related works, i’m definitely going to be open to writing them in the future!!! my requests open up next week, so drop one then if you’d like!!! thank you for reading <3

content below the cut!

shirou ogami

» wolf husband!!

» oh we all know he’s gonna be nervous when it comes to love

» he’s scared he can’t trust you at first

» it’s probably gonna stay that way until he gets comfortable with you

» which, albeit, takes quite a while

» but when he does?

» he’s all over you!!

» i like to think he’s a very cuddly person

» he doesn’t show it a lot though, but for you?

» he’ll let it slide

» he’s not one for extravagant gestures though

» so if you’re going on dates

» expect it to being either at his place, or something extremely simple

» i don’t think he’d be particularly for PDA

» but if someone were to flirt with you?

» he won’t be afraid to show them that you’re with him

» again, very cuddly

» he likes to be big spoon cause he wants to make you feel safe

» but he also likes to be held

» the memories of his comrades dying is a memory that’s painfully engraved into the very fibers of his being

» so please show him some love

» kisses!!!!

» oh he LOVES to smother you with kisses

» he’s very affectionate in private

» he just loves you so much!!!

» i like to think that michiru got the two of you together

» just like

» michiru: hey look at that beastman over there! they’re super pretty!!!!

» shirou: yeah, sure

» michiru: i’m going to go say hi

» shirou: w h a t

» also, going back to trauma-

» he doesn’t like to talk about it much

» it brings up bad memories

» so he won’t outwardly talk to you about it

» but if you want to console him?

» you’re one of the few people he can really trust and get vulnerable with

» VERYYYY LOYAL PARTNER

» he loves you, and is so scared of you leaving him

» he would never think about cheating on you (the best boy)

» maybe it ties in with him being a wolf beastman-

» shhhhhhhhhhhh

» very very very nervous to tell you that he’s the silver wolf

» he’s so scared you’re going to leave him or hate him or look at him different

» but the sweet kiss you give him when he tells you melts all of his worries away

» GIVE HIM PETS!!!!!!!!!!

» he’s embarrassed but he loves it!!!!!!!!

» his love language is quality time!!!!!!

» he just wants to spend time with you

» he’ll go out of his way to blow off unimportant things (like michiru-) just to be with you

» softie-

» but we love him <3

michiru kagemori

» AHHH MY SWEET GIRL!!!!

» i love her oh so much

» if she likes you, it’s obvious

» painfully so-

» she gets all flustered before you start dating whenever she talks with you

» tripping over her words

» making a fool of herself

» (somehow more than usual-)

» but when you express you like her back?

» you’re stuck with her

» loves cutesy dates!!

» you wanna just watch a movie???

» she’s got a pillow fort and a ton of snacks at the ready

» you wanna go for a walk?

» you’re dancing with her under the stars in the park

» she’s a sucker for that kind of stuff

» she loves showing you off too

» michiru: everyone, this is my partner, y/n, and they are the best person in the world

» y/n: michiru i-

» she absolutely introduces you to everyone like that

» she loves you too much not to express it!!!

» that leads me to her love language…

» words of affirmation!!!

» she’s going to tell you she loves you at any chance she gets

» and if you’re ever insecure?

» she’s your girl

» she’s also big on physical touch

» loves holding your hand out in public

» hugging you and peppering your face with kisses

» the whole lot!

» she’s such a goofball-

» she’d do something stupid just to make you laugh

» michiru: Y/N! I GREW WINGS! AM I GOING TO LAY AN EGG OR SOMETHING???

» when she first told you she wasn’t a real beastman, she was nervous

» but it all washes away when you hold her and tell her you love her no matter what

» she’d definitely cry at that

» she’s so grateful to have you

» and she would go to any extent just to make you happy

nazuna hiwatashi

» GOD SHE’S SO PRETTY I’M NOT EVEN GONNA LIE

» she’s a very caring partner

» when you first start dating though, she’s very nervous

» will you hate her for faking the silver wolf?

» or maybe because of her slightly dismissive behavior?

» but when you decide to stay? she know’s shes in love

» her love language is touch!

» she always wants to be touching you

» she’s not the best at expressing her love or gratitude through words

» so she lets the soft caresses, forehead kisses, and cuddles do it for her!

» oh i can imagine her being a cuddle bug

» just holding you while the two of you fall asleep

» or you holding her!

» she adores just being able to be near you

» when she introduces you to michiru

» it’s chaos

» y/n: in my defense, I was left unsupervised

» nazuna: wasn't michiru with you?

» michiru: in my defense, I was also left unsupervised

» just being absolute idiots together

» back to nazuna though…

» she gets jealous easily!!!

» you can’t change my mind

» if she thinks you’re giving someone too much attention

» she won’t be afraid to just come in and hug you until you pay attention to her

» it’s adorable

» with the church of the silver wolf tho…

» you probably met AFTER that was all said and done

» she doesn’t really have followers anymore

» and a few beastman still hold a grudge against her

» she gets insecure because of it

» make sure to tell her that you love her for her

» she really needs to hear it

» oh! she loves any romantic gestures

» fancy dates? walks in the park? sign her up!

» she loves too much not to show it

marie itami

» crime weasel

» cbhmasbbchasb okay but seriously i love her

» i like to think that she’s sly with her flirting

» but if you flirt back?

» she’s a flustered mess

» she lovesssss pet names

» she particularly likes using “baby”, “love”, “sweetheart”, and “hun”

» loves if you use some back

» her love language? acts of service

» she loves to help you with small tasks

» opening the door for you? absolutely. grabbing the remote for you? of course!

» she wants you to know she loves you, but mainly in smaller gestures

» not as much of a cuddle bug as the rest, but definitely appreciates it

» she’d never turn you down for hugs or pecks

» any time she has by herself, she wants to spend it with you

» her dates aren’t extravagant though

» cuddling on the couch and watching a movie are her specialty

» i like to think that she usually falls asleep after you

» she’ll talk with you until you eventually fall asleep

» it’s more of a protective thing if anything

» she wants to make sure that you’re okay before she rests

» she loves you so so so much

» you’re the only person she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable with

» she has her own insecurities yes, but she tends to bottle them up

» she doesn’t want to bother you

» she’s better at listening and giving advice than venting it out

» it’s not your fault, she’s just not very keen to it

» she likes to keep your relationship more private than anything

» her job is… not normal, and she doesn’t want to eventually end up making the wrong people mad and get you hurt

» so PDA is kept to a minimum

» but she’ll always make up for that in private

» telling you how much she loves and appreciates you being with her

» she doubts your relationship sometimes, thinking that you deserve better

» tell her you love her

» that you really love her

» and her heart is yours

pingua

» your honor

» i love him

» oh my goodness his love language is totally gift giving

» 100%

» you cannot change my mind

» if you look at something in a store for more than 3 seconds

» expect it to be in your possession by the next day

» he won’t say he did it

» but he totally did it

» taking you on flights???

» yes pLEASE!!!!

» he loves showing you the world from his eyes

» and adores it if you love it as much as he does

» wing hugssssss

» imagine him just draping his wings around you while you guys cuddle

» my heart-

» wait, here me out-

» y/n: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» pingua: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» HE WOULD THOUGH AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND

» not afraid to get vulnerable with you

» he’ll talk about his comrades and the stupid regulations with ease

» yes, it’s a tough subject

» but you have to talk about difficult things to get through them

» he has nightmares because of it

» he wakes up in cold sweats sometimes, those images ingrained into his head

» hold him

» please

» tell him that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere

» give him kisses and help him ride it out

» aside for that, another goofball

» loves, and i mean LOVES making you smile

» also a HUGE flirt

» he’s cocky about it too

» pingua: aside from being adorable, what do you do for a living?

» y/n, dying: cjsdbivcbhshdkcjbakjcbhsadbmc

» another one who loves romantic gestures

» i like to think that he’s quite the gentleman

» restaurant dates and dancing are right up his alley

» but dear god he loves you so much

» he has no clue where he’d be without you in his life

593 notes · View notes

finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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We need more Bella and Megan content!!! Insta posts were so cuutee!!! Maybe a blurb abt the relationship between Megan and the family?? It could be interesting… I imagine then being a very open and close knit family u know, where they can talk freely about anything,and yes including sex, and I think it could be interesting to see how maybe bella needs some advice/want to talk to someone about being intimate w her gf and doesn’t know how to bring that up to her family bc she is embarrassed and doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable?? I’ve never read a doc like this, or where one of the kid is not straight (only w/ Harry or the reader being bi) and yeah it should be written abt more.

megan and belle are sooo cute yes! ok let’s see where this goes!! hope you have fun reading;

belle - 18

“Will you stop faffing, you look beautiful honey.”

You slapped Belle’s hands from playing with her outfit again. Tonight you and Harry were properly meeting Megan for the first time, by taking them out for a meal at this new Thai restaurant down the road. Belle had been worrying all evening as she was getting ready, coming downstairs multiple times to show off outfits to you so you could give them your honest opinion. It didn’t help her when you said she looked beautiful in all of them. Belle wasn’t into playing “girly” dress-up, but she thought that putting effort in for her girlfriend, tonight, might be a good idea. So she’d finally decided on some denim jeans, a basic top and then one of Harry’s old blazers. She looked amazing.

“Just so nervous.”

“Why? You like them, right?” You asked, adding on a bit of lipstick, whilst you were sat at the table of this fancy restaurant.

“Yeah. Like really like them.” Belle emphasised, shrugging off the blazer as she was becoming too hot with nerves.

“Well then we’ll really like them too. We trust you.” Harry butted in, sitting as close to you as he could whilst sat in these chairs. Before you’d managed to sit down at the table he’d moved your chair along to be closer to his, meaning he could slink his arm around the back of your chair and have his hand in your lap if he wanted to. Even after all these years he still knew how to make you feel especially loved.

Belle’s phone pinged and it made her freak. “Oh god, it’s Meg. They’re here.”

“Okay, B. Calm down and go and get them from outside, we’ll just order some wine or something.” You ordered her softly, trying to put your daughter more at ease. She was more nervous than you imagine Megan would be.

Your daughter stood up from the table, both you and Harry smiling at her. “Okay.” She pushed her chair in behind her and about to walk off, but she quickly turned back to you both, “Remember; Megan Dover, they/them pronouns and don’t mention anything about astrology otherwise we will be dead before we leave this table,okay?”

You both chuckled at her, loving how she was so aware of her girlfriend and the things that were important to them. “Okay love. Now stop fussing and go.” Harry shooed his hand and his daughter away from the table. She turned back around to flash you two thumbs up and you both smiled at her, watching your all-grown-up baby walk away.

“We’ve done well Styles.” You turned to face him, to find he was already admiring you, thinking about the wonder life you’d both created and the wonderful children that had been a product of it.

“Was just thinking the same thing, m’heart.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips onto your lipstick-stained ones. He didn’t care if his lips became painted a different colour because of it, he would never miss the opportunity to give his beautiful wife a deserving kiss. He loved you too damn much.

You cupped his chin and he tightened his arm around you, that had been slunk around the back of your chair. He squeezed your thigh three times in signal for saying ‘I love you’ without any words needing to be spoke. You tapped his chin three times in return. Everyone always hated how loved up you two were, but really you just think they’re jealous of how perfect your relationship is. Sure you have your ups and downs, but isn’t that what makes it so perfect? You pulled away and looked into his dreamy eyes, kissing him once more for good luck, before returning your attention to your glass of water for a drink.

“Thirsty?” He asked you, keeping you close.

“Mhm. All that talking I was doing this afternoon on the phone to that bloody insurance company.”

“You did give them a piece of y’mind though, love. You were a lot more civil than I would’ve been.” Harry chuckled, waving his hand to catch one of the waiters attention.

“Seriously though? Nearly charged us an extra £1,000 for a service charge. Bloody fuckers.” You sighed and put your water back on the table after taking a lengthy sip.

“£1,000 isn’t really that mu—” He didn’t finish his sentence though because he caught sight of your stern face and knew exactly what you were thinking. You hated when he talked about money as if it wasn’t a problem, because you didn’t want your kids to grow up with that ideology. “You know what? They’re bastards and i’m proud of you for handling them so well.” He kissed you again and then the waited came over, stopping you from having a go at him for being cheeky. You pinched his leg in respond and he caught your hand, holding it tightly in his as if a warning for you to stop.

“Evening Sir. How can I help?” He asked politely, his serving towel draped over his forearm.

“A bottle of y’cheapest red wine please.”

“Certainly Sir.” And the waited was gone.

“Cheapest?” You asked confused, making Harry turn back towards you.

“Well it’d be a bit hypocritical of us to ask for our favourite bottle of wine, which is £1,000 darling, now wouldn’t it?” He smirked at you, knowing he’d played you just perfectly.

“Such a git.” You scoffed in pretend offence and then kissed him again too make sure that he knew you weren’t mad.

You both sat back and looked in the direction which now you could see Belle walking back over to you from where she’s gone to fetch Megan. Belle was guiding them book, Megan following closely behind her, and they were holding hands. They looked completely adorable and you wanted to just rush your camera out and snap loads of photos of them to remember this moment. Yes, you were that mum who takes a photo of everything and anything when it came to your children. You even had an album on your phone dedicated to your children’s haircuts… You leg started to shake nervously in anticipation.

“Calm down you!” Harry laughed quietly, just incase the two girls could hear you. Harry stood up out of his chair first and held out his hand for you to follow. He made sure your chair didn’t tip back as you stood and kept ahold of your hand as they approached you both.

You caught Belle’s eye and you could how happy she was from the twinkle within.

“Mum, Dad, this is Megan,” Belle introduces you all, Megan still stood slightly behind her, “Meg, this is my mum, Y/N and my dad, Harry.”

Harry was the first one to cross his hand over the table. “Lovely to meet you Megan.”

“And you Mr Styles, but please just call me Meg.” They shook hands together and Harry smiled at them warmly, wanting to make her feel as part of the family as possible. He was good at that.

“Well then then you, please, call me Harry. Makes me feel old otherwise.” His joke made the table laugh and ease any nervousness that had been there before.

“That’s because you are old, dad.” Belle added cheekily.

“Oi watch it you. Don’t think I won’t embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.” He raised his eyebrows teasingly and pointed sternly at his daughter, who did pack quite the punch with her snarky responses sometimes.

“I’m counting on it Harry.” Megan laughed, which made everyone chuckle again. Megan was such an easy girl to get along with and it was clear that they made Belle a very happy person, for that you indebted to them.

“And nice to see you Meg.” You shook your hands with Megan as Harry and Belle continued to banter over the table. You were sat opposite Megan, Harry next to you and Belle diagonally opposite you. You and Megan both sat down before Harry and Belle did.

“Likewise Mrs Styles,” you gave them a look which had them chuckling as they corrected themselves, “Y/N, sorry! Are they usually like this?” They asked you, watching Belle and Harry talk about some absolute rubbish.

“Oh don’t even start! They wind each other up all the time. Drive me up the bloody wall they do!” You laughed and you felt calmer when Megan laughed too. “Wine?” You offered them, having had the bottle delivered whilst you were all being introduced to each other.

“Yes please.” They smiled and held out the glass to help you pour. You poured them a generous glass and then followed by pouring yourself one too.

You weren’t blinded by the beauty of Megan. They had strong-loving brown eyes and blonde hair that seemed to be toned down with brunette roots. They had a simple face with perfectly plucked eyebrows and a fiercely sharp jawline. They were just very naturally pretty, that you could tell. They were wearing similar to Belle actually, which made you think they’d coordinated their outfits - your inner mum was freaking out over the soft thought. You and Harry often liked to coordinate outfits too, like tonight - both of you were wearing navy blue.

“You want wine B?” Meg asked Belle, breaking her away from the pointless conversation with her dad.

“What? Oh, yes, yes please.” Belle responded, shifting closer towards Meg and holding their hand again. They kept their public displays of affection to themselves, a bit like you and Harry had originally been. You filled up your daughters glass, but passed on filling up Harrys glass because he was driving home tonight.

“So what do you plan on studying at university Meg?” You started the conversation with the easiest question you could.

“Marine Biology.” They answered and you could tell they were clearly excited by the tone of happiness in their voice. You didn’t miss the squeeze of pride that Belle gave them either.

“That sounds good! Where abouts are you going to study?”

“Newcastle, actually.” Meg went quiet and you understood why, because Belle was going to the exact same university to study Engineering.

“Oh really?” Harry asked, pretending to be surprised but it definitely came through sarcastically - this earned him a kick under the table from his daughter.

“Oh shut up!” Belle rolled her eyes and Meg smiled at her playfulness with her family, it made them really happy that their girlfriend had such a loving and special family.

You were so not ready to send off your daughter to university, because she was your final baby to leave the safe nest of the Styles home and it was just going to be you and Harry left. You were excited for the time you’d have with him, but you were sad to see you final child leave you. You were even more excited for Belle to be going out and adventuring the world as she wanted to. She was going to do great things and you couldn’t be prouder of her. It eased you to know that at least Meg would be their with her - almost like a home away from home.

“You have any brothers or sisters Meg?” You asked.

“I have a younger sister, but she’s evil.” Meg laughed, before taking a sip of their wine.

“Evil how? ‘Cause my children are the exact same.” Harry spoke sincerely as if one of his children weren’t sat directly in front of him. It earned him another kick to his legs from his daughter. “See? Evil.” Everyone laughed, Belle just sulked.

“Well Ivy just terrorises everyone and anyone. She’s just evil.”

“Belle ain’t much better i’m afraid.”

“Dad! Meg is going to leave me if you keep painting me out to be an arsehole.” Belle rolled her eyes, but was brought out of her strop by Megan who brought her hand up to press their lips on her skin.

“Can’t chase me away that easily Belle.”

And it was that moment that you knew that Belle had found a forever partner in Megan, just as you had found in Harry.

152 notes · View notes

kaashiboo · 4 years ago

Note

ahah heeeey!!!!! can i request kenma, akaashi and sugawara as best friends with gender neutral reader?

thank you for your hard work i really enjoy reading your headcannons (灬º‿º灬)♡

haikyuu boys as your best friend

┇ kenma, akaashi, and suga

gn!reader

【warnings: none】

➢ general note: ohoho this is a very long one so buckle up!

✎ a/n: aaww this is request is cute! thank you for appreciating my work and i'm so glad you enjoy reading them! take care of yourself!<3

kenma

you've been friends with kenma and kuroo ever since you were a child but you're more close with kenma due to his chill personality.

but that doesn't mean that you're less chaotic

kenma honestly questions himself as to why he's best friends with you

but you're a bit more tolerable than kuroo he guesses.

"say, if i hypothetically and accidentally broke your swi— kenma, you're gonna kill me with your stare." you laugh nervously.

"give it to me." you removed your hand behind your back and gave him his switch with a pout.

"are you mad at me?" you asked, rubbing your nape. awkwardly.

kenma sighed loudly, "yeah."

"oh" your shoulders dropped.

"but it's fine since i already bought a new one. i'm mad because i was planning to give you this one but i guess we have to make someone check it out if it's still repairable." he replied and your eyes lit up in excitement.

"really?"

"yeah."

"but i don't have the money for it."

"we'll make kuroo pay." he shrugged and you tilted your head in confusion.

"eh? do you really think he would agree to that?"

"i don't know. maybe. just do all his work or compliment him everyday, that might work."

"are you two planning on how to murder me?" kuroo appears out of nowhere, ruffling kenma's and your hair.

"yes." the setter and you answered in unison.

people also wonder how you can keep up with kenma but you're honestly one of the people that can see through him and could tell whether something is bothering him.

and he never hesitated to show you what he really feels. if he's mad then you'd let him vent and let out all his frustrations.

and there were times as well where he just wanted to be away from anyone so you gave him space.

but because he finds you tolerable, he begged you to not distance yourself from him.

now, in terms of YOU being sad, we all know he's not the greatest when it comes to comforting people but he would always find a way to cheer you up like offering you to play games with him.

he would even let you do the interior design of his house in minecraft as long as he can see you're enjoying.

just like what others do, he would typically protect you from mobs while you pick up flowers.

but most of the time, you would have a competition on which person could kill as many mobs as they can.

you also would do stupid challenges that you see on youtube.

and late night walks with him are the best since you never had to worry about bothering him when he rarely sleeps early.

let me rephrase that real quick, it's mostly you walking around while kenma sits on a bench,,, still playing.

but he would occasionally look for you to make sure you weren't lost or kidnapped.

you would eventually get tired so you just... lay on the grass and roll around.

kenma puts down his switch, "what are you doing, y/n?"

"i'm bored. you're not even paying attention." you whispered the last part but he still caught it.

"alright, sorry. stand up now. let's go to the convenience store and crash at kuroo's house." he offered and you immediately agreed.

because the two of you never failed to be in the same class every year, your classmates would be confused since you two would verbally fight and give each other a silent treatment and then one second later, you would give him food and he tries to help you beat the level you're currently on with the game you're playing.

and in the timeskip, the three of you have stable jobs like, rich rich rich very rich.

"at this point, we can be your sugar daddies." kuroo jokes but you paid no attention to him as you were still busy processing with what kenma gave you as a present.

literally everything you need for streaming— heck, you're not even sure if you would use all of them.

but kenma still wanted to drag you along with him to do things that he loves

not that you'd complain about it anyway.

"you're helping me set everything up." you finally recovered from your state of shock and pulled kenma up from your couch.

akaashi

and the best 'best friend' award goes to akaashi keiji!

look, just because he's a laid-back person, doesn't mean he's unaware of how to push your buttons.

he would subtly annoy you. so subtle that not everyone could notice that you wanted to murder him on the spot.

"akaashi keiji, i will seriously ki—"

"it's settled then! y/n, please come to my office now." the teacher spoke, making you groan in frustration before standing up but you made sure to purposely step on his foot and he silently winced in pain.

the chat with the teacher didn't take long and when you exited the office, you saw your best friend standing outside, waiting for you with a barely noticeable smirk.

yeah, we might have to take back his award.

you rolled your eyes and walked past him but he grabbed your bag and pulled you back.

"sorry, do i know you?" you scoffed.

"look, i'm sorry. i already told you that you shouldn't sleep in class." he reminded, implying that him dragging you into doing something was a sort of consequence from sleeping in class.

"i know! but you decided to be annoying again and volunteered that i would help with some activity." you complained. he still hasn't let go of your bag but you continued walking which may or may not made it look like you were his pet.

akaashi knows you're not actually mad at him and so he didn't have to bother to apologize again.

"if it makes you feel better, i volunteered first before you. at least we're now both busy."

you didn't respond and continued walking, "where are you going?" he asks.

"home."

"no."

"no?"

"i have practice," he said.

"what does that have to do with me?!" you wailed.

"nothing." you facepalmed and let him pull you to the gym.

the first time you met was during middle school. you were crying because you lost a competition and unfortunately for you, akaashi was the one who won.

he tried comforting you but you pushed him away.

akaashi was persistent though. he didn't want you to stay mad at him and so he bothered you everyday until you finally started to warm up to him.

you sighed for the ninth time. deciding to make a paper plane and throw it to akaashi's way.

it fortunately hit his forehead and he 'tsk-ed' at your action but he continued reading the book anyway.

you reached for the plane, crumpling it until it's round.

"i thought you were gonna teach me?" you question and threw the paper at him, again but lucky for him, he caught it.

he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "how am i supposed to teach you if you keep throwing things at me?"

you see, you're smart but there are certain subjects that you really hate and you coincidentally got sick during a discussion and now you and akaashi are currently studying in the library.

he knows he could have just lent you his notes and you can just take a photo of it but he wouldn't let you do that because his reasoning was, "you'll learn better if you write it down." you've complained to him about it many times and he'll eventually get tired and not give you anything so now you've learned your lesson,

don't annoy keiji.

but sometimes, he's kind enough to cover for you when you're asleep during class and would lie to the teachers by saying you're sick.

which rarely happens since he doesn't always tolerate you so being friends with him feels like having a parent watch you all the time.

"maybe if i befriended konoha then i'm already done with this." you huffed.

"he doesn't have the patience to deal with you, y/n." you let out an offended gasp before throwing your pencil case at him.

honestly speaking, the two of you get along really well. you're more talkative and he tends to listen to your rants a lot.

and of course, he would also share to you how his day went and how he found a new way to get bokuto out of his emo mode.

hanging out with him outside of school can be chaotic at times.

especially if you decide to go to the arcade because expect him to tease you a lot when you couldn't get the prize you wanted.

he would help you though:)

and since you two are a popular duo, you would often get a lot of confessions from boys and akaashi would ramble about how it's a waste of time and that you should focus on your studies.

but he would also reassure you that he'll support you no matter what decision you make.

in conclusion, he's a bit confusing and indecisive but he just wants the best for you but then he would also start thinking that he's being controlling of your own life.

akaashi also can't keep his cool sometimes,

"i can't believe they cheated on me." you hugged your legs closer to your chest as you sob.

his practice was already over but he insisted that the two of you stay at the gym so that you could talk to him about your problems.

"they’re an asshole, y/n." he replied.

usually, he would rub circles on your back when you're crying but this time, he stayed still on his seat so you glanced at him and frowned.

"you weren't even paying attention," you said.

"i was," he stopped typing on his phone to look at you.

"i was just searching up ways how to murder someone without getting caught." he joked and you chuckled.

"just kidding. i was ordering your favorite food. now stand up and wipe your tears. don't let that asshole see you vulnerable. show him that you don't even need him in the first place because you don't need anyone, 'kay?" he pulled you up and nodded at his advice.

"except for me, of course. how else would you be alive if it weren't for me?"

"i have my own parents." you rolled your eyes playfully.

"they don't love you— they prefer me." he teased once again. earning a punch from you.

suga

aDMIT IT, SUGA IS SO FUN TO BE WITH.

like sureeee he would help you most of the time

but he's also the same person that would get you in trouble.

"vice principal, i am so sorry! i didn't mean to knock off your wig! please don't suspend me—"

"it's fine, l/n. just go and don't tell anyone." the old man sighed.

you bowed and left, running to where suga was standing.

you saw your friend biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh.

you glared at him but you couldn't help but to cackle at what happened and now you two are being noisy in the hallway that made others look at you weirdly.

"i told you, he's bald!" he exclaimed and your laugh couldn't get any louder until you start coughing from the lack of oxygen.

"oH MY GOD— DON'T DIE ON ME Y/N," he said dramatically before offering you a bottle of water.

"you're so dramatic, please shut up." you rolled your eyes after drinking.

you and suga have been arguing for a week about how he witnessed himself how the vice principal's wig flew off and it was too good to be true so you didn't believe him.

not until your beloved best friend pushed you to the vp's direction accidentally.

you were taller than the old man so when you bumped into him, you wanted to grab onto something for support but instead, you knocked off his hairpiece.

and suga ran away instead of helping you.

we love a supportive friend.

"well at least he was kind enough to not give you a punishment." suga shrugged and you just nodded your head in agreement.

when you transferred to karasuno during second year, you luckily met suga when you asked for directions.

you two were in the same class so he accompanied you the whole day.

he was very talkative and you loved hearing him talk about volleyball.

at first, you admired him for how approachable and kind he is

but now you just want to kick him.

"i said he wasn't my crush!" you convinced him but suga ony hummed in response.

"but you were staring at him with heart eyes." he quirked a brow.

"i wasn't!"

"you were!"

"i wasn't!"

"you we—"

"suga and y/n, that's enough." daichi sighed. pushing the two of you apart from each other.

"daichi! your vice captain is being annoying again."

"daichi, did you know that y/n has a crush on y—" his words were cut off when you covered his mouth with your hand and he had no choice but to bite your palm and you backed away in disgust.

"i don't like you anymore." you huffed and he just ruffled your hair.

"ah really now?" he smiled but you knew that behind that smile was an evil intention.

"nevermind." you muttered. not trusting your own friend.

oh and your parents adore suga.

like, they know you have other friends as well but suga is the only person they trust to be with you all the time.

and honestly, you agree with them. no words or numbers could describe how much you trust the setter.

despite his naughty and chaotic attitude, he always takes care of you.

kind of like akaashi but he's a bit more loose.

he's very good at giving you advice.

he's also the type of friend that sulks when you miss a game.

like, he would literally ignore you.

and now you're struggling how to make him forgive you.

"kōshi, enough. you've been ignoring me for a week! it was just one game, come on." you persuaded, poking his side but he didn't budge and continued writing down notes.

"i'm sorry for missing your game. i swear, it was an accident! i would never miss your next match again!"

he shifted in his seat and your eyes were filled with hope.

he looks at you with a slight hint of disappointment, "even if i'm not a regular anymore?" the question caught you off guard.

"what do you mean?" he remained quiet and you took that as a sign that he didn't wanna talk and so you impatiently waited for classes to be over.

as soon as you were dismissed, you pulled him out of the classroom to take him to your favorite spot just near the gym.

"i don't like how you're doubting my ability to support you. it doesn't matter what you do— heck, you could even commit a crime and i might bail you out of jail." you uttered. finally breaking the silence that engulfed the two of you the past few minutes.

you struggle with expressing how you feel sometimes and being able to decipher your analogies is one of suga's skills.

"your comforting skill is top tier." he replied.

you know how he would playfully hit his teammates? he'd do the same to you but he would only give you head pats, not wanting to hurt you physically.

and you unexpectedly just learned how to love it.

it somehow inspires you to work harder since he only gives you head pats when you achieve something and it's his way of congratulating you!

he also likes to drag you along with him. he wants to watch a movie? he would buy an extra ticket just for you!

but sometimes, he would whine about being broke when he's with you🤡

would also be ready to make a presentation as to why you are his platonic soulmate.

please just agree with him so he won't be sad</3

last but not the least, gossiping.

literally, the two of you will not call it a day if you haven't talked about any issues at all.

so even if you were sleepy, he would call or text you in the middle of the night and be like, 'tea time?'

aaahh imagine how shock i was when i saw that this was about 2k words overall AHAHA. i know that akaashi's part seems a bit off but honestly i just imagine him being a bit mischevious and more open to people he's genuinely close with so yeah! i had so much fun writing but i feel bad becaue it was so long- anyway, thank you for reading!<3

#kaashiboowrites #haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #kenma x reader #akaashi x reader #sugawara x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #akaashi headcanons #akaashi imagines #akaashi fluff #kenma headcanons #kenma imagines #kenma fluff #suga headcanons #suga imagines #suga fluff

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nestasgalpal · 3 years ago

Text

The ball is in his court

Fixing ACOSF Part 8

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: Cassian knows Nesta is supposed to dance with Eris and lure him into a stronger alliance with the Night Court. He knows he's been forbidden from getting close to her during the whole event. He knows she loves to dance. He knows he wants to be the one swinging with her.

A/N: angst because Cassian got very little character development in the book for someone who had that much family drama to deal with. It's not that big of a change as other chapters, but I thought it made sense to add this here with how these three acted in the ball.

Tagging: @gwynriel @zoyaslai @clolikescloquetas @amelievrstr @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector @lordlorcan @esrahiba @queenestarcheron @jemstan300 @nessiantrashh @azrielsgirl @poisonus-bloom @loveadora @frosted-crackers @mireillemystique @pataytayo @968sunflower968 @caram267 @jainadurron @darkshadowqueensrule @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf @niytavia @brainlessfruit @dontgetsalmonella @messyhairday-me @sunsummoner @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @wannawriteyouabook @psychoticminx @misswonderflower @drielecarla @silvernesta @k0ombayamylord @nina-zcnik @arinbelle

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list in the upcoming chapters!!

Cassian stood firmly on his feet as he made Mor spin once again. The House was playing music for them, and in some strange way, he felt it getting annoyed at how many times he had demanded to go- "Again". The waltz had just finished, and he was already positioning himself to start all over.

"Cass, you already know the moves, you've been dancing these for centuries" she laughed it off "I honestly don't think you need any more practice for tomorrow."

"Again" he insisted.

With a sigh, his friend went back to first position, seven feet away from him. The sound the House played for them was more like a trumpet with a shoe stuck in it than the beautiful harmonies they had been practicing with.

"Please, I want to make sure I get it right before we leave for the ball" Cassian gave her his best pout face, which made Mor roll her eyes.

"You are not going to dance with her, Cass. You got clear instructions from Rhys about that. I don't even know why I'm helping you with this, we both heard you are not allowed near her." The House probably felt like Mor was doing a good enough job at remprimanding him for his stubbornnes, because the melody of the waltz started playing again, and they moved to the sound of it. "Gods, you two are already making this way harder than it needs to be with your non-stop fucking" Cassian laughed, but Mor was not in the mood for joking, "This is serious. I heard Rhys complain about how long it took to hide your scent on her." With their palms in the air almost touching, they turned and gave two steps back "Behave." she reminded him of what his role was tomorrow night, and how important it was that he didn't ruin Nesta's mission by approaching her at all.

Cassian smiled again. "I'll try my best".

"Cassian" her tone made clear that she was not amused by the idea of what he may do with with all this dance practice.

"I know, I know. I'll be a good General Commander and stand by my High Lord's side the entire night, while she dances with Eris Vanserra" the lightness with which he spoke did very little to hide the feelings behind it. The jealousy.

Mor let him guide the dance, shadows in her eyes. Their imminent visit to Hewn City must be disturbing her, specially knowing both his father and Eris would be there. The stress of the negotiations with Vallahan was wearing her down as well.

"Why do you insist on going after her?" The sudden dryness she spoke with took him by surprise, and so did the question itself. Nesta and whatever the nature of his relationship with her was, wasn't a topic they ever talked about. For the last couple of years, they avoided the subject, pretending it didn't exist. That's why it felt so odd how mad she seemed to be now without any previous warning that the matter was present in her thoughts at all. That it could disturb her so much, was the most unexpected part of it.

It rubbed him the wrong way, but Cassian kept on moving, the smile in his eyes not fading one bit as he looked into hers to answer.

"Jealous that I'm spending my time with her and not you lately?"

The blonde's gaze pierced through him with a cold disdain he hadn't prepared himself for either. "Not at all. Unlike you, I understand what an order is." Ouch. "I don't blame you for following Rhys' command and babysitting her when he asked you to. She's your job, I guess."

"She is not a job"

"Cassian" His friend hardly ever called his full name. This was now the second time in a matter of minutes.

The conversation was taking a turn he didn't like as a sense of danger that made him on guard sat between them. But it was his best friend talking, his sister, so he ignored his instincts and kept moving to the rhythm. He tried to be graceful and move with precision, imagining it was Nesta's pale hand in his.

"I'm serious. You really need to come back from this recess sooner or later. Better if you choose the former, considering you have a job to do, a role to play as the rest of us do. Her included." The dance required him to spin her twice, an artificial pause in her speech as she twirled on his arms "I'm sure it was fun, but Feyre already revoked the order, so it's time you move on and take things seriously again. You have no idea how bad the treaty with Vallahan is going. We must prepare for the worse, have the armies ready".

"You think being here with her is some kind of vacation?"

The flow of her practiced movements didn't disappear for a second as she dissed Nesta, which was unsettling. Apparently, it came natural to her and putting these thoughts into words required no effort. For how long had Mor been thinking this way about his stay in the House of Wind?

"You sure smell like you are having a good time". Mor gave a step forward to the beat of the orchestra. Cassian didn't follow her movement, their bodies colliding.

It was now making him truly angry. Not just her usual dismiss of Nesta, which he had grown accustomed to, but the little care she was showing for him. He hadn't been working less on Illyria for the past months, his duty with Nesta being piled up on top of his previous responsibilities, and in addition to his new assignments as courtier to cover up her absence. He was working his ass off.

Countless, sleepless nights trying to come up with new ideas to help Nesta weren't something he had told her about, but she certainly knew about the exhaustion they put him through. The fighting, the struggle. Having to finally face how lost she was and stop pretending he had nothing to do with it had been a wake up call. Trying to put the pieces together, a painfully slow process they were still working on. They were achieving it bit by bit... and together, he wanted to think. It had been anything but a vacation.

His biggest regret, however, was printed all over her words, truth slipping through the cracks in the lie he had crafted for himself so long ago. That's why Mor's words hit him like a punch in the guts, because he had actually treated Nesta as a job in the beginning, and Nesta probably had thought the same thing -if she didn't still feel about it like that. A job. Cassian flinched. An order given to him to follow, and not his own decision to sought her and be there for her after the war.

"This is not time off for me, and, again, she is not a job."

Mor wasn't listening, "You need to be honest with yourself, Cass. You need to come to terms with whatever it is your cock feels for that female, and move on."

"You did not just say that" Cassian was speechless.

Knowing what she knows.

Cassian put distance between them and scanned the room looking for a chair, needing to sit down. There was one left alone by the wall where they had pushed it to have more space for their dancing. He sat before he felt his blood drop to his feet, his head uncomfortably light as his sight became dizzy.

Mor hadn't just said that. She would never cross him like that. Denial took over, his trustful self convincing him he just needed a moment to focus. Once he felt better, he would realize her words were only a friend worrying, not an attack on him. She was helping. Mor was always there for him when he needed a friend. She was only trying to give him some advice.

Then why did it hurt so much to hear those twisted truths from her mouth?

"Oh, come on!" she was saying behind him. Mor's words were distant and distorted, as if he were underwater. It took him a moment to understand and process them. "You saw what she became after the war just as clearly as I did. You did nothing about it, just like I did. And we were okay with that, we have our own life, Cass, and she doesn't fit in it. There is another war waiting for us in the corner that threatens to break this moment of happness we've built. For our future, you need to come back to be who you are, the Cassian I know. I miss him."

Once again, the plain truth. He had drifted away like everyone else. They had all decided that space was what she needed, and when that didn't work, it was once again them deciding what to do with the pieces that were left. He had agreed to every plan, convincing himself they knew what they were doing and they knew her better than she did. That they had any right to pick a path for her, the biggest lie of them all.

And now Mor's words were shattering the wall of self-inflicted fabrications he had slowly built while Nesta faded away from his reach. He took in his friend's words, their meaning. What she thought, and some of his friends -family- shared.

It made his heart skip a bit to realize that Nesta probably saw it like that too to this day. He had already accepted his mistakes to himself, he knew before the blonde said it what he had done wrong. Yet Cassian hadn't thought about how his actions were read from the outside. Nobody had called him out on his bullshit. Nobody had interfered -wasn't that what friends were supposed to do? So there it was, the reason why none of them had ever tried to help him smooth things between them: they didn't want him to. Stupidly and blindly trusting his friends would have the respect for him he had proven to have for them, he assumed they were just as blind as he was. Apparently, they weren't, and they had purposefully left her to rot.

Up until now, Cassian hadn't entertained the thought that she most likely didn't let him in because she also considered his presence there a task for him to handle, even if they had grown to be... friends.

That was it -a dead end for them.

No matter how hard he insisted on being there for Nesta now, he had already failed her too many times, and she simply wouldn't allow him to get closer a second time. Not the way he wanted to, at least.

His pulse was in his ears. Or maybe he was hearing again the dreadful noises the house played for them before.

Oh, Nesta.

Had she agreed to the plan because she didn't really care for him watching? Did Nesta not care because she simply didn't want to be anything else than friends in the end? Did she even trust him enough to call what they had a friendship?

A glass of red wine appeared on the table next to him and was it was in his hand a second later. Cassian swallowed its content in one sip. It was refilled instantly. Realization hit him right then and there, that he might be in time to save her, yet too late for what he wanted from her. And his ass would be the only one to blame for that. His cowardice. And how could he hope for a second chance from someone who didn't grant one to herself?

A movement in his field of vision took him out of his trance. Mor, who was carefully approaching him, gave a jump back when he got up from his chair, letting it fall back. The loud noise scared her too.

Those damned reports. He should have never agreed to that stupid idea. Nor to the plan they had for tomorrow night. Yes, she had agreed to it, but maybe if he had asked her not to... No, she would have still done it, convinced it was the only way she would not be seen as a coward.

Who gives a fuck about how anyone sees her. She certainly didn't use to. And he used to love that about her.

But now she clearly did, and was ready to do anything to change how he and his friends saw her. Even seducing Eris Vanserra right in front of him.

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" he asked, defeated at the thought that Nesta was indeed going to allow him to be by her side, but probably where he was right now was the closer he would ever get to tearing down her walls.

Mor looked back at him, marking the way his arms hung by his sides, the picture of a defeated male. She showed no compassion.

"Because I can't forget what she did to Feyre. I still remember the night she told us her story, what she went through. I see her grow every day and I'm reminded of who broke her in the first place. I can't let that slide like nothing." Cassian opened his mouth to say something, not knowing what exactly. He closed it again as Mor lifted a finger to stop whatever words he would have come up with from escaping his mouth. She was angry, "She let her 14 year old sister go wonder the woods next to the Wall all alone. Feyre was a child, Cassian. A kid who had to risk her life on a daily basis because your lover didn't want splinters in her fingernails."

Cassian sighed, tired of a conversation that kept circling back to the same point over and over again. He knew what Nesta's choices had meant to Feyre, but he had seen her regret as well, and what those same choices had done to her. Cassian had seen and heard the forgiveness coming from Feyre herself, her actions a window to what his High Lady needed: to move on. They had talked about it, his friend had opened up to him and she was obviously determined to have her sister back at any cost. And so was him. He was determined to help his friend and at the same time assist Nesta with whatever it was she needed... once she came to terms with what it was.

He had taken her to the old cabin they used to live in and had stand by her side as she scanned the place, finding only bad memories of the person she used to be. She wanted to move on as well. So if the two people involved wanted the same thing, why did their friends keep getting in the way using a wound that was already healing as an excuse.

"But you can forgive Elain?"

"Elain has at least tried to be one of us, Nesta has done nothing since she arrived but be against us."

Cassian laughed at that, a bitter, joyless laugh. "Elain is trying to be our friend, while Nesta doesn't like us. Is that it?" He chuckled again. "Are you telling me that the only reason you pick on her is that she doesn't want to be your friend and you can't just accept that? I thought it was her actions to Feyre in the past, but yes, this makes way more sense now." This time it was him stopping her from talking back, "I can see a pattern there. Isn't that the same reason you don't trust Lucien no matter how hard he works to help us? That he has his own life beyond us?" The volume of his voice went in crescendo as his anger rose to meet hers, "You can't be seriously expecting me to leave her because of a petty fight that only exists in your head."

"It's not just me, Cass. It's all of us. No one likes her, no one wants her around, and we are not having our days ruined every time she shows up so you can fuck her. You are not like this, you are not selfish like that." The indignation simmering in her brown eyes didn't make her an inch scarier to him, the childish reasons for it almost making him consider the argument over, hadn't him been so heated himself. "I want my friend back. And so does Rhys, who can't look at her -or Lucien, for that matter, without being reminded of what his mate went through before he found her."

Cassian snapped.

His siphons glowed scarlet red, goosebumps in his arms from the contained adrenaline rushing through his veins. He screamed at her in anger for the first time in... for the first time in as long as he could remember.

"Don't you dare try to make me feel like I'm a bad friend to Feyre to justify your bigotry. Don't you dare try to convince me that I'm the one hurting others, so I stay in my place while you do whatever the fuck you want and then blame the problems that surface on me. Don't you fucking dare play the victim of this when it's none of your business."

There had been genuine happiness in Feyre's eyes the night Nesta and her decided to give themselves one last chance.

Now Mor was reducing Feyre to nothing but an excuse for her own grudges. She was trying to yield her past suffering as a weapon against her sister, which would make Feyre just as furious as he was. She would never use the damage she experienced to hurt someone she loved, and that was the kind of friend he wanted in his life giving him advice. That was the kind of friend Cassian needed.

He had taken Nesta to the mountains and listened to her cry. He had heard from her mouth how she felt.

Worthless.

She had felt like she didn't deserve to be alive.

And apparently, Mor agreed.

It couldn't be wrong to have sympathy for her. It couldn't be wrong to want her. And he did want her. Cassian wanted everything with her. Was he a bad friend to Feyre for that? How, when his friend wanted the same thing?

"She saved my life twice. She was ready to die with me instead of running away. Does that mean nothing to you?" Above all, what broke Cassian's trust in her wasn't simply her disapproval of Nesta. Rather than that, what Cassian wasn't sure he could forgive was how little care she showed for him. "If you don't like her, that's fine. I don't care, and I can promise you she doesn't either. But don't you dare use Feyre or me as an excuse for it."

"I won't apologize for caring. I won't apologize for protecting my High Lady and my best friend, and the life you really want and deserve".

"At what point exactly did you decide Feyre's happiness was above Nesta's life? Was it after you met her, or had you already ranked your priorities the night Feyre told us about her sisters? Oh, sorry, our priorities, since apparently you know what I want better than I do." Cassian wasn't sure if he would have stopped his ranting right there if he had seen any regret coming from Mor, and he never got to find out. His friend's face was a mask of faked boredom as he spoke. "From all people, I would expect you guys to know what it's like to be perceived by outsiders in a way that's different from who you are as a measure of protection. You simply fail to understand that, for her, we've been the bad guys she has to be wary of since day one. And the reason is precisely that we made our minds clear about her in that fucking dinner party and refused to change it independently of what she did to be better".

He would know about it.

A blank expression was painted on her face. "You need to chill."

"Leave." he ordered. It was no up for discussion. Cassian couldn't even look at her right now. He was fuming and didn't want to say things he would later regret. As he opened the glass doors for Mor, he knew he would, unless one of them left.

"Are you seriously going to let a stupid fight about her get between us?"

It was the way she said her. Like she had said it a hundred times before, like others had pronounced as well, including him not so long ago.

Cassian turned to face the blonde, a special kind of anger glimmering in his eyes.

"Me?!" he screamed. Mor gave instinctively a step back, "Am I going to let it get between us!? You are the one who brought her up, Mor. You are the one who has a problem, and I'm the one pretending you don't trash her at every chance you get, so we can still be friends. I'm not the one letting an argument get between us, for the only thing I've been doing over five hundred years is make everything easier for you. And now, I'm done." Her eyes went wide.

But Cassian was now beyond turning. He had tried to leave and make her go to avoid exactly what was about to happen, "Are you seriously going to let a stupid sister fight only you care about at this point get between me and my happiness? You really despise her so much you would take the chance of being happy with Nesta away from me only to make her miserable?" he spat.

Cassian took a step forward and Mor gave another one back at the same time, recoiling. There was fear in her face as he made his way to her, a kind of fear he had never seen on her features whilst looking at him. "Just look at me in the eye and answer this question, Mor, and I promise there won't be more fights between us for better or worse: Would you rather have me unsatisfied for the rest of my days than have me happy, if that requires her being blissful as well? "

Her silence was too long. It was too damn long.

Cassian spread his wings, the glimmer of his siphons mirroring his anger, and went for the glass doors.

"I only want to protect you." Mor cried behind him. Cassian walked fast, but she was at his heels when he reached the banister, begging him to stop and listen.

One single tear run down her beautiful face. If any other person had made her shed a tear, he would be the first one going after them to make them suffer unimaginable pain. Mor was his best friend, had always been. Cassian thought there was nobody in the world he wouldn't at least beat up for making her sad the way she looked now. But he heard her whimper, saw the hurt, and realized it was too little compared to what she had inflicted on him. On Nesta.

She had gone too far. And at the same time, she was giving him too little.

He turned to face her, needing to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. A part of him refused to believe this was actually happening, wanted to trust in that, once he met her eyes again, he would see regret in her pupils. The hope he had learned from her ages ago making him give her one last look before he aimed for the sky.

Of course, Mor was too stubborn to show any kind of surrender. Too proud to be regretful.

"I am a 500 year old warrior. She is a 25 year old female whose family she can't talk to without pushing them away. And you think I'm the one who needs protection because she is mean to those she doesn't like."

It was not a question. Cassian wanted Mor to hear what her case sound like to him. Before he left, Cassian wanted her to know this was not going to be a short argument and they wouldn't be having lunch together next week. It was a breaking point in their friendship, and he was going to stand on this hill as long as it took, unmoving no matter how many jibes she trowed at him or how many tears wetted her face.

Mor cried in silence, and only because the winter breeze was cooling him down, he didn't get angrier at her for that, at himself, and at the world. Why did they always find a way to make things harder than they should be?

"Wait, please, don't go." The sound of his wings spreading again almost prevented him from hearing her whimper as she said, "I can still teach you one last dance," she murmured. Cassian listened carefully, she didn't dare moving, monitoring his position as if he were a wild animal and she was a rabbit trying to be discrete to not become his prey "There is one gavotte they are likely to play. She is so good at it, you would think she's known the moves for decades and not days."

A temtative hand reached for his arm and stayed there. He had never seen Mor stutter, especially when it came to him. Cassian had always been her best friend, the one who never got mad at her and she could count on. Now she was unsure if he was leaving for the day, or if he was flying away from her for Cauldron knows how long. She didn't tighten her grip on him when he didn't push her away, it remained light and unsure. "I think you already know it, but we can practice that one a couple of times. Just in case you get a chance to dance with her. You'll look great by her side... like it's meant to be".

Cassian noticed his cheeks were wet as well. His gaze burned so fiercely Mor couldn't hold his stare. With anger still painted all over his features, Cassian nodded and followed her inside again.

Mor didn't say a bad word about her for the rest of the evening, and even if he couldn't know where she went afterwards to rant about it, he appreciated her silence.

---

A couple of minutes after her orgasm, Nesta's legs were still shaking. Cassian drove his hand up and down her thighs, feeling her soft skin with the excuse of a massage to help her muscles relax.

He needed to calm down as well -it had been a particularly long day. Nesta had been happy to follow him into his room after dinner, feeling something was off. He had to restrain himself from telling her when she asked about it. First, because he didn't want her to know he was taking dance lessons with Mor. She would know the reason behind it in a second, and he didn't feel like exposing himself like that for a second time that day.

He also couldn't tell her about the argument that hours later still kept his head bussy. He didn't want her to know how frivolously she had been discussed, what both Mor and him had said about her in the same living room where their kisses after dinner had started.

Nesta's breathing was steady, tranquil. His cock was still inside her. He needed to feel her touch. She wasn't in conditions to leave his room even if he came out of her, but Cassian didn't want to give her a chance to get rid of him just yet. He needed her presence there a little longer.

Nesta's fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pressing his head to the crook of her neck. He kissed the soft skin and felt her pulse beat fast against his lips. The path of wet kisses he planted all the way up to the spot behind her ear made her moan.

Cassian felt his blood rushing back to his cock.

With his hands, he cupped her breasts. A sigh escaped her swollen lips, his own closing around a hard nipple. Cassian marked with kisses and playful bites his way down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs. Nesta's let a loud moan escape when his tongue hit with precision her bundle of nerves, drawing circles around it. Teasing her. Making her wetter if that was even possible.

Unaffected by Nesta's pleas, he enjoyed playing with her, his mouth exploring her folds as if wanting to drink her in. Cassian couldn't hear anything, the sinful sounds she let out a song his blood echoed, roaring in his ears. Her hand found his head, her hips clashing against him as she tried to ride his face. Oh, he loved it when she did that, so desperate to have him closer, for his touch to never leave her.

It was his lust what determined every movement his body made, convincing Casian he could reach heaven just by climbing up her hips. Cassian didn't stop until he felt her thighs clench the sides of his head. The hand that held him fixed between her legs became a fist in his hair, encouraging him to keep going, keep licking and keep playing with her most sensitive spot until his tongue took her over the edge one more time.

Yet he hadn't had enough of her. He needed more and more, and after each time they slept together, the urge to have her again grew stronger, as Cassian became more impatient for the next time. Nesta felt the same way, by how her hands found his wings by reaching behind his shoulders and aroused him again. A grin spread through her face when he let his lover play with him in whatever way she pleased. Whatever she wanted from him, Cassian would give.

He climaxed one more time all over her breasts, before he finally renounced to her body. He was content resting by her side, their legs tangled under the sheets.

It was now a matter of time before Nesta left his room.

Cassian's legs tangled with hers. Nesta moved idly against him, making herself comfortable. Their bodies fitted together like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, their breaths the only sound in the room. He could tell she was cold as he once again found himself caressing her arms, pale like porcelain under the moonlight that came through the window. Cassian pulled the sheets to cover them and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Nesta had her walls down. She looked so peaceful curled up against him.

"You don't like us, do you?" even if he whispered the words, they were loud in the silence of the room.

Nesta was fighting to focus her sight, just as tired as he was. "What do you mean?" Oh Cauldron. That raspy voice of hers after sex. Too much moaning for her own good. And he hadn't even enjoyed her throat that night. He had to picture terrible things in his head so his cock would behave and not react to her "that was really great sex" voice.

"My friends and I. The Inner Circle as a whole, you could say." His hand rested in the small of Nesta's back, drawing lazy circles.

She maneuvered to get rid of his touch, sitting up on the bed. The absence of her body against him was painfully obvious. Cassian laid on his back, fighting the impulse to sit up as well. He moved his hands to his nape with faked laziness, as if the question was simple small talk. Yeah... the small talk they never had after sex. Not weird or suspicious at all.

Good job, you idiot. She's not coming to your room in weeks. He cursed himself.

He couldn't withdraw now, it was too late. Nesta's gaze was feline. On guard.

"I don't think I dislike any of you more than you dislike me."

"Hey, I don't dislike you!" he ignored the cautiosness on her tone. He would pretend everything was okay and pray Nesta somehow went with it, "I would say, in fact, that I am very fond of you. And so is Az, for what's worth."

She smiled, a cold grin that didn't seem to fit with the rest of her face, still flushed, eyes glassy and tired. "Then you don't have to worry about it." He said nothing, only kept looking at her. He had learned that, if he waited long enough, she would go on. It could be only to insult him and then leave... but she would go on.

---

Nesta sighed. Where was he going with this? What was she even supposed to respond? No, she didn't like half of them... that if she counted the ones she barely tolerated. But she could sit in the same table as them and be civil. She was even working for them, so why he would bring that up two minutes after he came all over her, was beyond Nesta.

"I thought you didn't care what your friends thought of this" she pointed between the two of them, her gesture just as calculatedly casual as his had been.

A wet washcloth appeared on his nightstand. Nesta mentally thanked the house for her timing. If she was forced to have this conversation, she would rather be clean for it. Nesta rubbed it on her chest, Cassian's gaze following and fixing on her breasts. She cleared her throat, urging him to answer.

"And I don't. I was just curious if you did."

Nesta sigh.

"You've snapped at me before for calling one of you an asshole, Cassian. Do you really expect me to go on a detailed answer on how much I value them and their opinions?" Cassian tightened his jaw, but didn't answer. He waited for her to go on, knowing his silence was pressure enough for her to give in and talk.

If she said she didn't mind what they thought of her, she would be lying. But if she told him she did care, she would be lying as well. It wasn't that simple, a "yes" or a "no".

Nesta cared and worried about their opinions, not because she valued their judgement, but because she was still afraid she didn't have enough power in that Court to face their truth with hers. She had her own thoughts about them, but they didn't have the weight on Cassian one word from any of his friends had.

Nobody ever asked her what she thought of them, because it didn't really matter. Yet everyone expected Nesta to take into consideration what they wanted -who they expected her to be. They had crossed the line in the most disgusting ways to make sure she did the right changes to fit into the mold they had created for her. And Cassian had been a part of it.

Now, from all people, Cassian was asking.

"Don't mention them when we are in bed if you want to see me here again." that was the little bargain power she was sure she had over him. The territory she could claim for herself.

Once again, it took Cassian some time to come up with his own words. Nesta's brain was going a thousand thoughts per minute, reading his face, his body, trying to anticipate where he was going to strike next. He had chosen to bring this up right after sex, when she was slower with her wit. Prick.

When Nesta thought he simply wouldn't answer, Cassian finally sat on the mattress, shoulders down, his body apparently relaxed, his muscles tense and wings tucked in "I know this is just sex, and that's enough for me. I'll take it." As he mouthed the words, Nesta came out of the mist that clouded her thoughts, ready to cover up any crack on her armor. "I just want to know if my friends have anything to do with you not wanting... more."

For that, the answer was yes. She did worry what they thought of Cassian and her being... close, only because she wasn't sure what Cassian would do if they didn't approve of them together.

Nesta didn't care, but she worried what it would mean for her if they asked him to leave. Nesta was sure she meant enough to Cassian for him to put on some resistance. But when push came to shove, if they ever asked him to choose, she doubted Cassian would put her before them.

And she wasn't ready to be broken like that.

There was one thing about Cassian she admired above anything else he had and was, and that was his loyalty. Absolutely unmoving. She saw first-hand how this male loved, so ardently, so unwavering. If Cassian was asked to choose and chose his friends, she wouldn't blame him, she would understand. She had seen him put his life on the line for them without thinking, the act natural to him.

It was knowing that Cassian wasn't the obedient dog others had claimed him to be what would be devastating for her. To be so sure that he didn't feel the need to follow his High Lord to the end of the world.

If he chose them, duty wouldn't be the reason. Cassian would do it because he literally loved them more.

It was precisely that what made her so afraid to let him in. To not know if whatever he wanted from her would ever mean to him as much as the bonds he already had. If there was a chance for him to value it even above those. Because she wouldn't take less.

Nesta couldn't tell him she didn't care what they thought, for it would be a lie. And she couldn't tell him about her reasons either without bearing her heart more than she was ready for. And every time she reminded him -or herself- that it was just sex, she remembered why she refused to give him anything else.

So yes, Nesta cared about what they thought only because she feared them in a way Cassian wouldn't understand. He had defended them against her in the past like he didn't know that side of them existed at all.

Unable to answer, Nesta nodded.

Cassian took in her gesture. At his silence, Nesta practically launched herself out of Cassian's bed, aiming for the door and grabbing her nightgown on her way.

He was there before she could grip the knob. His hand slammed the door to make sure she couldn't open it. Nesta turned on her heels to face him, angry at how aggressive his gesture was. At the audacity to behave like this after she gave him the answer he had asked for, only because he hadn't liked it.

She was trapped between his body and the wooden door, her face an inch apart from his naked chest. Because they were still naked. He banged his head against the door and closed his eyes.

"You know I would give my life for you. In a heartbeat. Without hesitation." Nesta could feel her mouth dry. She couldn't believe he was making a scene about this, considering what her mission the next day. What had happened that afternoon before she came back from the Library to shake him like this? "You know that, right?" Cassian insisted.

She nodded one more time, her forehead brushing his shoulder.

"I know you have good reasons to want them far away from you, Nes, but they are part of my life. My family. When I ask myself what I want in my future, I know I want them in it. We've been through so much together that I really can't picture my life without them at this point. To be honest, I don't want to picture it either."

Nesta's throat burned and so did her eyes, lined with tears. She wasn't ready to listen to this coming from his lips.

"But I want you too, and I don't even know if you think that's possible or if I'm making a fool of myself by trying to go after you."

She was glad Cassian had his eyes closed so he wouldn't see the mess she became as his words hit her. Nesta closed them as well, so the tears didn't come out. "We have a mission tomorrow, Cassian. I need to get some sleep and be well rested."

He didn't move.

"Let's not jeopardy the mission for a question you already know the answer for".

In a matter of hours she was going to be dancing with Eris in Hewn City trying to lure him into an alliance with his beloved friends because they had asked that from her. And she had agreed because the future of the frail political situation they were in depended on it. She needed to focus her mind back on that. She told herself that by doing so, she would forget about his confrontation, and by some miracle he wouldn't bring it up again after that.

"Why did you even accept to help with that plan, Nesta?" Cassian asked again, an angry whisper in her ear.

Because it's worse to stay in my room while you are there with them and wonder if you would vanish away once again if I don't follow all of you wherever you go.

The low light of the lamp threw shadows on Cassian's hazel eyes when he opened them to look straight into hers. They were so beautiful. He stretched his arm to cup her hand, but Nesta hid it in her lap before he could.

His arm hung there for a moment, as if not knowing what to do with it.

Don't worry, Cassian, I'm choosing this for myself. I'll do it. I want to do it.

And in return, she only asked him to keep things casual.

Nesta knew it was unfair to him. She was giving him no choice. It was selfish. But no one expected anything better from her anyway. She was self-absorbed, everyone knew that. It seemed to be her defining characteristic in their eyes from the beginning. No need to change that now. The only thing Nesta was willing to replace was her relationship with herself, with who she was. The only goal in her mind was to be as ready to fight for her life as she was to give it for others. Only then, she would be able to share her heart the way she wanted to. And if he was still around when that happened, she would gladly give him a piece. Just not yet.

It would take time, but he had promised to stay no matter how long it took. He had sworn.

Her voice was too close to cracking. "You should go get some rest as well. Don't think too much about this, Cassian. It's just sex, remember?"

"Just sex" he agreed.

Nesta moved her hands up and carefully placed them on his chest to push him away. He obediently gave a step back, freeing her. She went straight for the door knob and opened it. Nesta exited as fast as she could to turn her back on him before he saw the effect his damned questions had had on her.

"And I have no intention of changing that for my own reasons. Your friends have nothing to do with it."

It's you, she thought.

"So many things are happening to me at the same time," she said instead, "that...I don't even know how to deal with them and not have a breakdown every five minutes. I need you to be the one thing in my life that is easy. Please." there was no point in hiding her weeping anymore. "And I don't need anyone to die for me. I would hate that, actually. I want someone who is going to stay alive and by my side all the way. And that's why you need to let go." Nesta wasn't sure whose heartbeat she was hearing, but it was thundering at an alarming pace.

"I understand" he said. His voice was not her lover's caring tone, nor her friend's easy-going voice. He was putting distance between them, making it impersonal. She didn't blame him, as she did the same thing and closed the door behind her.

She went straight to her room and asked the House to warm up the cold space.

There were no dreams for her that night.

---

On the same room one floor above, Cassian stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to find sleep.

The sun came up before he got to close his eyes, still thinking about what Nesta had asked from him. What his High Lord had asked from him aligning with her request as well. What Mor thought of it all. The ball and Eris being the one to spend the entire night with Nesta Archeron.

He had a job to do, a character to play he knew too well to mess it up even if he had gotten no rest, so that part didn't worry him one bit.

Only when he finally got up with the first rays of sunshine, Cassian came to terms with what he would do that night and how far was he willing to go. If what he wanted for himself was worth risking all the good things he already had, both with his friends and with her.

Maybe it was time to stop being a coward who adapted to the group's needs. Maybe it was time he gave the first step. Or perhaps he would do better waiting, not rushing things and allowing people to come to him whenever they were ready. No. The person he had in mind the entire night and kept him from resting would never go to him, pride and uncertainty preventing her from taking risks with him. Yet one step too far could mean three steps back, and then none of it would be worth it.

Mor was right, he was not being his old self as he took a cold shower, put on his leathers, and flew to the River House to put Rhys' plan for tonight into motion. Cassian was not being the illyrian Commander they had always known when he stepped into Hewn City armed to his teeth and ready to improvise and do absolutely everything his heart asked him to do.

#fix it fic #fixing acosf #nessian #nessian month

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years ago

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The 629/926 tritype and people-pleasing

I read your old post about the Enneagram & people-pleasing (https://funkymbtifiction.tumblr.com/post/184965682165/can-someone-with-primary-or-auxiliary-fi-be-a) and had to laugh at myself about how ALL the numbers in my 926 tritype are motivated to people-please. A triple-whammy of being uncomfortable with conflict, caring a bit too much sometimes about other people’s opinions, and struggling to express one’s own needs. Do you have any tips for dealing with the anxiety/stress this kind of combination can bring, as I remember you’ve mentioned you also share this tritype in a different order? Conversely, do you think there are any strengths/assets to having this tritype? (so I can console myself after all the anxiety 😂). Thank you so much for helping me find my tritype :)

Yeah, it is. I talk about it in depth here.

I think probably the biggest asset for me is – I don’t and never have struggled with holding grudges. I can just forgive people (once I understand what motivated it, per my 6) and move on without harboring any deep resentments. A lot of the people around me struggle to forgive and forget and my anger just kind of … dissipates and goes away, sometimes immediately and other times over a few days or weeks. And believe me, that is an incredible asset, since there’s nothing worse or harder than fighting against being angry or wanting revenge all the time. Cinderella has this tritype and it’s always a wonderful moment for me in the live action film where she forgives her stepmother as she’s going out the door, because – she’s going into a brighter future, why would she carry the burden of past grievances with her?

The negative flip side of this, of course, is that this tritype is self-berating a lot, because it has a continuous desire to be a better person. All the fixes want to be more selfless and generous and strive for something more for themselves, and be kinder to people out of a 2-6 notion of what true goodness is like (less so with an 8 fix on the 9, but if they are 9w1 in particular – there’s all that sense of “moral right” slipping in). All 269 combos can beat themselves up for their mistakes or failures or how they failed a relationship (and it’s their fault) and be wondering why it happened or what went wrong and how they could have fixed it… long after they have forgiven and forgotten the other person’s sins, because they assume relationships are theirs to preserve, treasure, and fix (2). I would say this is the hardest thing to overcome, no matter what the order of your fixes are – this “taking the world onto my shoulders and making it my problem” aspect of relational habits. 269s have to learn that relationships can just fail, it’s not their fault, they don’t have to fix every single one, they don’t need some people in their life, they need to realize and accept that some people are toxic or wrong for them or cannot be fixed or drain their energy, and it doesn’t make them a bad person to walk away from that guilt-free.

This usually is a good-natured tritype that wants to be happy – but unlike the 279 isn’t in denial about the bad things, just doesn’t want to over-think about them. 2 and 9 together are always wanting to see the beauty of life, and focus on pleasant things, but 6 is also cautious and fearful. Altogether, it makes for probably the most pleasant (for other people) tritype to be around, because of the universally forgiving, generous, and sweet disposition – but to put it bluntly, we can be too nice, too forgiving, and too willing to help. How you start to unpack your type is by starting with the fixes. For you, 6 and 2 are lower, which means you can learn to consider them “optional.” In other words, it’ll be easy for you to notice 6 projections and anxieties and talk yourself out of them. For 2, you can ask yourself whether it’s really your place or duty to “help” this person, or if they can do it for themselves. 2 fixers can learn to let people be independent and take care of themselves, rather than rushing to do it for them. You can also work through the uncomfortably self-exposing 2 questions of “am I doing this just so they will like me?” Or “Am I angry at them because they don’t ‘do unto me’ the way I do unto them? Because I expect some payback in kind for my efforts?” I realized I was 2 fixed the day I was mad at my best friend for not being supportive of me in the way I needed, but also realized I had never specifically told her what I wanted her to do, I had just been “doing” that for her, hoping she would pay me back in kind. And then I 2w1ishly beat myself up about it. (You shouldn’t WANT or NEED things from your friends! You SHOULD be selfless and loving with no return!) Meh.

Regarding people-pleasing, you should seize your autonomy and realize that for most things, it is optional and you can say no without causing too much strife. I still want to people-please some, but over time people start taking advantage of you and that causes resentment in being used, and at some point, you start getting sick of it and start laying down more boundaries. I had one friend who would always appeal to me to spend time with her, even though I was busy and had other projects going – and I would guilt-trip myself into saying yes out of a 2ish self-talk (she needs you, she’s lonely, she has no other friends who live here, you can take time off to be with her) … but I realized over time (and over the pandemic) that… she has actually managed to survive without me, she has gone weeks at a time without seeing me and not curled up and died of neglect, she can wait to see me until I am my best self, not a tired version of myself who has dragged myself to see her out of guilt rather than a desire to connect. Before I started telling this person, “I can’t, I’m busy this week” she knew she could lean on me, be a little whiny about feeling lonely, and I would squeeze her in – now she knows when I say I am busy, she has to wait. And that’s good for us both.

People deserve your best self, not your guilt-tripped self – and don’t let them whine or plead or infer or guilt-trip you into things you don’t want to do. Say no and mean it. That’s the best advice for this trype or any type with 9 as a central focus – stand firm, set out a boundary, and defend it. If you are busy, say you are busy. Don’t give excuses, or over-explain, just say you cannot do it. If people push you, reaffirm “I’m sorry, I know, but I can’t.” Sooner or later, they quit because they know they can’t bully you into doing something for them.

Whatever your core is, is going to be the hardest thing to get under control. If it is 2, it’s going to be image-seeking, attention-grabbing, and invasive ‘helping’ whether that is to do physical things for people or offer unsolicited advice to help them cure their life problems. If it is 9, it is going to be numbing yourself out to conflict, refusing to assert your own wants and needs, and letting things go when you should address them (getting in touch with your anger). If it’s 6, it’s going to be over-thinking, being fearful-avoidant of attachments and sending people mixed signals, and projecting (”I’m anxious about not being wanted, so I KNOW they are going to reject me and are sending me negative signals!”). I fight the latter all the time and it’s HARD, so I won’t pretend getting over your core is a picnic, and anyone who says they have “aced it” and are now “a healthy version of their type” is either mistyped or a liar. We’re all wallowing in ourselves.

It’s funny, I can sense when someone else or even a fictional character has this tritype, because I see a lot of myself in them – not in a Fi way, but in a tritype way. They say you understand best people who share your struggles and what you want to be per your tritype’s focus and needs and it’s true. I can sniff out a 269 anywhere.

#question #mbti #269 #962 #629 #692 #926 #296 #tritype #submission

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nillegible · 4 years ago

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Mo Xuanyu notices someone following him on his way back to Mo manor one night. It's not a villager, they wouldn't walk so lightly. Mo Xuanyu would hazard a guess that it's not a cultivator, either, heaven knows they would have attacked him hours ago for harassing and frightening the villagers as he has been. Curious, he melts into the shadows.

"Ghost of the Yiling Patriarch?" asks a soft voice, closer than Mo Xuanyu had expected.

It's a familiar voice; and when he looks to where it came from he sees a young man he’d met often at Koi tower, crying to his broth Jin Guangyao, not knowing exactly how cruel his San-ge truly was.

"Sect Leader Nie," says Mo Xuanyu, approaching Nie Huaisang where he stands in the patchwork darkness beneath a tree.

Nie Huaisang stares for a long moment, then says, "Mo Xuanyu."

"Expecting the Yiling Patriarch?" asks Mo Xuanyu, not without some bitterness. It's all that his father had wanted out of him as well, he had ignored him in favor of Xue Yang who barely even tried to understand the Yiling Patriarch's incredible mind. Xue Yang had been more interested in re-animation and puppetry than the magic, the theory, and that was just pitiful.

But that kept him safe, and where was Mo Xuanyu now? Back with his mother’s brutish family, barely clinging to his sanity, and amusing himself by pretending to be the ghost of a demonic cultivator more than a decade gone.

"I could have used Wei-xiong's help, yes," says Nie Huaisang simply. It makes Mo Xuanyu look closer. Nie Huaisang is drawn, and pale, but he stands straighter than he ever has at Koi Tower. Some instinct tells him that this man, here, is dangerous. Mo Xuanyu, the 'mad village fool' understands.

Perhaps Nie Huaisang is no more a weak fool than he is. Hidden depths, Sect Leader Nie.

It's because of the way Nie Huaisang says Wei-xiong with more respect than anyone Mo Xuanyu has ever heard, it's because Mo Xuanyu has seen Nie Huaisang's beloved brother's head locked away like a curiosity among Jin Guangyao's other war prizes, it is because Mo Xuanyu is sick and tired of the world and wants to burn it all down, that he says, "I've studied some of his work. Would I do?"

[read on Ao3, or click below to read on tumblr]

Sect Leader Nie accepts his offer, tells him that he’ll get in touch, but does not explain himself or what he wants. He is really really good at giving non-answers, at batting those pretty eyes of his and pouting (he carries a fan. Every quirk of his lips that isn’t hidden is calculated, is intended to be seen).

He also keeps his promise and visits again in the dead of night, nearly a week later. He brings with him notes on different sorts of monsters. Some are generic and some are intriguing. None of them seem like the sort of thing that would require the help of the Yiling Patriarch, but Mo Xuanyu talks him through the techniques and banishment methods that would be required for each class of monsters or demons.

It feels like an assessment. He wonders what happens if he passes.

Just a few years ago Mo Xuanyu wouldn’t have noticed the details, but he’s been thinking about Jin Guangyao a lot, recently, and he’s worked out enough of how he had been played to see someone else using similar techniques.

Why hasn’t Jin Guangyao realized that you’re dangerous? he should ask, but instead he tells Nie Huaisang about the time WWX had written about redirecting yao into helping in a fight against a demon, and how he seemed never to have revisited that idea again.

“That would be dangerous,” says Nie Huaisang.

Mo Xuanyu smiles at him, “He was the Yiling Patriarch, I don’t think he minded.”

“No. Wei-xiong was never afraid of danger,” Nie Huaisang agrees. That again. “Thank you for the advice, Young Master Mo. Shall we meet here next week?”

“Isn’t this a little far out of your way, Sect Leader Nie?” asks Mo Xuanyu.

“Ah, for help of the sort that Young Master Mo can provide, it is not a bother.”

“Have the peerless Gusu Lan stopped supporting other sects in need? That Sect Leader Nie would cross Gusu to approach this humble one for help…” It’s a good lead in, Nie Huaisang can laugh it off or tell him what he really wants.

Then another thought strikes him, so he giggles, “Or can it be that Sect Leader Nie has need of a cutsleeve whore with no options, and thought to try his luck?” Mo Xuanyu bats his lashes, desperately missing the little fineries he’d grown used to at Koi Tower. He probably looks a mess and can’t quite pull it off, now.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widen, round with surprise, “Ah, Young Master Mo, that’s not it! It really isn’t, I have. I have a specific problem but it will be a source of great shame if it comes out that Nie Sect couldn’t solve it without depending on Lan sect or Jin sect… they already do so much for my Sect.”

The bitterness is barely perceptible, but it is there. He wonders if Jin Guangyao is the reason for the distrust between GusuLan and QingheNie, too. It gives him a flicker of hope, “If I could be of more use to Sect Leader Nie in Qinghe I would be willing to–”

“No!” says Nie Huaisang. “We can’t show that we’ve met.”

Oh. “Is this because I said – I don’t actually want to sleep with you, Sect Leader, I’m not really an animal, whatever my brother has said.” Of course he hadn’t pulled off charmingly flirtatious, what had he been thinking? If he’d been prettied up it could have been enough to fluster Nie Huaisang, now he’d probably just been disgusted at the thought.

“I do not think that of you, Young Master Mo. But Jin Guangyao cannot know that we’ve met. I’m sorry that I cannot take you with me. But I can use your help. May I please meet with you a week from now?” asks Nie Huaisang.

It sounds more genuine this time.

It’s still a no. “My cousin beats me. I’m fed once a day, alongside the donkey, I sleep in the stables. Sect Leader Nie… please.”

“Mo Xuanyu, I –” he looks up into Nie Huaisang’s face, and sees only pity. No surprise or horror.

“But you knew that didn’t you?” asks Mo Xuanyu softly, and sees the truth in Nie Huaisang’s face. Of course he knew. Of course he’d come in the night to get what he needs from him, but not help him in return. Maybe he’ll give Mo Xuanyu a pouch of coins in the end. Coins that no-one in the village would take from him, would accuse him of stealing from his aunt and cousin. And once Mo Ziyuan heard, he’d be beaten for it and never see the money again.

Get lost, then, Mo Xuanyu should say, because he is tired of being used and cast away. But he truly has nothing, and another visit… someone to talk to who at least speaks to him like he’s human… Mo Xuanyu has so little that he can’t turn down even scraps like this.

“I will see Sect Leader Nie next week,” Mo Xuanyu says. “You can bring me the notes for the real problem. If I cannot solve it, I’ll tell you that, I won’t con you with some fake ritual.” He makes to leave, but Nie Huaisang stops him.

“Is there something else I could do for you?” asks Nie Huaisang. “I can pay you, in cash or weapons – I heard that your sword was taken from you before you left.”

“Sweet buns,” he says, before he can think it through. His stomach speaking before his pride could stop him. He prays that it sounded sarcastic and not desperate.

“What?” asks Nie Huaisang.

“Go away, Sect Leaser Nie,” he says. Mo Xuanyu isn’t going to repeat himself, isn’t going to beg for sweet buns, of all things.

A hand grasps his shoulder and Mo Xuanyu recoils, pushing him away so fast that he unbalances himself, stumbling and falling heavily to the ground. It sends a shock to his still healing ribs, making him gasp for a moment before he can regain his breath and look up at Nie Huaisang, who has his hands out, open to show he mans no harm.

“Mo-gongzi, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I didn’t think.” He’s rummaging in his sleeve and Mo Xuanyu wonders if now is when he should run away to save his own life.

Maybe if he cared about his own life, he would.

Instead he just watches, until Nie Huaisang pulls a small paper parcel from his sleeve. He kneels down, and offers it to Mo Xuanyu.

He opens the paper, to find three sweet buns inside. They’re still warm. He takes one and returns the others, and takes a bite. He’s finished, it and resisting licking his dirty fingers to chase down the last of the sweetness – he hadn’t had anything sweet since the local temple gave out sticky buns during the last festival. The priests had turned him away – disgusting, aberrant, abomination, but some of the boys had made a game of tossing buns at him, and they’d tasted wonderful after he scraped the dust off.

“Keep them,” says Nie Huaisang, pushing the package back towards him. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just startled that you asked for the one thing I had up my sleeve.” The smile is hesitant and drops off quickly. He just looks sad. Tired.

“Thank you,” Mo Xuanyu whispers, because he still has manners. He’s not going to cry over just two sweet buns, but his eyes sting as if he might. “Is this about…” he swallows the words back. Don’t be stupid, A-Yu, but Nie Huaisang doesn’t look angry. “This is about Chifeng Zun, isn’t it?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” asks Nie Huaisang voice sharper.

“His head,” says Mo Xuanyu, and can’t hold the tears back. “His head is at Koi Tower. Why do you think I’m here? Why do you think that I… for a bun. Jin Guangyao tried to kill me because I found out and. Three buns.” He laughs while he cries. He’d never realized how cheap he would become. I am so sorry, Mother.

A pale green handkerchief is produced from the same sleeve, and Nie Huaisang holds it out to him. “I will speak to you next week, Mo-gongzi. I’ll bring you food. I’ll help. It’s late, I need to go now. But trust me, please.” When Mo Xuanyu doesn’t move to take it from him, Nie Huaisang takes his free hand and presses it into it. “Good bye, Mo-gongzi,” he says, and this time he gets up and walks away.

Mo Xuanyu doesn’t move until the footsteps are long gone. He traces the delicate embroidery on the handkerchief. Pine trees in deep greens, a stream nestled within it.

It’s too beautiful to cry on, so he wipes his face on his sleeve instead. Shortly before dawn he gets up and brushes some of the dirt from his robes, and rushes back to the manor. He needs to start on his chores or he’ll be in for a worse beating than usual.

In the light of day it feels surreal.

Was that really Sect Leader Nie?

Was that someone that Brother sent to see what I am up to? To see what I'd do?

If that was Jin Gunagyao, then Mo Xuanyu wouldn’t have long left to live. Not if he's leaking secrets the way he is.

(He wishes he'd come himself, that he'd have a chance to defend himself, a chance to live. But. He has never played fair, and wouldn't start now.)

Mo Xuanyu would give nearly anything to kill his brother first.

Three days later, Madam Mo hires a new kitchen-girl. She has friendly eyes and a green ribbon in her hair.

That night when Mo Xuanyu heads to the stables to sleep with the donkey, he finds a blanket, a portion of the food that his cousins and aunt had been served, and a small pot of medicine.

There is dinner every night after, he sees the new kitchen-servant sneak it out at dusk. She's terribly good at sneaking, and Mo Xuanyu is grateful to have food again. He's been eating stale vegetables and uncooked grain with the donkey for months.

Four night later, there's a person waiting for him siting cross legged on the floor of the stable, lit by a small lantern. Mo Xuanyu's dinner waits for him beside him on the hay.

"Now will you tell me what you really need?" asks Mo Xuanyu, lifting the lid off the bowl. Soup, still steaming hot. He'd found the talismans carved into the bowl to keep it that way yesterday.

"I was wondering," says Nie Huaisang. "Can Mo-gongzi play the flute?"

#mo xuanyu #nie huaisang #mdzs #mxy #nhs #au: canon divergence #the soul summoning array doesn't exist #tw: canonical abuse

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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time to be sappy!

hi my lovelies! i’m wishing you all the happiest new year for 2021. without going into too much detail, we all know how much this past year has sucked. that’s honestly the only way to describe it. it’s absolutely sucked. but i know that one thing we’ve learned is to find the light in the darkness, and it’s something i’ve really been trying to focus on as we navigated and continue to navigate our way through this pandemic.

at the beginning of the year, i was in a writing slump. i was going through some personal stuff that honestly knocked the wind right out of me. i didn’t think i’d ever find the energy to write ever again (and it’s my favorite thing to do; it keeps me sane). i was so drained of energy and love of myself that i wanted to say “fuck it” and give up writing altogether. but then, by a miracle, i found some lovely individuals, and you guys re-sparked my love of the thing i need to do in order to make me who i am. write.

there are so many people i need to thank so here we goooooo

@theweasleysredhair chloe! i remember before the twins got insanely popular on here, you were always one of the writers that stuck out to me. we started chatting back and forth and commenting on one another’s fics. and then you’d decided to take a break from tumblr. i didn’t know if you were coming back (and not to be dramatic but i was heartbroken) and THEN YOU DID and we honestly picked up exactly where we’d left off. now we freak out about one another’s stories, cackle like actual idiots at the magic that is impractical jokers, but it goes much deeper than that. we share life stories, offer advice to one another, and you’re always there for me when i need someone. and good god, girl, you can make me laugh. i hope you know that whenever i hear the word “forty” i think of you and scream FOEH in my head. so grateful for you, i can’t even explain it. also SCOOPSKI POTAYTAHS lmao love you

@harrysweasleys alexa i don’t even know how to adequately express how much you mean to me. i can’t even pinpoint when exactly we started talking deeply about anything and everything, but now our friendship spans countries and dimensions and more and i’m just so fucking thankful that we’re friends. you’re one of the kindest people i’ve met on here and i’m just so blessed to know you, write with you, freak out about books with you (even when i bring them to the post office with me LOL) and everything in between. thank you for choosing me to write a collab with. you are wildly talented beyond your years and i hope you always keep writing, because you have a gift with your storytelling. i just adore you.

@wand3ringr0s3 HALEY. you little ball of fire, you. i can’t even begin to describe how much your sarcasm absolutely slays me in our daily chats. you always have me laughing like an absolute fool and i’m so grateful for it. i know that we’re nine years apart (ew) (pls i feel so old ugh) but i feel like we’re so close in age. thank you for always being honest, voicing your thoughts and opinions, sharing stories, encouraging us to share ours, and for always, always providing the greatest, hottest, highest quality photos of The Men in the GC for us to thirst over. thank you for being you, for being hilarious, for being kind. thank you for writing the stories that you do -- your creativity knows no bounds and that’s something that’s really freaking special about you as a writer (aside from your overall general talent to break my heart) i adore you. keep shining babe.

@diary-of-an-onliner okay thea, you are honestly an enigma and i mean that in the GREATEST way possible. i absolutely never know what you’re thinking or what you’re going to say, but i know it’s going to get me wracking my brain and thinking hard or absolutely losing my shit and laughing on the ground. you never fail to put a smile on my face with your quips. i absolutely freaking adore you. AND ALSO, YOUR WRITING IS FLAWLESS, so if you ever want to share more of it, you know i’ll absolutely read it and 110% freak the fuck out, because you’re a talented little bean. remember head in the clouds/feet on the ground? because i do, and i’m honestly still cracking up about it, and cannot wait for it (if it’s still a thing). I LOVE YOU

@harrypotter-and-the-onering LINDA. i don’t think i can express with enough words just how sweet and genuine you are. whenever i see you in the group chats, it puts a smile on my face, because you always slide in with the SWEETEST COMMENTS and my heart just melts at them. i know we don’t really chat outside of the GCs much, but i’d like to change that, because i really do adore you. you’re such a bright light in this community, to out friend group, and to everyone who has the pleasure of being in your presence. you’re a beyond talented writer and i hope you continue to write more in the new year! also, whenever i eat swiss chocolate, i’ll think of you LOL

@andromedaa-tonks okay mia, my girl, you’re a solid ten years younger than me but somehow we act like we’re twins, exactly the same age, and i’m here for it! we’ve ranted to one another a lot about heartbreak and love, how frustrating it can be, how difficult it is to find, how much we yearn for love that’s true and lasting. we’ve had our fair share of difficult conversations about it but it’s really helped me to realize exactly what i want, and i hope it’s helped you too. also thank you for always indulging me when i rant to you about hot lifeguards on the beach LMAO (it’s winter and they’re not here and i’m mad, don’t they know i want to stare at them??? smh) thank you for being you. i love you. and you’ll find that love babe.

@mycupoffanfiction ellie, my deary, you sweet girl, you. i think you’re just about the nicest freaking human being i’ve ever met. i cannot think of a time where you haven’t greeted me with anything less than exuberance and excitement. i hope you know how much it means to me! and the comments you leave on my stories? they honestly bring me to tears. i cannot express what that means to me; there have been so many times when i’ve felt that my writing isn’t good enough to be able to publish anything, but you’ve reminded me with your kind words that my writing just needs to find the right reader, and for that, i cannot thank you enough. thank you for sharing your stories and your friendship, i am beyond grateful for them both, and i adore you so very much!

and to those i might not talk too as often, a few things: 1) please let’s chat 2) i’m apologizing in advance because I SUCK (like actually suck) at answering messages and it’ll probably piss you off and i’m so sorry 3) i’m v nervous and shy so pls feel free to ~slide into my DMs~ anytime because i’m awkward and probably won’t do it first LOL 4) i adore you all 5) i see your comments on my writing and i CANNOT. CANNOT. cannot thank you enough. it brings me to tears every time i read them, so thank you x

@fopdoodledane @vogueweasley @pit-and-the-pen @thoseofgreatambition @izzytheninja @acciotwinz @starlightweasley @theweirdsideofstuff @pigwidgexn @whiz-bangs78 @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @thisismysketchbook @jenniweaslee @chaoticgirl04 @writesowhatnext @loony-loopy-lupinn @boxofbadaddiction @immobulusmalfoy @cappsikle @oh-for-merlins-sake @godricsswords @valwritesx i’m surely forgetting people omg i’m so sorry i really am

thank you, all of you, for all of the wonder and imagination and magic and kindness you’ve all brought me. ALSO IT’S LATE AND I’M TIRED AND IF I FORGET ANYONE I AM SO, SO, SO SORRY I JUST SUCK ok love y’all

#erica blogs #im sappy #happy new year you hooligans #I LOVE YA

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rhiezus · 4 years ago

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Special Q&A with Moon Nayoung.

now that you’re not an actress anymore, the world is dying to know: what is moon nayoung doing?

what a pesky devil of you. it’s not like i’m very busy but it’s not i want to be busy, so eating well, sleeping well, travelling, picking different hobbies, spending a lot of time on youtube. i’m unemployed, but gladly.

do you ever plan on acting again?

noo, i loved acting but that phase of my life is over. i am ready to be myself and no else for quite some time. i encourage acting though, it’s an exercise and it was an experience.

we saw your cat a lot on your social media, what’s is their name?

oh, when we started this i was crossing my fingers thinking: please talk about my cats. in all forms expect physical, i’m a cat. so i found manwol in a shelter, she looked me in the eye suspiciously and i thought “she is testing me”, so i took her home to complete her task. she is always watching me, i don’t know if like a affectionate way, however she is very jealous of the people around me and for that reason i think we identify with each other. i don’t remember my boyfriend’s cat names though, he has many and they just keep adding, i just call them what i feel like calling them and they always answer, it’s like an unspoken connection.

when are you and keun getting married though?

it’s that a thing you’d like to see? think we should live it for the world and charge a few to enter the livestream?

what’s the most used app on your phone?

it’s between my yoga app, subway surfaces and piano tiles. people often underestimate how good i am with phone games, not that i am bragging but i’ve had years of boredom and that adds to the experience.

we heard you like cooking, what’s your favorite dish to cook right now?

my favorite thing to cook... is spaghetti, there is like a hundred ways to do them differently and i love noodles. garlicky spaghetti, vegetable spaghetti, crock-pot spaghetti, the famous carbonara... there is baked spaghetti, it’s one of my favorites, chicken spaghetti, there is even a million dollar spaghetti that’s great and super easy. but last week i aced the tagine, it’s from maroccos. fun fact is most people think the word tagine is the meal itself but tagine is actually the cookware used to cook the meal. the reason for using a tagine is to make a dish tender and bring out its natural flavors.

what’s the place you want to travel the most?

i would love to go somewhere on the american continent, because their food is rich and it’s very different from asia but at the same time i don’t like travelling for long periods and spending too much time on a plane. i would like to see mexico or argentina, maybe even cuba too.

which of your friends are you most proud of? and why?

i don’t have that many friends, it’s not that hard to choose between them. the one that most accomplished things this year was bonghu, but that’s mainly because she got pregnant and i admire her nerve. she is a great friend, mom, person, woman and all in general so that makes me proud.

what’s the song you sing along when you hear it?

ring ring.

who is the last person you texted? and what as the text about?

it was my friend group, i send a bear emoji with a blinking heart. i can’t recall what was the conversation about, it just called for a cute bear emoji.

how is your morning routine?

i wake up, look into my phone for like fifteen minutes to an hour (there is no in-between), i go pee and take a shower, do my skincare, feed the cats, cook breakfast, eat breakfast, go jogging or hit the gym. now in quarantine i would do yoga at home, but since it’s better now i just go jogging again. and that takes about my whole morning.

who was your first celebrity crush?

i think it was patrick swayze, but also harrison ford.

what’s on your mind like right now?

this. i mean? what else? i don’t know.

what do you spent way too much money on?

masterclass online classes! i find it so interesting even though i know i don’t have the vocation of being a professional in that area, i mean... it’s just so great. i started paying for gordon ramsey’s classes, because i love that man but now i think i’ve even seen natalie portamn, anna wintour and even usher’s classes.

what’s the most cringy worthy thing you’ve seen someone post on social media?

i’m not one to judge cause all i have are cats and food, and that’s the most cringy worthy you can ever get on social media but i hate when people do this long captions like, no one is gonna read it and they know it but they just do that too sound smart and meaningful. i mean there’s nothing you can really say that can’t be said in private, right? i don’t know.

what was the last show you binge-watched?

finished you a few days ago, don’t know if it was worth it, but i did it anyways. there was stranger too, season two was very well done.

what is your favorite item of clothing?

my favorite item of clothing? hm, i think is black high waist pants because one) it’s comfy. two) it’s cheap. 3) it goes with anything in your wardrobe. 4) and with any weather or mood.

what are you passionate about?

i think... i’m passionate about just living, i mean. focusing on the present feeling and go from there, you know?! no need to be anxious about things you can’t see, while being responsible about the things you do right now and just work with that, like, make your lemonades.

what’s the best part of your 20′s? what are you taking from this age?

hm. there is a lot of figuring out, from yourself and from others, nothing is certain and everything is fragile but also soothing and exciting. like there is many things i wanna do but also i don’t feel like doing, it’s a contradictory age that’s just hard to understand. i was not one to feel nostalgic or regret things, but as you get older you start to do that and you have to remind yourself that is a way to learn and be better. so for me, the best part is truly looking at yourself differently everyday, changing is inevitable so you have to keep remembering who you are and what you stand for in order to keep going. i hope that i am taking a better person from this. also make good friends, that’s probably the best advice and best part of your 20′s.

who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

i don’t have many deep conversations, i am more the type that listens. but when i do it’s just thoughts, like now in this interview. so probably my last deep conversation is this, because you’re asking me things that are hard not to be deep about.

best advice you received from someone.

advice’s can be fragile and change from time to time, so the only one i think is right is about being kind to others, that sounds basic but that’s because it’s suppose to be.

what’s the one food you can’t bring yourself to eat?

funny enough, i don’t like egg. like fried egg, i mean if it’s in the food and as an ingredient, i don’t really mind but as a meal itself... i don’t really like it. i don’t care for tofu either, i can eat it though.

if you were in a band, what kind of music would you play?

i would go for r&b but it would become popular quick so i’d have to make it pop but with still a little r&b vibe, know what i mean? but i can’t really sing, or play any instrument.

if it would have a movie about your life, what would be the title?

did you listen to folklore, the taylor swift album? i came across mad woman, and i really like that song, i think something like that... it doesn’t need to be something big and meaningful, just moon nayoung it’s fine. but i don’t want a movie about my life, there is many other important stories to tell.

do you believe in astrology?

i don’t really have an opinion. i’m a sagittarius, who are suppose to be really free spirits, curious and idealistic, which i don’t know if it’s me or not. so i think is funny but i don’t really care.

do you consider yourself romantic? what’s the most romantic gesture you have done?

me? i don’t know. i don’t think i do things in name of romance, i do them because i want to. that sounds sooo bitter, but i swear it’s not! i may be a romantic though, but i am not hopeless, at least not anymore. cooking for your partner counts as big romantic gesture? cause i’ve done that a lot.

what was your favorite book as a child?

peter pan and little women. i probably didn’t wanna grew up, right?!

do you prefer baths or showers?

i like both, but i prefer showers because it takes less time and it’s more practical. cold showers in the summer all the way.

tell something you learn that you wish more people would too.

pay your bills before due date, mark them on your calendar or something and try to pay them before it’s due. even if it leave you broke for a few days, if you take your time it will only make you more lazy and it will become a habit.

now leave us with a secret that no one knows about you.

there is not much people don’t know about me anymore and if there is, that’s the reason why it’s a secret, am i right? but maybe i call tell you that i already cheated on a text or something, cause that’s all i have for you. sorry.

#haaa #happy birthday moon nayoung!!#isso estava nos meus drafts ha um tempo #é besta e simples mas #é um presente #de mim pra ela #e dela pra voce #parabens minha aposentada <3 #eu nao sei como vc é meu char #but i am just happy you are #you taught me a lot #so thank u #nayoung.

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flooffybits · 4 years ago

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Girls’ Generation forgetting their anniversary

Request: Yes

Anon: SNSD reaction to forgetting their anniversary with their SO Pls?

Taeyeon:

While she’s busy working on her solos and the group’s performances, Taeyeon wasn’t able to manager her time when it came to her personal life. She’s been so swamped with work that she fails to notice your text, asking her on when she was coming home for you date.

The hours pass and she still hasn’t left the company and your texts have all been left unread until she checks the time. Taeyeon’s eyes widened when she saw that it was nearing midnight and she saw your last text, which was an hour ago stating that you were headed to bed. Springing to her feet, she quickly left the company and drove to your shared apartment as fast as possible, without breaking the law. When she arrives, she’s immediately heading to the bedroom and her heart sinks when she sees you curled up in bed with your back to the door, refusing to look at her.

Taeyeon quietly walked over before getting on the bed, her arms wrapping around you as she pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I know you’re upset with me and you have every right to be. I’m so sorry that I let work take my attention and forget about our anniversary.” She whispered softly, her hand rubbing your arm before she felt you slowly relaxing.

“You didn’t even reply to my texts, Tae.” She sighs and nods her head. “I know. I’m really sorry.” She was going to have to make it up to you and it’ll probably take her a while to get your forgiveness, but she swears that she’ll do better.

Jessica:

Being the CEO of her own company, Sooyeon was very busy with meeting clients, reading her emails and checking the reports sent by her employees just so she could keep B&E afloat. It didn’t help that she’s being demanded everywhere and needing to attend galas and parties just so she could expand her business.

It was taking up too much of her time and she had to fly out, yet again. She passed by you quickly and you blinked while watching your girlfriend fix her luggage before asking her what she was doing. “I’m sorry, but I have to get to Paris before the weekend for an event.” She apologized and you immediately frowned while crossing your arms. “And when do you plan on coming back?” She struggles to answer when she rifles through her closet. “I don’t know, babe, but I’ll probably be gone a while.”

When you didn’t respond, the brunette looked back to see the disbelieving look on your face. “What?” She asked confusedly and shake your head. “I know you’re busy, but god, to actually forget our anniversary?” The last word triggers something in her and she gasps while looking at the calendar. “I can resched-”

“Save it.” She wasn’t sure what to do, flinching as the door shut behind you and she ran a hand frustratedly through her hair before quickly calling her secretary.

Sunny:

It’s been a while since Sunkyu has seen any of her friends and when Sooyoung texts her about a get together, she wastes no time in saying yes and for the rest of the week, that was all she was looking forward to, unaware of what you were preparing for your anniversary.

When Friday comes, you’re surprised to see your girlfriend dressed and getting ready to head out. Confused, you ask her about it when she grabs her bag and she beams a smile. “I’m going to see the girls for a get together, so I might be home late.” She explains and then goes to kiss your cheek while you were left rooted in place. “I love you!”

The rest of the night, Sunkyu was having a great time with the other girls but she couldn’t help the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right. She tried brushing it off, but eventually Yuri noticed her troubled expression. “Yah, what’s with the look? Did you and Y/n fight or something?” At your name, the shorter woman suddenly gasped and looked at her phone. “It’s our anniversary!” The girls didn’t stop her as she excused herself, apologizing for having to leave so soon and they just assured her that it was alright.

When she gets home, the house is eerily quiet before she calls out your name, but still there’s no answer. Looking to the bedroom, she frowns when she doesn’t see you anywhere before giving you a call, but the person that answers is your friend, saying that you weren’t exactly sober enough to be on your own. While your friend drives you back to her, she’s thinking of all the ways she can do to make up for forgetting your anniversary.

Tiffany:

Dating Miyoung wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. The woman is demanded in so many magazines, companies, and shows so seeing her was very scarce until you both decided to move in together. It wasn’t rushed, but the one time she spent the night with you after a long time apart had her made up her mind to just move in. And you had no complaints.

On your second anniversary, you asked her siblings for what would be the best way with surprising your girlfriend and they waste no time in sending you suggestions. So on the day itself, you were fixing up the apartment, hanging some decorations and then balloons with your pictures on them. It was a cheesy thing to do, but your girlfriend was a romantic.

At that time, Miyoung had met up with Taeyeon in regards with the upcoming event they had. She was so busy with what she was reading and when Taeyeon suddenly spoke up, she lifted her head to listen properly to what the latter was saying. “Aren’t you going home soon?” She asked curiously. “No plans?” Furrowing her brows, the raven haired woman tried wracking her brain for anything she might have planned with you before her eyes widened. She jumped out of her seat and quickly hugged her friend. “I have to go home! See you!”

Entering the little home you both had, her mouth opened in awe at all the decorations that was spread about, but when she saw you fast asleep on the couch, her heart sank before walking over to wake you.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

Hyoyeon:

Since she’s been so busy preparing and promoting for her new song, you understood that your girlfriend would be very busy. She was thankful that you were understanding of the position she was in and promised to make up for the lost time.

But the one time you couldn’t just excuse her absence was when she had blown you off on your anniversary date. You called her numerous times and when she finally answered, she had the audacity to be annoyed with you. “You know what, I’ve been quiet the whole time but if you value your job more than our anniversary, fine.” When you hung up, Hyoyeon was surprised and she cursed herself for getting mad at you.

She knows that she promised to make up for the missed dates, but this was more than a simple date and she knows that she screwed up.

Yuri:

Yuri wasn’t exactly too busy when it came down to it. She managed her time well and always made sure that she didn’t miss a single meeting or event, so it was surprising for her to suddenly forget that you had made plans for your anniversary at one of the restaurants she loved so much.

She had been a guest at Yerim’s show and completely forgot about the time while she spoke with the younger idol. She was telling her about all of the hardships she’s had to deal with when she was younger and was even sharing advice to the younger girl that she was just reminiscent of the past.

By the time she left the venue, she glanced at her watch and saw that she was two hours past your meetup time and gasped before she hurried to the restaurant, hoping for even the slimmest chance that you were still there.

Fortunately, you were. Unfortunately, you were already leaving while doing your best to hide your embarrassment and Yuri catches the door before you can close it.

“I’m so sorry, but please let me explain!”

Sooyoung:

Sooyoung is a friendly person while also being very serious when it came to work. Your girlfriend was very admirable with the things she did and you were proud of her whenever she accomplished things that she worked extremely hard on. Lately, she was able to organize a charity event with the help of her friends and they were able to make everything ready before the day itself.

But on the date itself, there were some things that did not go as planned. The caterer was at least an hour late so they had to think of something to entertain the guests and make them feel comfortable. However, when the girls were about to sing, the speakers suddenly stopped working and she was just too stressed with the series of unfortunate events.

When she got home to a romantic dinner set up and you standing there, she lets out a huff while walking to the bedroom. “Can we not do this today?” She muttered when she went to wash her face, but you frowned at her while shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I was… hoping to surprise you for our anniversary?”

She looked at you in confusion before she mentally facepalmed. She was so caught up in the event that she didn’t mean to forget or snap at you like that. Wiping her face and hands, Sooyoung walked up to you and hugged you tight while sighing.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been stressed today.”

Yoona:

Yoona doesn’t mean to forget your anniversary. In fact, she’s always excited when you both have something to celebrate together and she’s always looking forward to the time she gets to spend with you.

However, she’s been casted for a drama and her time was being taken away to do scenes and rehearse that she ends up focusing on it much more than the date. She’s anxious about how well she’ll do and rants to you about it whenever she comes home and you have to assure her that she’ll do a great job like always.

It completely slips her mind that your anniversary had arrived, but you understood that she was really worried about her job and didn’t put it against her. When the day passes, she ends up looking next to her, hoping to see your sleeping face, but is met with a bouquet of flowers and a little card.

Her eyes water, both touched and ashamed. She was lucky to have someone like you, but she felt bad that she wasn’t able to spend such an important day with you. So when you come home tonight, she’s prepared some food and a movie for you two to watch.

Seohyun:

Joohyun rarely forgets things, especially when they’re important like an anniversary. She keeps her calendar updated and she also makes sure that she doesn’t have her schedules clashing with one another. So when the day of your anniversary comes, she has everything set up.

That is, until she gets a call from manager, asking her to meet for a sudden interview and she has no chance of declining.

Frowning, she would look around the room and sigh before calling you as she makes her way out of the house, explaining what was happening and she hopes that you aren’t too upset with her sudden departure.

When you assure her that it was alright, she promises that she’ll make it up to you when she comes back before saying a quick I love you.

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years ago

Text

Necessary Sacrifice

This is kind of a part 2 to You’re Next but you don’t really need to read that to know what’s happening. But I would love if you gave it a glance. . .see if you like it. . .maybe?

Pairings: none really, reader is gender neutral

Warnings: just fluff and some language.

On any given day, Ambrose can be either a pretty boring place or sheer madness, depending on the number of people wandering around.

Today is one of the boring ones.

Vincent is in the basement working tirelessly on the towns most recent 'guests.' Bo is down at the station salvaging a few parts from the truck that those 'guests' drove into town with.

You are in the kitchen internally debating the shelf life of the boxed macaroni n' cheese you found while hunting down something for lunch.

Lester is currently walking in the front door, a little unusual given that it's noon, but not out of the ordinary.

"Hey Lester, do you know how old this- JESUS H. FUCKING CHRIST! WHAT THE HELL?!"

The smell Lester normally carries around with him is something you get use to and contrary to what the tourists think when they meet him, he does indeed bath. But this new smell hits you like a well aimed punch.

It reeks like skunk.

"That bad?" Lester chuckles, standing in the doorway, eyes watery and a little red.

"Yes! Don't you take one more step inside or so help me!" you walk cautiously from the kitchen, hand held firmly over your nose and mouth, to stare down the man now hovering on the doorstep.

"C'mon, I gotta get to the shower, this ain't exactly pleasant for me either" he shoots back.

"Nope, you're gonna stink this place out worse than when Bo tried to cook drunk, just stay outside" you wave your free hand at him, shooing him back.

"And what am I supposed to do? Wait for rain and a strong breeze?"

"No, just. . .wait outside and I'll figure something out okay? Is it just on your clothes?" you ask hopefully.

"Well, I think my hat got the worst of it" he admits, shifting uncomfortably.

You had wondered why he had looked a little off. Seeing Lester without his hat was like seeing Bo in a short sleeve shirt or Vincent without hair hanging in his face.

"Okay, I'll get some towels and clean clothes. Maybe just, rinse off with the hose and here-" you dart back into the kitchen, grab a half empty dish soap bottle and toss it at him "start scrubbing."

Figuring something out proves to be a lot more difficult given the fact that you live on a tight budget of stolen items and cash with the nearest actual town being a good hour or so drive away.

Your rummaging and general commotion eventually brings Vincent up from the depths of his workshop, Mite tagging along behind him, to find you digging around in search of baking soda.

"Oh, hey, Lester got sprayed by a skunk and I need some baking soda, any idea where it might be?" you ask with a glance over your shoulder, arms deep in a cabinet.

The answer Vincent gives you sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

"Yeah, ha ha, hilarious" you deadpan and point to the pile of raggedy towels you had pulled out of the closet "now could you please go give him those please, his clothes are gonna need at least two washes."

His shoulders slump at your words and he walks like a man headed to the gallows as he picks up the pile of towels.

"Not sure if there's any left" Vincent's voice is a sharp rasp.

"Well that sucks. Definitely gonna have to put that on the shopping list. Okay, I'll be out in a minute."

Walking down the front steps of the Sinclair house, a cloth tied firmly over the lower half of your face, supplies in hand, you feel ready for battle.

Vincent is standing a good distance away from his little brother, old hose on full blast and pointed straight at Lester, who is stripped down to his threadbare boxers. Mite is calmly watching the whole ordeal from beneath a chair on the porch.

"Hey! HEY! I ain't on fire Vince! Turn that thing down would ya!" Lester yells, completely soaked, clothes in a wet pile beside his feet.

You gently tap Vincent on the shoulder with your yellow-glove covered hand and motion to the hose, which he kinks to halt the water flow.

"Okay, so this is how it's gonna go" you approach Lester, an open container in hand "add the rest of the soap to this and wash off with it, you're hair too, just don't get it in your mouth or eyes."

"What is it?" he asks, gingerly taking the mixture from you.

"Peroxide and baking soda, don't put a lid on it or it'll explode."

" 'Scues me?! An I'm jus' gonna put this all on my skin? What about tomato sauce?"

"Tomato sauce doesn't get rid of the smell it just covers it up" you tell him, as you reach down to pick up the ball of skunk drenched clothes. You hold it out as far away from you as possible.

Behind you, Vincent makes a sound like 'I told you so' at your statement and lets go of the hose to continue spraying down Lester, who gives a squawk at the undoubtedly cold water.

Once inside, you sprint to the laundry room and toss the clothes into the waiting drum of water and a diluted version of the soap, peroxide and baking soda mix. After closing the lid, the smell only lingers for a minute or two.

You open the small window in the room just to be careful. You didn't grow up in the country but you spent enough time camping to know that it's usually better to be safe than sorry.

As it turns out, Lester's hat did bear the brunt of the stink. You try not to think about how that was possible and focus on the fact that along with his hat being unbearably smelly, Lester's hair also carries a good share of the stink.

And you didn't have enough of the deodorizing mixture to go around.

When Bo comes trudging back up to the house for something he immediately forgets once he's filled in on the current Ambrose drama, he laughs harder than you've ever seen him laugh before. He doesn't offer any advice on the situation, just goes inside to grab a beer and plants himself on the porch steps, grinning, while Mite comes to sit beside him.

At that point, Lester tells the 'I Thought The Skunk Was Dead, But I Guess Not' story as he sits down in the yard to dry out. Vincent hides in the shade up on the porch, for once not looking like he wants to escape to the shelter of his workshop.

Mite is panting happily with you and Bo on either side of her as she accepts a rare petting from Bo, who seems to be unaware of what his non-beer filled hand is doing.

Lester branches off into another story, as he does when no one stops him, and you can't help but smile. It's so rare to have all the Sinclair boys in one place, not arguing or in need of some kind of first aid. You know this won't likely happen again this century, so you savor it.

The excited tone of Lester's voice, the occasional huff of amusement from Vincent, the way Bo isn't constantly tugging his sleeves over his wrists and the weight of Mite's head on your lap.

Now that you really think about it, you don't really mind the boring days Ambrose doles out every now and again.

"Hey!" you jolt up from your lounging against the steps, scaring Mite off your lap "I know how we can get the stink out of your hair Lester."

"How?" he squints over at you, the sun hitting his eyes full force now that he's without his hat.

"Just stay there, I'll go grab the clippers!" you jump up, scrambling towards the front door.

"What?! No way! N-O!" Lester begins gathering up the clean clothes.

"It's a necessary sacrifice, Les" Bo says and stands up, heading toward his brother, presumably to keep him from running off.

Vincent lingers on the steps if Bo needs back up.

Nope, you had no problem with the boring days, as long as you had your boys to help you through them.

#lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax (2005)#slasher x reader #slashers #slasher community #fluff #duck did it

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illustraice · 5 years ago

Photo

lead me out (on the moonlight floor)

rating: T word count: 7526 multiple chapters: 1/?

[ read on AO3 <3 ]

Chloe Bourgeois’ Capri Sun has a sheen to it. It probably reflects light on some poor freshman kid trying to navigate the hallways filtered with the fall breeze and the faint scent of student panic. She stays seated between the legs of the unbothered figure behind her and thinks that getting to class in time is, like, overrated and Alya Cesaire’s arms have to be comfortably occupied, thank you very much. If she had any time, Marinette would think it was moderately cute and a true testament to battling against The Wall of Heterosexuality, but because she doesn’t have any time between pushing her way through The Wave of Student Flesh and desperately clinging to her multiple binders, she starts to think it’s a bit of an inconvenience.

The Cesaire-Bourgeois Package Deal block a generous portion of the stair path; if the freshmen had any opposition to Françoise Dupont University’s ‘It’ Couple’s (of 5 months and 16 days, Chloe had announced in a lecture once) location of choice, they didn’t comment. Marinette scans the frantic narrow hallway and appraises her options; she’d very much like to get to Economics on time but there’s probably bad, weirdly homophobic, undertones to telling the Package Deal to please, get off the stairs and get to class. The two are glued to their spot, class time a weak thing to nudge their unwavering dedication to listen to whatever pop-indie playlist Cesaire has curated on her phone as they share the singular string of earpods. Marinette shuts her eyes for a few seconds, wishing Nino were here to pick up her courage off the ground to hand back to her so she can say something to the two about not blocking the stair path and making out in the next 5--or maybe 2?--minutes.

A trio of younger students scampers to the stairs, too careful to not bother the couple like if they were to make contact with even an inch of Cesaire’s varsity jacket, they would suffer a force of an electrical shock or something equally dangerous to the medical bill. Marinette wills herself to roll her eyes, hopes that whatever exasperation she has rolled with it. She’s near the duo enough to share a few words (maybe testimonies from other students about how much they want to get to class on time?), and slowly inhales preparing to speak when a smooth voice calls out behind her.

“Can you two get any more cliche?”

Somehow, through the blaring indie mess of a song--Hozier? A band Marinette doesn’t know?--Alya acknowledges the comment and offers a smile in the direction of the voice.

“Relaxation is key, Agreste.” she hums lazily. Between the confines of Alya’s arms, her girlfriend grunts intelligently.

By the time Marinette realises her conversational sacrifice is better off unrealised and makes her way farther up the stairs hurriedly, Chloe has put her earbud to the side and points a meticulously manicured finger accusingly.

“Find true love before you judge true love.” she preaches.

“What is that? Aristotle?” Adrien quips. “I think true love can find a way to stop blocking the stairs and scaring the freshmen.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “Find true love on your own first to prove it.”

Adrien sighs and for the short time being, curses his previous determination 5 months ago to force his best friends on a date. Instead of resulting in moderate disaster material he’d hoped would happen to use as some kind of funny leverage they could all laugh at one day, they’d turn out to be ridiculously compatible despite their exteriors and made out after a mere 45 minutes of the date. They’d laugh in the face of his ulterior motives, howling at him when he’d found them in each other's arms sickeningly in love later. He’d yelled profanities that it wasn’t fair that it actually worked (“It was supposed to be a joke! God, come on!”) as they snickered, all three clustered on his bedroom floor drinking his dad’s whiskey from the inviting and playfully restricted liquor cabinet (they’d been careful to pick an unenticing bottle stored all the way back). But truthfully he was happy for them, earnestly and annoyingly so.

Even so, their habits needed to die; like getting caught in embarrassing places making out or purposefully making out in front of teachers with Homophobic Tendencies (Adrien was more than supportive of that one but he’d also run several arguments on why it may risk them not graduating. Alya had just shrugged and said yolo) and now, blocking crucial stairways in their ferocious display of PDA. He quickly glances up above the stairs and thinks about telepathically apologizing to everyone who has had to wade their way through the duo. A figure with pitch black hair almost stumbles up in a hurry. Adrien wonders how he could send along the message that he grants them a pass to yell at his friends as a sincere apology.

“Can you two just get up and go to class.” he finalises. He looks down at Chloe’s cheer uniform and muses to himself that the near neon yellow in it is the colour of Chloe’s life.

Students still scatter around the area but they’re beginning to disappear to their classes. He makes way for a row of students running to the stairs and they thank him, eyes wild communicating some kind of cryptic message he thinks he can decipher as ‘save us’. He takes several steps up and flicks at Alya’s bun, strays of her hair bouncing. She doesn’t protest and instead takes some form of an effort to take his advice but it’s quickly halted by a suave kiss to her lips.

‘5 more minutes.’ Alya’s lips barely mutter against her girlfriend’s. The proposed time frame seems to be unnegotiated.

Adrien jerks his head up to the ceiling and groans.

When three chattering students noisily stumble their way through her Economics class, Marinette takes no note of it. She’s a little too caught up in what pretentious shade of red the bodice of the dress she desperately trying--failing?--to design in her Studio Arts class is supposed to be so that it passes off as something Dior would create. A deep, lusting flame colour or perhaps, maroon? Maybe? Frighteningly so? She flicks her head up momentarily to glance at a wave of varsity jackets and a singular cheer uniform. The chatter of the room increases exponentially. Alya Cesaire makes a joke or two to the professor that somehow saves her and her friends’ asses. The professor rolls their eyes but they turn kind and indifferently forgiving like they always are to Cesaire’s charm. A row of girls in front of Marinette swoon a little and it takes a moment for her to realise it’s directed at Adrien Agreste’s smooth greeting, the smile on his face so easy it reminds Marinette of toothpaste commercials. Chloe takes a claim beside Alya’s seat, a Capri Sun in hand and a look of undiluted boredom in another. She crosses her legs, pouts a little at her girlfriend, a form of formally beckoning her over to sit down already.

Seats are taken. Because Marinette has a brain and two whole eyes, it has always registered to her that the three are easy--a pleasure perhaps--to look at. Agreste’s a model even; his status of that is as clear as day as it is as cemented on the school’s Wikipedia and his flashy Instagram bio. But the force of all three was indeed a ridiculously attractive sight and Marinette would take her time to appreciate it all (really, she would!) if the stress of completing her portfolio hadn’t kept her occupied every ticking minute of her time in school.

She sighs and eases her eyes on Adrien Agreste who practically swaggers his way to his seat, playfully bickering with Chloe the whole time without either caring for volume much to the class’ entertainment. His soft, somewhat curled, bundle of hair practically bounces like it just has its own individualistic way with gravity. A hand tucked in his varsity jacket pocket and another loosely on the strap of his bag, he laughs at one thing or another said by Alya and Marinette thinks it’s a nice sound. A casually beautiful entity, she concludes.

Marinette’s eyes wander aimlessly at the board but she feels a pair of eyes on her anyway. Adrien’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, a hint of recognition on his eyes as he takes the steps above like he’s willing a vision to be painted in his head. Before she can look to him, his head turns away and he quips at whatever incoming remark from Chloe he had his way. Huh.

By the time the chatter dies down enough, Marinette has already decided the brief moment had been a mere daydream, a wander of aimless eyes at her in coincidence just like her own. She picks up her pen and writes her notes, stifling a yawn. Maroon, she thinks, is an easier colour.

Chloe’s bedroom floor looks a little like what Adrien envisions as an entire Sephora store. He’s not all that sure what that actually looks like but between Chloe yelling out to find fifteen different shades of lipstick and Alya lazily stacking more than forty eyeshadows on each other in some cosmetic version of Jenga, he thinks he’s right. His wooden chopsticks point to the takeaway stir fry in his hand and he’s debating whether to try out that powder thing, see if it does something or other. The view beyond Chloe’s perfectly oversized balcony is easy to look at, sunset views and all, and he thinks he’d like it a lot if he could stay there instead of the proposed agenda of the upcoming night.

Alya is sprawled out in her girlfriend’s bed, amusing herself with a meme or two on her phone. That doesn’t really satisfy Chloe who whines a little when she steps out of her closet, a yellow high neck dress tight on her waist. Adrien scrunches his nose and thinks the other dress--whatever he remembers of it--was probably better.

“Why don’t I look hot?” Chloe mourns. She slumps on a chair nearby, glum and decidedly not hot.

“I liked the other dress better.” Adrien offers, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t think he likes the stir fry either. God, they should’ve just gotten pizza but Adrien’s stomach had made some last minute ditch to stir fry just as they entered the pizza shop and he should’ve listened to Alya saying his stomach is probably making a mistake but it just seemed so good of an idea at the time.

Alya glances up from her phone and makes some kind of protesting sound. “You always look hot babe!”

“Yes, true.” Chloe agrees momentarily, ‘But I don’t look hot in any dresses tonight.”

“Just don’t wear a dress.” Adrien offers again. They should really be taking his advice, he thinks. He knows he’s not paying that much attention but they should!

“Adrien, get up,” Chloe says.

“No.”

Alya looks at him from the bed, targets his face to throw a pillow. It lands on the desired location perfectly and he thinks it’s probably a warning. “What are you not hungry for?” he hears Alya ask.

He shoves the pillow away, eyes still greeting the ceiling. “The stir fry is not good.”

“You know, where was this energy an hour ego before you dragged us to an extra twenty minute walk to get it?”

“I’d really like my stomach’s intuition not be insulted during these trying times.”

Chloe scoffs, “Yeah, yeah. But really, what’s wrong?”

Her voice had shifted to the softer tone Adrien knows she categorises as the tone only given when Chloe’s actually worried. Adrien almost thinks about lying, then thinks better of it. Chloe and Alya could probably perfectly retrace every single step he's taken in his life. It’s useless and his stir fry has probably gone cold. He sits up this time, the warmth of the carpet off his back. He contemplates first and realises he does not want to ruin the night, not even for himself.

“Don’t worry,” he says finally, quietly. Quiet enough for it to be a clear lie.

Alya and Chloe exchange looks. A brief silence passes, the type Adrien knows is a mutual agreement between all three to wait. It doesn’t have to be said now, the silence says. A beat later, Chloe continues mourning her temporary lack of hotness, whining to herself again as she re-enters the closet. Alya maintains her lazy protests against the statement, grabbing the stir fry away from Adrien for herself (“God, it doesn’t even taste that bad.”). Adrien grins, wills himself to look forward to his own party, thinking it’s better that way.

Marinette stares almost menacingly at the computer screen. Photoshop and her design glare back at her like it’s a contest that it’s winning. It’s only a sketch but Marinette starting to think that if she stares at it long enough, the dress itself will appear magically before her, having chosen for itself confidently what colour it’d like its own bodice to be.

Instead, it only leads to her wondering if her eyes are actually threatening to bulge out.

“Why are you having a staring contest with your own computer?”

Marinette doesn’t turn around. Nino’s voice is not enough to keep her from trying this whole make-the-dress-magically-appear concept she’s got going on. He will not distract her from this goal. He places a plate with pepperoni pizza on her desk, a likely and tempting distraction. She takes it anyway.

“Is maroon, like, a good colour?” she asks, taking a bite. Nino lands himself on her bed, his headphones dangling on his neck the way it’s practically glued to him. He chews a bit of his pizza in some kind of contemplation before he answers.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“The bodice of my design is asking.”

“Then no,” he answers.

Marinette does not like this answer. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t like any of the answers. She’s also sure Nino’s just talking out of his ass, but she appreciates the input.

“Man, have you even went out of your room since school?” he asks. It’s a genuine question, Marinette knows there’s no trace of judgement on his lips. But she’s also feeling a little jaded from the hours she’s spent on the design like it’s her lifeline enough that she musters some kind of look of feigned offense.

“I take that as a no,” he says.

Instead of answering, Marinette dumps her face flat softly against the desk. She realises all too quickly that this action in of itself is an answer.

“Okay.” Nino pulls himself up swiftly, hands clasped together the way it always is when he has a plan, “You look like you’re in the middle of a mid-life crisis at 21 and it’s just way too early for that. Get up, get dressed, put your hair up or whatever. We’re going to a party.”

Marinette grumbles. The idea, like every Nino idea, is perfectly acceptable, logical and has more than enough, the right intentions. It’s the execution, Marinette knows, that falters. Like how in kindergarten, he’d tell his best friend as their mothers shopped in IKEA that it was cool--yes, very cool!--to play hide and seek beyond the safety of the children’s play area, hiding away from the watch of the employees. It was practically genius to 6-year-old Marinette. Running away from boring IKEA-themed adults? Acceptable! Hide-and-Seek, the most thrilling game of century in a big area with lots of spaces to hide? Logical! Marinette and Nino had been bored out of their minds, un-enticed by the disgrace of a ball pit? The right intentions! It had been 15 IKEA employees yelling out the two children’s names for an hour later as they giggled away that had caused the fiasco to turn out to seem like Not Such a Genius Idea. The aftermath of their mothers’ disapproving faces had been another reminder.

‘Nino.” Marinette begins, “There’s a pros and cons list already made for that idea and I hate to tell you this, but there’s not a lot of pros.”

Nino considers this for a moment like he hasn’t already made up his mind. “There’s not a lot of cons either.”

The list is empty, Marinette says in their comfortable silence. Just like my head right now.

“Stop this.” Nino urges, “You need to get out. My best friend needs to come to this stupid rich kid party with me, eat a bunch of rich kid snacks and drink rich kids’ booze and live in the moment instead of looking like she’s about to go MMA on her computer”

Marinette doesn’t hate the idea of a party. She isn’t even opposed to them at all. Even art kids like her need their fair share of big gulps of gross alcohol and badly executed dances. But she also knows the only party of actual prominence tonight is Adrien Agreste’s, the golden boy of the Golden Trio. She thinks she might not like to throw up in his mansion or take up any form of social interaction when the exciting topic of Maroon vs. Not Maroon is the only thing on her mind.

In the time she took to contemplate this, Nina had dug out a pair of her black jeans and a halter top. He throws the clothing at her and she knows he has hit his target when she feels the material on the back of her head.

Marinette sighs the heaviest of sighs and Nino rolls his eyes. “Mari, you’re not dying.”

“Sure am.”

Like some kind of protest, he blasts some random 90s hit over the speakers from his phone. Marinette looks up, eyes already hazy and takes another bite of the pizza. Sixpence None the Richer blares like it’s trying to actually etch itself to Marinette’s ears. Nino joins in the verse but he’s kind of shrieking the way Marinette knows he does when he’s purposely trying to piss off the Choir teachers. Marinette stifles a laugh, then immediately groans.

God, rich booze really better be good.

His party is Very Good, Adrien intelligently evaluates this to himself. He’s in the middle of the dancefloor that’s really just his oversized living room, red solo cup to his lips. He’s not exactly sure what he’s drinking but he is sure it’s primarily responsible for the bubble of misplaced happiness to his body. He’s just a little hazy and deliriously warm and what the fuck is he drinking again? He dances between great friends, good friends, friends and not-friends-but-will-be-friends. Many eyes light up to his face in recognition, he happily recalls. The joys of being the host, he sighs in what he hopes is content.

The mansion is packed the way Adrien likes it when it’s a party--his party. It’s to blare out the loneliness inside these walls, the thought trespasses his mind. He frowns at it and systematically tucks it away in the space of gulping down all of his whatever-it-is drink and chatting to whoever is on his right. The wide-eyed girl smiles at him, polite and yet eager. He recognises her as part of Chloe’s cheer squad and she looks quite pretty tucking her hair behind her ears. Yes, very pretty! Is that pink eyeshadow on her? Adrien thinks it might be purple. They talk for a spare few minutes, slowing their movements a little. Adrien’s not entirely following whatever it is they’re supposed to be talking about it, but he knows he’s flashing his Good Smile and she’s flashing her Good Smile. And they look very nice, even! Yes! Wait, he halts, wait what?

“Agreste, you dumbass.” Adrien registers the voice as one Alya Cesaire but he’s not as quick to register the pull from the back of his jacket.

He’s dragged without grace across the other side of the room where the bar is set up, the crowd had parted like the knowing red sea with people laughing at his demise. Adrien’s arms flail in some kind of attempt to pull away from Alya’s force but he quickly becomes aware it makes him look like he’s drowning horizontally on dry land.

“Hang on there Adrien!” he hears Rose squeak but he can tell she’s grinning.

When Alya arrives at her destination, he finds Chloe perched on the barstool, chuckling at him. “What are you doing flirting with one of my girls?”

He feels a little caught in some kind of invisible lie. “Am not!”

Unfortunately, his voice squeaks the way it always does when he’s in a (drunk!) childish fit of defense. His knees wobble and Adrien wonders when jelly became a substitute for his knees? Did he authorise that? Alya and Chloe’s laughs almost thunder throughout the room, probably threatening to break walls.

“You sound like a 3-year-old caught in a lie.” Chloe snorts. Almost as if embracing this proposed age, Adrien pouts and sticks out his tongue. It’s stained red from his whatever-it-is drink. Has he been drinking wine? God, what is he? Above thirty?

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us wanna make out with our true love every 5 minutes.” he places his cup to the bar, motioning for the bartender to refill a drink. The man raises an eyebrow, asking what he’d like before Adrien says whatever is alright. In fact, he has been drinking whatever the whole night so he might as well continue. “Not all of us have found it either.”

“Don’t be so poetic in your own party.” Alya feigns disgust, “Call Aristotle or whatever. Make him do the labour. Your stuff is terrible.

“My stuff,” Adrien tries not to slur, “is very, very, very good.”

“He sounds very convincing.” Juleka nods as she approaches. She takes a sip of her drink and in an act Adrien can only recall as an angelic move, she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from the very bad consequences of his Knee Wobbling Fiasco. “Hold on there, buddy. The night has barely started.”

“You’d think Adrien would make it as a good act for the Debate Club?” Rose giggles beside her.

Chloe smirks, ‘You should register him now whilst he thinks his material is very, very, very good.”

The warm round of laughter from the circle erupts from this and Adrien delivers several glares to Chloe that they both know are just empty threats. He likes that everyone is having a good time, likes the obnoxious blare of music over the speakers and the familiar touch of everyone around the room he’s known.

“Adrien!” a voice bellows from the crowd. Adrien’s reflexes are painfully slow thanks to his whatever booze but he turns his head to spot the familiar figure, headphones on his neck. Nino always makes it easy to recognise Nino that way.

“My man!” Adrien drunkenly skips towards Nino, lunges his body weight at him. Nino somehow manages to handle the force of his bear hug and laughs, his body vibrating with it.

“How have you been?”

Adrien does not answer this question. Instead, he cries, “Nino, what the hell! Where have you been, man! It’s been, like, days! Without you, man! Without you!”

The group behind them laugh at Adrien’s speech, but Adrien is having trouble comprehending why. It’s been 2 days without his good friend! 2 whole days! He hopes the misery seeps out of him so they can understand his pain. 2 whole days!

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re drinking but it’s either that good, or you’ve overestimated how much you can handle. Again.” Nino grins, tries to position Adrien to stand. Adrien falls back to his arms like his body is lifeless. Was it? It sorta felt like it was.

“I am very good.” Adrien announces. He’s not sure who at.

“Don’t listen to his dumb ass.” Chloe laughs, “Have a seat with us, Lahiffe.”

She motions at an open seat near the bar. Nino smiles but his eyes flicker back to the crowd. He glances to Adrien, pulls a look like he’s going to say something mildly serious.

Nino slows his speech as if to consider Adrien’s quickly deteriorating brain cells. Adrien’s honestly grateful for it. ‘Hey, I’ve actually got a friend I’ve dragged along I’d like you guys to meet. Hope you don’t mind the plus-one, Adrien.”

No, Adrien doesn’t mind at all! Absolutely not! He wishes he could say something intelligent like ‘Of course I don’t mind! I’m happy for my huge ass hollow mansion to be filled up to suppress a bad ache of my loneliness!’. Or maybe he shouldn’t. So Adrien just shakes his head violently.

Nino smiles as if it completes his resolve. He leans Adrien’s body back to Juleka’s sturdy arms.

“Great. I’ll be back!” he wades his way into the crowd, the heap of bodies like some kind of transcendent disco-themed sea. Adrien takes a sip of his new--and hopefully improved?--whatever-it-is drink, hates it, then takes another sip.

Marinette remembers the order. Stay here for a sec, Nino had said, I need to talk to someone. What she’s not as diligent about is following through with it. Like a bad juxtaposition, she thinks, sipping through this party’s Rich Beer in her hand. It’s warm and fuzzy despite the unorthodox taste it leaves, maybe that’s the intended effect of Rich Kid Expensive Beer? But anyway, this bad juxtaposition weighs in on her. She’s hit with a weird pang of guilt over Not Following through with Nino’s orders. It’s not Acceptable (she’s broken an order), nor Logical (why is she wandering around in the gigantic space of this mansion where she can easily get lost amongst its weird sea of too many bathrooms?), nor does it have good intentions (she’s only helplessly so interested in the paintings surrounding the quieter hallways in this half drunken state).

Well, it’s not bad intentions, she debates, but it’s not Great Intentions. Marinette settles to herself that it’s Marinette Intentions, like that’ll help her explain this very reason of wandering around so clearly tomorrow. Nino will probably say something like what the fuck and then he’ll Not Get Mad at her because he knows pretty paintings are pretty paintings and anyway, why the fuck does Adrien Agreste have so many paintings? He doesn’t even paint! Never even been to a Studio Arts class! Never even suffered over Colour Theory or Composition or bad oil paint stains that go on perfectly good shirts that never come off even after, like, years of the laundry! Never even contemplated the deep distinction between maroon and not maroon! Marinette huffs and she thinks it’s one of her angry huffs.

Marinette thinks she’s okay with maybe swimming back into the sea of bodies, finding a pretty thing to flirt with and make out with for no particular reason for the night before she’ll slink back home. She’ll call an Uber and drunkenly recall the events to an indifferent and kind therapist of an Uber driver. She thinks it’s okay, yes it’s okay. She looks sufficient tonight, her lips are very glossy, very kissable, very capable of speaking to her future Uber driver. Her eyelids are heaped with a mauve shade, and Nino’s choice combination of clothing turned out well because he’s spent 19 years enough with her to recall whatever she says is ugly and not ugly.

But Marinette stares a little listlessly at the near blank hallways of the mansion. It nearly amazes her that despite it feeling like the world’s population was at Agreste’ front door, his mansion still seemed to have room. She waits for the wave of resolution to settle to her body, ending at the tips of her toes as to signal her feet to start moving in the desired direction. But it never does. Marinette sips the weird beer and takes this as a sign to stay in the dim of the hallways. Her eyes linger back on the painting in front of her, encased in a golden frame like it was a cliche. The acrylic sea stares back at her like the challenge her computer screen had once presented only a few hours ago.

Okay, Adrien Agreste’s house paintings, two can play that game.

Adrien’s footsteps carry the weight of the world. He’s pretty sure that’s not how gravity is supposed to feel like but in this state, he doesn’t really think physics is a concept he can grasp altogether. He had thought mindless dancing would ease his mind, make his body feel light as he tiptoes through the crowd. He sways along with the heat of bodies and he thinks maybe next time he’d like to hire a live weatherman in one of these parties to announce the approximate amount of degrees which he thinks right about now is nearing a million?

He’s dizzy, blissed-out like it hasn’t only been two hours into the party. His mouth feels like it’s on fire and drier than a desert at the same time. He’d chat to anyone who’d even so much as give him half a second of eye contact. He compliments something of anyone’s outfit and they’d say something like great party or Adrien get some damn water and then he’d flash his big megawatt smile reserved for nights like this or in daylight walking in the halls of the university like he’s shooting a never-ending commercial. If Chloe and Alya were concerned, they’d decided to voice their concerns for a later date and let him have his drunken fun.

For some ungodly reason, his mind rewinds to today’s events. Find true love to judge true love. Chloe’s voice strikes thunders in the thick of his cluttered haze. He grimaces, a little fondly. It’s one of those lines Chloe says without any real depth to it but he’s pretty sure the true love part has some weight on her part. Adrien sweats a little (or a lot?), thinks about Kagami for what feels like only a quarter of a second and then suddenly, several million years. He hadn’t let the ground beneath them turn solid, she hadn’t done the same either. So they’d just float in midair, aware they had nothing to land back on just like how he wants to feel weightless in this bulk of a crowd.

He’d kiss her once, in something like one of these parties. She’d return the favour back and it’d seem like such a comfortable tangle of lips at the time. His hand on her hip seemed fair, chivalrous, one of those moments of obvious destiny like how princes in Disney movies had no hesitation once they’d found their princesses. Once their lips parted, it was only then that he could hear the good-natured rumble of cheers surrounding them. Chloe had rolled her eyes, muttered something like I can’t believe you took that long, Adrien and Adrien had agreed on the statement. He’d grin so wide, the muscles on his mouth were a little tired of him. But Kagami’s eyes had been wide and curious and her teeth showed in her loosened smile so Adrien concluded that it had been so very worth it.

But then Kagami had sat down on his couch weeks later, shifting like she was not so sure of the space. As if the air inside was slightly suffocating despite the huge expanse of his second living room. Before her lips had open to speak, her eyes had already performed flutters of apology. Adrien thinks its almost pity but he’d shoved that feeling deep into the back of his mind before it could pose itself as a hazard to his psyche. She says what Adrien recalls as a blur of words. Sentences Adrien had heard loud and clear because Kagami’s voice was fit for presidential speeches or whatever, but were awfully disjointed like an awkward farrago. She hadn’t been sure, hadn’t thought it out, didn’t think it could work out in the midst of their schedules and oh Adrien, it’s not your fault but mine.

Adrien hadn’t processed anything, instead, he’d just theorised that the walls inside had somehow shrunk to the size of his body, squeezing the air out of his lungs. But he’d say things like it’s okay (it wasn’t), he’d thought the same (he hadn’t) and that he hopes they’d remain good friends. They did, in fact, remain good friends. Threateningly so. Then before he could blink twice, she’d jetted off to some lucrative fencing championship for the next 6 months like her life had been strictly scheduled to break his heart for one minute and be whisked away the next. The news of the breakup had circled ruthlessly throughout the entire student body within a matter of hours and Chloe had taken it upon herself to act as his publicist, telling everyone to leave him alone and yes, he’s going through a breakup-themed Spotify playlist, yes, he’d really like his privacy respected at the moment and no Nathaniel, he can’t share his Spotify playlist publicly go make your own

Alya, Chloe and him had raided the liquor cabinet that night like they would die the next day. Alya had ordered an obscene amount of pizza and Chinese takeaway. He wasn’t sure what the end goal was but between giant gulps of noodles, ice cream and diet coke (kind of disgusting), he concluded his friends had hoped he could also gulp away the sadness along with it. Well, he succeeded nonetheless. The next day he’d skipped along a path after classes, looked up to fervour of the orange-tinted sky and hadn’t thought back to Kagami’s eyes like he had been doing for weeks.

Kagami had been stored in the attic of Adrien’s mind, dusted and intentionally forgotten for some nice 4 months. But now she’s being unceremoniously summoned from the attic, in the midst of his dance floor and onto the pits of his mind’s living room. He holds a breath, a little more than worried that if he thinks about her any longer, she might also physically manifest in his actual living room which he honestly doesn’t think is a very good idea at the moment because he might involuntarily throw up on her.

Adrien thinks he can hear Alya’s voice faintly calling his name which is a miracle amongst the thunder of Ariana Grande over the speakers and fifty billion voices all at once. Without much thought to it, his lips linger back to his drink. The liquid burns down his throat like its matching the heat of the room. Ah yes, a billion degrees and perhaps more. He’d like to not think about Kagami at the moment, or any moments really. But once she’s out Adrien’s psychological attic, he finds it hard to stuff her back somewhere else. So he ignores Alya’s siren calls, twists his body the opposite direction and allows his feet to lead him to the better comforts of his bedroom. He stumbles on his way and knows he looks a bit like an idiot but he thinks his destination will make it worth it. Yes, well, it has to.

This room was too big. Much, much too big. Marinette doesn’t like being all too judgemental of anything. She likes to think that’s a result of her and Nino’s friendship and how Nino's face doesn’t really alter to the news of Marinette not sleeping for 48 hours doing designs. Instead, he’ll do something like quietly pull a blanket to her soulless body sprawled on her couch and confiscate the coffee away for three days. She likes to return the favour of understanding, not just to Nino but everyone else. But this room, she thinks, is far beyond the reach of her understanding. Marinette stares at the glass chandelier perched along with the high ceiling and doesn’t think she’d like to calculate if it alone could pay her entire school tuition.

She’d wandered aimlessly throughout the endless hallways, the voices of the crowd echoing behind her now mere whispers in the face of her indifference. She blames the alcohol but then again, she always does and really that wasn’t fair to the paintings which were the real cause of her spiralling away. If Marinette were sober, she thinks she might not enter strangers’ bedroom and judge them for their ridiculous size. But she wasn’t and now she freely saunters around like this room and her are more than familiar with each other. The king-sized bed, she notes, looks like something straight from a home decor magazine. Office space is set up opposite to the bed and it must undeniably have been occupying someone’s stress because papers cover the whole of the area without arrangement. Marinette can hear the faint boom of Top 40 music from outside and she thinks the sound resonates with the thunder of ocean tides crashing and falling much like the rise and fall of her own breath when she spots the easel perched near the bedroom balcony. Curious, Marinette strides like her body is actually co-operating with her. Placing her bottle on a table nearby, she inspects like she’s meant to be doing it.

The canvas is blank but the supplies were neatly arranged along the table. The space feels frozen in time, like someone had paused just as they were to begin and never quite gotten to resume. Clumsily left on the paint tray are different shades of oil paints, untouched and lonely. Cleaned brushes are nearby like they’re new and upon closer inspection, Marinette realises they are. Marinette inhales, breaths in the familiar scent of turpentine she’d recognised from years of sitting in a Studio Arts classroom next to Nathaniel. She’s no painter, not like she was before, but she’s more than proficient in traditional painting because of the required classes. Marinette sits on the stool and feels invited in it despite the clear lack of welcome of the entire room.

And because of the sudden invitation, in some swift movement she doesn’t at all recall, she picks up a brush, ruthlessly dabs it into the bright flush of a red and smears it across it the innocent canvas without regal.

“Fuck.” she says out loud as soon as the paint meets the canvas. Oh shit.

Oh shit, shit, shit. The mournful scarlet streak is right in front of her, bright as day in evidence and though its a colour, Marinette can’t help but think it’s screaming. The panic bubbles like champagne in her stomach but suddenly, just as champagne does, it settles into a fuzzy ease. Marinette laughs loud to herself. Fuck it.

Marinette ditches her reflex to set the brush down and instead dabs a little of the red back into the canvas, marks the colour again in another direction like it has a purpose. The more the hair of the brush streaks the colour along, the more the colour sings to Marinette’s face instead of its shrill screech. Over time, the colours bloom until Marinette hears the canvas perform a complete melody enough that it rivals the roar of waves outside.

The thud is enough to knock Marinette out of her paint splatter of a state, she turns her head to the direction of the door and hears a muffle or two of a deep voice. The panic settles back into her body and unfortunately, she realises, it’s panic alone and there’s no champagne mixed in. Several thuds ensue by the time Marinette has scrambled to her feet; brush, paint and melody are long forgotten as she drops it to the table.

An escape route, yes, she needs an escape route. Yes, now. What about her drink? Oh God, her booze. Marinette furrows an eyebrow, seizes her bottle from the table and mindlessly gulps down the rest of the bottle’s content. Yes! Beer! Alcohol! Wait? No! She doesn’t have time for this shit! Marinette looks again to the enormous chandelier, sincerely wishing the billion carat diamond form of it all would just fall on her head, knocking her out. Instead, she scans the ground, grimaces as she ducks down low undignified and crawls to the bottom of the Instyle-looking king-sized bed. She’s thinking if the chandelier does actually plan on killing her, the bed might just be her salvation.

The door opens wide and the volume from outside adjusts to something loud and obnoxious. Marinette spots the Nike shoes thudding its way across the room and simultaneously calculates the price of the medical bill she’ll have to face if her heart doesn’t stop drumming violently against her chest. The figure paces around the room like it’s just as curious as she once was. A moment passes before the sound of the creak from the bottom of the bed rings in Marinette’s ears as the person lands on top. Her throat threatens to squeak out a sound in surprise before she suppresses it.

Marinette thinks if she wasn’t the one in her position, she might find all of this awfully funny. But because she’s the one in her position, Marinette eyes the opened door. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, she could just crawl, go into some kind of lizard mode that her 3-year-old self had prepared her for anyway. The fact that she’s drunk is making the plan sound a lot like a Nino Plan and the fact that it sounds like a Nino Plan has Marinette itching to execute it as not badly as possible. She waits for a prolonged five minutes before she dares to move a muscle. Four minutes later, she hears the faint sound of snoring and is fucking grateful for it.

She executes the plan, wills herself to crawl her way through the spotless carpet in silence. Arms extending out as she slithers her way, the noise outside gets louder with every inch closer to the door. By the time she reaches it, her body moves at the pace of a ghost as she heaves herself up in excruciating slow motion. Marinette doesn’t take a chance, doesn’t turn her head in the case she might make some unintended noise. Instead, she takes a slow breath in, treads lightly back outside and hears the echo of the waves from the narrow hallways.

Nino reprimands her in the Uber. He also kind of does it in the dancefloor when he’d found her and nearly knocked several bottles over as he trudged his way over her drunken ass screaming the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He’d said something like what the fuck Marinette and she’d wailed out the second verse of Selena Gomez’ song in response. It’s a bad Selena Gomez themed haze from then on and Marinette does not remember anything beyond the audible thump of her own body in the back of the Uber whilst she makes out Nino apologising profusely to the driver. She bawls a little at this.

“No!” she hiccups, once or twice, “Wheeeere are we goiiiing?”

Nino turns his head from the passenger seat and Marinette thinks he’s going to say something disapproving again but he just chuckles. “We’re going home.”

Marinette thinks she does not like to be laughed at. “Nooooooo.”

God! She hadn’t even been kissed! Hadn’t even made out with anyone! Marinette places a light finger to her lips and mourns the lack of a kiss to her lips. That was so illegal! “I am very kissable!”

Nino just laughs again, “Find anyone to be very kissable with?”

Marinette narrows her eyebrows. Huh. Did she? She doesn’t recall a single kissable lip on her. A goddamned shame. God, what had she been doing? She was very kissable, damnit! What the hell was she doing not being kissed?

Marinette’s mind wanders to important things like puff pastries and croissants. She was over this night, she hadn’t been kissed and if she had been, it must've have been so bland her mind just threw the damn memory away. So Marinette hums a tune in blissful peace, wonders what she might do tomorrow about her maroon vs. re-

“Stop the car, I’m going to throw up.” Marinette chokes out. From the rearview mirror, the Uber driver just sort of sighs like he might throw up too.

The flash of red lingers its way back into Marinette’s mind at the speed of lightning or thunder or motorcycles or something dangerous and clearly over the speed limit. A Lamborghini probably. The blank canvas and how not very blank it was in its state in Adrien Agreste’s house. In the midst of her alcohol scented mist, the image of the painting taunts her. The hour of painting had seemed so far away like it was months ago and oh God, Marinette was going to go to prison for trespassing or something. She’ll go to prison and wear a bad shade of orange like it’s some kind of sick punishment for the array of colours she’d slashed mercilessly across the canvas.

“Oh my god.” she whispers to herself. “Shit.”

The car reluctantly stops near the side of the road. Marinette yanks open the car door, ducks her head down low and does, indeed, throw up.

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #cholya #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #mlb #ml fic #illuarts #hey !! i wrote after like not writing for 239483 years #i'll continue this probs #cholya...........yah #illuwrites #man nino is done with everyone's shit

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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fandomandflowers · 4 years ago

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About Beta Readers: For Authors

This is a guide for those who are wanting to work with a Beta Reader.

I posted a guide for Beta Readers here, but even though this is aimed at authors, I think it is good to read as a Beta Reader too, as a lot of the messages apply both ways.

(There is also the fact that many Beta Readers are also Authors, and many Authors are Beta Readers)

These are just my thoughts on the matter having been a Beta Reader, had help from Beta Readers, and having friends who are writers and Beta Readers alike.

It should also be known that I don’t always listen to these. I’ll not say no when I should, or I’ll leave a fic in the middle for months before picking it up again while my Beta Reader hangs on, just waiting to know what happens next. But even so, I hope that anyone who reads this will take the information into consideration and do their best to consider things from a different perspective:

Beta Readers don’t work for you.

I wasn’t planning on putting this up the top, but actually, I think this rule is most important (watch out, I’ll say that a lot!) They work with you. They don’t work for you. While there are some who work for hire and money, that is not my point!

So work with them. Talk about your ideas. Ask questions. Open dialogue. This is an opportunity for you to grow as a writer, to learn from mistakes, and to see things from a different perspective.

And just as they don’t work for you, don’t expect them to do all of the work for you.

They’re not your personal spell-checker! That is what Grammarly is for, so use it. And if you can’t use it, then find a basic spell-checker. They’re very helpful! It is also helpful to have a dictionary and thesaurus so you don’t sound repetitive. Grammar guides and “The Emotion Thesaurus” by Angela Ackerton are good to have handy while writing.

I think one of the more annoying things as a Beta is when you put all this work into correcting SPaG, sentence structure and repetition; then the author just accepts all the corrections, not even looking through them. It is fine if you agree with every suggestion/ correction, some Beta Readers are just amazing like that. But what I mean is that you should be reading and considering each of them. This way you can see where you are making the same mistakes over and over, and learn, not repeating the mistake again.

Some things I have learned from Betas: When to capitalise titles, when to use a full stop rather than a comma in quotation marks, that it is great to be passionate about what I write, and that con-crit is super helpful when you ask for it.

Respect a Beta Reader’s limits.

If your Beta Reader tells you they have Arachnophobia, then it is your job to let them know if there are spiders in your piece of writing. This goes for everything. Just because you don’t get triggered or squicked by something doesn’t mean they don’t. Everyone has different things they can and can’t tolerate and different reactions. There are certain things where if I read them then it can lead to me spiraling and not being able to think of anything else for days.

It is your job to know what is in your fic. If someone says they won’t read a certain thing and it is in your fic. You must tell them. They might be okay with it, they might ask you to black it out, they may have to leave you to find another Beta. But you won’t know unless you tell them. Because I know for me, nothing will make me want to leave a fic more.

Know what you want.

Before you even start looking for a Beta Reader I recommend you have some clue what sort of help or advice you’re looking for. I am likely to think all of these notes are the most important, but trust me when I say that this one really is. Or if not the most important than for sure one of the most helpful notes.

Some things you should think about before asking around for a Beta Reader:

Are you after a critical analysis, or a cheerleader?

Is there a time restraint?

Is your writing in the final stages, or are after ideas?

What are you needing checks for? (these are some common ones)

SPaG

Britpicking

Flow and pace

Plot holes

Sentence structure and wording

Canon accuracy

Realistic dialogue

How you’re going to talk to them throughout the process

What content warnings you may need to give

The word count. (less something you have to think about, but definitely something you’ll need to communicate)

Once you think you have a general idea of what you’re after, then you need to actually tell your Beta Reader. They’re not mind-readers. This is really the most helpful information to receive as a Beta Reader.

If you have no clue what you’re really after then that is okay, just say that! You can ask your Beta what they think needs work… If they’re a regular Beta or have done it a couple of times then they’ll probably have a pretty good sense.

Communicate!

I’m trying not to be a Google Docs advertisement here but seriously, it is amazing! You can see each other in the doc, in real-time! There is a chat function in the top-right corner. Maybe I need to write a Google Docs fan piece. (*Writes that down in my notes*)

If your Beta corrected something and you don’t know why, having the ability to point it out and ask why is great! Talking things through and having someone to bounce ideas off of is one of my favorite parts of having Beta Readers!

It is also important that you be open and honest with them, if you have a preference for a certain platform then tell them! If you’re both going around in circles saying ‘oh, I don’t mind,’ then nothing is getting done, is it?

If you’re having issues in your personal life and can’t devote as much time to writing or looking over things with them, then tell your Beta that. Don’t ghost. Talk.

Commit to your story.

Be passionate! Care about your story! You don’t have to be in love with every aspect, you can not love it in general for all I care… But there has to be some sort of attachment to it, because if you don’t care about your own story, then why should I?

While there are different types of Beta Readers, for the most part, if you’re asking for someone to look over your work then you’re usually not far off posting. If that is the case then please do so! Or at the very least tell your Beta Reader

Don’t make us feel excited about the fic and never finish or publish it! If there is a valid reason then that’s okay, but really, if you’re looking for a Beta Reader you should either let them know that you may never finish it, or that you may not publish.

I am 100% guilty of this. And I am sorry to my friend A. who is still waiting for me to write an ending. I’ll get there, I promise!

If a reader says no, or drops out, don’t get angry at them.

Please! Things happen. Don’t get angry, it just makes everyone feel worse in a situation no-one is happy with to start. Besides, if you get mad then it is a pretty easy way to make sure they won’t come back or Beta for you again.

You’re allowed to say no, too.

This is my favorite note. This applies to everything in life, and sometimes it can be difficult to remember that you’re always allowed to say no.

If you put out the details of a fic and say you’re after a beta Reader, you’re allowed to say no to anyone who puts their hand up. As a matter of fact, I recommend it! It is your fic, your writing, your baby. While it is nice to help out people who’ve never Beta read before it is also important that you feel comfortable with the person who is about to be looking at your writing. (Especially with the amount of self-projection I put into my fics.)

You’re allowed to say no to suggestions. If your Beta Reader gets offended that you’re not accepting all of their suggestions then I would be questioning if they’re the right fit for you. I always recommend you read through every suggestion and think about them before accepting or rejecting them.

You’re allowed to say no to a Beta in the middle of them going through your document, (just tell them first.) It is your creation, and you should always feel safe and comfortable with whoever is looking at your rough, unfinished work.

You’re allowed to say no to anything and everything.

Don’t say ‘I don’t take criticism well’ to your Beta.

It is perfectly valid not to take con-crit (constructive criticism) well; I certainly don’t. The point of a Beta is to give you con-crit to help you improve. It is okay to have feelings about your writing; I am very sensitive about everything I write. But if you’re asking for a Beta Reader, then that is what you’re asking for. You can tell your Beta if you’re more after cheerleading or critical analysis, or maybe a bit of both. (Always communicate what you’re after.)

But if you tell your chosen Beta that you’re not good at taking con-crit, then it can put them in a tough spot; they may feel like to be able to help you then they have to hurt you, and I don’t think anyone ever wants to feel like that. And for me, if it is a choice between hurting my friends or leaving them. Then there is no choice, I will leave.

If you’ve already told them in another context that you’re not good at taking con-crit and they are worried, then tell them that there is a difference between unsolicited con-crit and asking for it. A big difference.

Stan our beloved Beta Readers.

I know someone who records themself reading the document and correcting things as they think of them. That is pretty gosh darn cool! I wasn’t sure where to put that… but I think it is important to say that writing and Beta Reading, they’re fun! That is the whole point, so have fun! Chat about your creation and as I frequently do, gush about the characters! Talk about your favorite lines! Because you’re allowed to love and be proud of your work. I recommend it, it is such a lovely feeling.

We stan our Beta Readers. They give us so much help and encouragement; help us learn and grow. I hope that every passionate writer finds a Beta Reader just as passionate. Because making friends, to me, is the best feeling in the world.

#beta reader #fandom #fanfiction

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