#simply bc he cannot stay away from you </3 even if you laughed at him and his seashell he cannot fall out of love with you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 4 years ago

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dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

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vampiretickles · 3 years ago

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Metal family tkl hcs lol

Absolutely no one asked for this, purely self indulgence. I hope someone enjoys this nonetheless, also that it doesn’t find its way onto a regular blogs feed through the tag. lmao

I’ll start with Vicky bc hers will probably be the shortest, rest of the fam under the cut!

Vicki:

Ok so she’s not very ticklish

Her sides, hips, and back are ticklish a bit I think

She definitely has more of a grunty laugh

Oh, you wanna try and tickle her? Death.

She does not like it do not touch her it will not work You Will Die.

Glam did it once, luckily they were already serious and far in the relationship, otherwise he simply would not be here </3

Safe to say he will not be doing that again!!

As Heavy mentioned in his q&a video, she is rough and will probably hurt you

I doubt it would be on purpose, especially with her kid, but she’s strong, she’s ever heard of the word ‘gentle’

She might tickle Glam occasionally, she thinks he is cute :)

Dee:

You’d either have to offer him a hundred bucks or point a gun at him for Dee to admit he’s ticklish

Spoiler alert: he is.

It’s probably become not as bad over the years, but it's still pretty bad

His worst spots are his back and sides, as well as his feet

He will try to hold it in for as long as he can, smack ur hands away, threaten to kill you, etc, he doesn’t last long tho

He mostly hates it, unless he *really* likes you, or you’re family

At some point he will snort, and he will die from embarrassment

Once you break him, his laugh will go up 5 octaves

He’s a cutie tho :D

Despite everything, he has good endurance and can go a long time before he really can’t take it anymore

I think he would find lightly tickling/stroking his back to be relaxing

He 100% knows the science behind tickling

If you cet him bad and he’s standing, he’ll just crumble to the floor lol

Glam will tickle him occasionally when he’s being too much of a grump, which is a lot of the time

If you lightly scratch his armpits, especially when his arms are held up and he can’t put them down, he will go CRAZY

When he’s especially being an edgelord, Vicki and Glam team up to dish it out on him, ofc Vicki is the one holding him up and Glam does the tickling

LER TIME LER TIME

He will definitely get revenge if someone dare tickle him

He is RUTHLESS

Dee has very fast and precise fingers, watch out

He will definitely tease/make fun of you

Stuff like “I’m barely touching you!” “You already can’t handle it?” “You can’t possibly be THIS ticklish” (he says, denying how ticklish he is)

He tickles Heavy a lot when he pisses him off

He’ll only stop if he thinks ur gonna piss yourself, then it’s not worth it anymore

He may have mercy if you’re on his good side

Heavy:

He is ticklish everywhere

His feet and tummy are definitely the worst of the worst tho

I think he is a tiny bit on the chubby side, so there is plenty of softness to be tickled :)

HE WILL SCREAM

He’s a little shit so he cops it a lot

Heavy and Dee having tickle fights a lot <33333

I think it's 50/50 as to who wins lol

I feel like this goes for both kids, but especially Heavy, which is Glam giving him lots of raspberries as a toddler :)

He will curl up immediately if someone tickles him

His armpits r definitely ticklish, but no one would go for it bc he STINKS

He cannot hold his laughter in, even for a second

Tickles from uncle Chive? I think yes.

He can’t handle a lot, he will definitely piss himself lol

Harder tickles hurt him easily (this is basically canon tho) so he prefers lighter tickles

He leans towards being a lee, and some part of him deep inside enjoys it lol

His laugh is very chaotic and high pitched, ig because he’s a child lol

He doesn’t tickle people much, but he totally tickles Dee a lot

He’s surprisingly good at holding someone down to tickle them

He goes straight for their worst spot first lol

He never stays in in one spot for too long

He highly enjoys playing around and laughs along

Chive/Ches:

Award for biggest Ler of the century goes to …

He’s very playful and chill so he definitely just pokes people

He mainly just tickles people for a second or two when he’s being silly and having fun

He tickles Glam, like, a lot. This is canon because I say so

He tickled Glam as a kid, and he does it now as well

I think when Dee and Heavy were really little he would pick them up and pretend to play them like guitars, obviously tickling them in the process

Big tease

Like literally every type of teasing imaginable, he just likes to be funny lol

He doesn’t seem like the type to hold anyone down to tickle them

He just goes at it

He loves to hear laughter and he loves to laugh along

I don’t think he’s *too* ticklish, but he’s got a few good places

Ticklish tummy. fuzzy.

Ches DEFINITELY has ticklish thighs

Also his knees

Basically kneading into any soft spot of his, like his thighs or sides, will get him cackling

I think he wouldn’t mind being tickled, as long as it's not for too long/ too rough

He probably even likes it

He wouldn’t ask for it tho

Or maybe he would?

I think he enjoys starting up a good tickle fight

He almost always wins

A rough, breathy, hiccupy, but silly laughter. Yeah I think that suits him

Lots of snorts and stuff

He squealed when he was younger for sure

He bites his tongue when he holds in his laughter but you can hear a slight whistling bc of his tooth lol

Glam <3:

THE ONE I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOST!!!

Ngl i wanted to do just him but it seemed unfair lol

Walking tickle spot

Lee lee lee lee

He gets it the worst, always has always will

CUTIE

I THINK HE HAS A TICKLISH BUTT LOL

His smile is golden and his laughter is silly and bright like his voice, a bit odd but addictive and cute as hell

He blushes super bad

He tears up easily

Ticklish feet, yes

He loves to laugh and smile, he loves the people who do it to him, he loves it :)

Where is he not ticklish? Idk ur mom lol

He likes tickly neck kisses hehe

I think to a certain extent he just,,, lets people do it? He will just sit there goin C= and he won’t move if someone starts tickling him, simply start laughing.

He’ll start giggling and blushing if someone wriggles their fingers over a tickle spot

Sometimes Vicki or Chive will sit on his hips and wriggle their fingers over his tummy, slowly getting closer and then pulling back up right before touching him. It gets him cackling before anythings even happened, but he looks so happy it's so pure oh god

Ok so going from his q&a, he did have some parts of his childhood that was,,, a childhood, so I don’t think he’s never been tickled as a kid. It probably didn’t happen that often, and once he and Lydia got past, like age 7, they probably stopped.

So once Glam met Chive, he most likely forgot what it had felt like :(

DW Chive to the rescue

A 1 am convo that probably went something like “u ticklish bro?” “i dont know what you are talking about.” “ok you gotta be” *continues to wreck him lol*

It was one of the first ‘new’ positive experience he had with his life so that's why he enjoys it

He was confused at first, and I imagine his laugh would be rougher, he wouldn’t have been used to all that laughter

I think from that point forward, they had many tickle fights

Glam would always lose, mostly due to the fact that Ches was probably stronger than him, otherwise it might have been more even lol

Also, talk about TOUCH STARVED

He loves to cuddle after tickles, and just in general :)

He likes the physical closeness with his loved ones

I think at the start he didn’t understand that people don’t really like it, so he would just shamelessly ask for it, but Chive would ofc say yes, he ain’t gonna judge

He’d just sometimes lift his arms and ask for armpit tickles… and KEEP his arms up while laughing. The utter willpower of this man

I think bc his home life was so dreadful, he wanted to get all his laughter out at night lol

Ofc he’s probably outgrown this to some extent, he’s gotta at least pretend to act like an adult lol

I also doubt he rlly did that sooo often, he’s not totally tickle crazy. Casual fan I’d say. Lmao

I haven’t even got to him being a ler yet lmao

He has very quick and precise fingers, very much that of a guitar pro

He always keeps it gentle as to not hurt anyone

He can be deadly if he wants

He just loves to see his cutie kids and his dear friends smile :)

Oh also his wife, but we know what happens when he tries that, oh well

He gives his kids lots of raspberries and kisses on the tummy, especially as babies

Their laughter gives him life <333

He’s just ur regular dad at the end of the day, its their job to tickle their kids ykyk

As long as you can’t overpower him, you will lose to him

I’ve mentioned thus previously, but if Dee is being too much of a grumpy edgelord, he will tickle him

Not rlly tickle related, but he likes the feeling of his hair being brushed by Vicki :))

Um ah ig thats it?? Lol maybe i'll have more ideas and i’ll edit this post

#metal family #tickling #headcanons #tickle fic #metal family tickling #metal family glam #my hcs #this is almost 2000 words #whoops

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neoraso · 4 years ago

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ateez subtle skinships

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ small things ateez does to show they love you ♥

ｓｅｏｎｇｈｗａ: he watches over you, soothing touches

does not walk anywhere without an arm at your waist or holding hands

cuts food for you/ pours drinks

u don’t even notice it but hes always glancing over and keeping an eye on you (not in a creepy way just making sure ur fine)

grabs your hands tight and stares directly in ur eyes trying to formulate words of how much he cares for u. tbh tho he usually fails and settles for kissing the backs of your hands

likes to admire ur face and stroke ur hair when you’re sleeping (sometimes u pretend to sleep just to enjoy it)

ｈｏｎｇｊｏｏｎｇ: beyond adoring

holding on to even your pinky to keep you close and reassure you

“no stay right there and let me take a picture u look so pretty :.)”

sacrificing his dignity (aegyo) to make u smile even a little bit

brushes food off ur face but really does it so he can hold ur chin and kith u

pulls away from hugs just to pet your hair and look at you

ｙｕｎｈｏ: say hello to your new puppy

uses ur head (or shoulders depending on height) as his personal armrest

will simply pick u up and carry u to wherever he wants you to go (the dinner table/to wake u up/ the couch to watch tv, etc.)

always comes up behind u and covers your eyes to say “guess who~” dont tell anyone but he secretly does it bc he loves the way ur eyelashes flutter on his hands and the way you laugh every time ;(

breaks into a random dance and makes u join (literally will move your arms for u like a puppet)

gets .5cm away from your face and just stares until u ask what his deal is “nothing.. ur just cute ( ^ω^ ) hi”

ｙｅｏｓａｎｇ: weak for you, loves your love

nuzzling his head into your hair when you hug

kisses on your temple before he leaves

sometimes when you’re talking his eyes get kind of glossy and u can tell he’s not paying attention but if u point it out he jus“sorry i was waiting for u to finish so i could kiss u”

likes to run baths for the two of u every so often to relax together <3

whines and tugs you closer to him when u guys are going to sleep “cMerE itS TOo CoLd”

ｓａｎ : possessive, attentive, a constant reminder he’s close

tucking stray hairs away and softly stroking your face after

blowing on hot food before feeding you some

asks you to come really close just to hold your face with fake concern, “how are you so pretty?”

pulling your back into his chest especially when it’s a little chilly

winks from across the room and sends u finger hearts to make u laugh

ｍｉｎｇｉ: taking care of each other, fun

putting your arms around his own waist to make u hold him

cups your cheeks to kiss all over your face

once he holds you he will not let go..like even if you need to move he just moves waddles with you all the way there

spends a lot of time tying up your hair into the ugliest most intricate ways he can figure out ((rlly just an excuse for u to sit in his lap))

makes u have high note competitions that somehow he always wins? (winners prize is a kiss tho so who is rlly winning?)

ｗｏｏｙｏｕｎｇ: incessant and sweet

the cheek smooching never ends

also likes to bites ur face?ears?hair? (one time he left a mark on ur cheek and u will never let him live it down)

will simply plop himself on top of u no matter where you’re sitting like a koala and um good luck getting up from that

kissing u in the middle of ur sentence he literally cannot help himself

calls you on the phone (even if ur in the other room) just to say he loves you :)

ｊｏｎｇｈｏ: indirectly fond

secretly opens lids and leaves them less tight so they’re easier for u

is nice enough to cover ur ears before belting out a high note (he’ll kiss ur cheek right after too)

when he wants a snack he gets extra to share with u even especially if it’s his favorite. he might pretend like he didn’t want to share but we all know the truth smh

drops his head into ur lap and moves your hand to play with his hair

tries to convince u every day to use u for his weightlifting routine (he literally just wants to manhandle u bc he thinks it’s funny)

m.list

do not repost or rework

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hopefullystillatheatrestudent · 4 years ago

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okay so i’ve been going crazy these past few days. all about cockles/jensmish and obsessively watching their panels or reading the transcripts BECAUSE. THEY ARE LOUD. LIKE. i saw some fancams on twt and i thought people were just exaggerating but noooooooooo!!!???? so, getting to the point. you said that how do we know that jensen is performing masculinity? because jared isn’t and THAT IS A BIG BRAIN MOMENT. ON POINT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. a particular moment from gag reel that jumps out (which you’ve talked about) when jensen goes ‘cas, you are my baby daddy’ and misha goes, ‘i know i love you too’ and jensen goes, ‘i didn’t say i love you’ and misha goes, ‘i know you wanted to’ and jensen says, ‘i love you’ WHAT THE FUCK! that was NOT a joke. yes, people took it as a joke and had a good laugh BUT I HAVE WATCHED IT TOO MANY TIMES AND IT LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A PERFORMANCE. THAT WAS JENSEN. THAT WAS MISHA. jensen has a had trouble with the pda and being all touch feely (the breakup theory) and he gradually grew into it, accepted it and misha was right there all along, never pushed it. it was like a deancas au but tbh, 99% of destiel is because of cockles and we all know it. i just. jensen has latched onto dean as an emotional support because he tunes with it. understands it. projects on to it. yeah, i just had to say it and get it off my chest. (and what about those poetry pages on instagram? alma? what is your opinion?) btw, you have a lovely blog and your analysis are right on target.

so there is a LOT i’m going to address here(how dare you bring up [gunshot] i HAVE to talk about it now) so again!!!! under a cut it goes but i hope you appreciate my rambles anon it seems like you do :,)

1. jared vs. jensen and performing masculinity. hell yeah man. jared and jensen are both just ‘guys from texas’ but they are still so vastly different. today i actually had a revelation that i’m pretty sure has to do with me being bi. and it’s that i have a group of straight friends(that i love dearly but they care too much about hockey and pitbull imo could not be me) and i have a group of queer friends(who are also batshit[affectionate]). and it’s like whichever group i hang out with a different side of me emerges? they’re both me, it’s just that certain aspects of who i am as a person only surface depending on who i am around. however, i will say i feel like i watch what i say around my straight friends more. i see that very clearly in jensen as well. around jared during panels and on set, he’s definitely putting on an air of machismo and engages in typical guy talk. i do think an element of it is performative, because he wants validation from jared that they’re still just two dudes from texas taking on the world together despite his sexual identity. does that make any sense??? i hope so. but when he’s with misha he is an entirely different person and his sense of humour becomes wildly different. the machismo fades away, he’s way less caught up in what people think about him, lets his guard down, etc. to go back to my original point which is how j2 are different in that regard....jared does not do this. he is a constant. he does not flip a switch between ‘performing masculinity’ and ‘not’ because he isn’t performing any part of who he is. he just IS. so yeah these two are similar in many regards but there’s somewhat of a dissonance between them when it comes to how they perform masculinity because one of them is putting on a show and the other is merely being.

2. that crypt scene blooper(here just in case you need to see it again. do it. as a treat.) when i tell you i have easily seen this over thirty times??? since it first came out??? i mean it. it is such an overlooked(r*mantic) moment and it means so much more than people think it does. i’ve talked about the context behind it, and i think that’s why this blooper was so meaningful, so i’ll mention it again. jensen and misha had a LOT of trouble with this scene. the reason is that jensen couldn’t wrap his head around why dean would be saying these things, if i remember correctly, and both of them sat down and scoured over how they should play it for a while before filming(teamwork ;) teammates *ahem*). [to be honest we all know why jensen had a hard time with that scene and it is because it is blatantly romantic. rip to him but i would simply give in to it at that point but oh well] so anyway, their heads were scattered going into shooting, which is NEVER a good headspace to be in for a scene, ESPECIALLY not a pivotal one. but they had each other to help them through said weird energy on set that couldn’t possibly have invoked the best feelings, especially considering jensen STILL doesn’t think he played that correctly(but he praised misha on his performance :,) ). and with that context every single part of that video hits haRD

-’stop pulling my face towards your crotch’ i think this is objectively hilarious because it really really looks like jensen is pulling HIMSELF towards misha’s crotch. again, you’re fooling no one, jensen. misha’s wheezing laugh and the way he wraps himself around jensen is also,,,sweet??? like i don’t know how else to describe how i see it but this moment really reads as jensen, in his weird ‘constructing elaborate rituals’ way is asking for security through a physical touch from misha and he happily obliges and gives jensen what he needs. because i mean...watch it again. jensen ‘fights back’, but not really at all, actually. pretty wimpy counterattack. he literally lets himself be smothered by misha, and i would literally describe what they end up doing as cuddling.

-’i need you, cas. you’re my baby daddy’ i love having an actor’s perspective on things bc i think i can explain what’s going on here. jensen just delivered what was(in his own mind) a rotten take of the lines he’s most scared of delivering. so the scene was already messed up. therefore; ensuing fuckery is warranted to help him feel better. but there’s also for sure more than meets the eye for what he says here because of misha’s reaction after??? like he seemed genuinely touched. first of all, he’s saying ‘you’re my baby daddy’ as half-jensen, but not necessarily dean either(because he didn’t say the previous lines as true to his character...you get it), to misha, not cas. i think i’ve made this point before, but every single innuendo in the gag reels is to misha specifically, never once cas. therefore; logical conclusion: ‘you’re my baby daddy’ was for misha and it meant something deeper than we think because of what follows it

-this part. jensen’s giddy ass smile after he sees misha crack and then misha says ‘yeah, i know’ (can i just say his voice when he says this is so intimate???? like am i intruding guys??? sorry i’ll let myself out) also he is smiling SO BIG

- ‘i know’ ‘why are you laughing?’ ‘no i know i love you too’ this analysis is already so long but i still want to get into what THAT whole exchange means. ‘why are you laughing?’ to me sounds like jensen’s pretending to be affronted by misha laughing at something that is serious. and it’s serious because he quite literally meant ‘i love you’. he did. misha knows it. misha’s really REALLY good at cutting the bs and just getting to what people are actually trying to say. he has an innate sharpness to his sense of humour. so yes, misha is being 100% accurate when he says ‘i know, but you wanted to say it.’ misha isn’t lying here. jensen did want and mean to say ‘i love you’. and then he actually does say it(in a jokey way but not really).

- so yeah. it is actually so romantic??? like in a weird way jensen was professing his love for misha here?????? and that’s why this clip will NEVER. ever. get old.

3. jensen having trouble with pda and projecting onto dean: we can all call ourselves dean coded cas girls but NO one deserves that title more than jensen ackles himself. he is dean winchester but marginally less repressed because he actually did admit he was in love with his best friend and let himself be happy, and pretty early on too. one year and two months as opposed to twelve years. so. happy deancas au is correct. and yes about the pda thing: one day i want to write my own post about both of their body language when it comes to each other, but all i can tell is jensen, even in the early days, couldn’t help himself from flirting with misha, but if misha ever crossed a line, jensen would not be happy. clearly he’s come around, however. what i find sweet is that misha always follows jensen’s lead when it comes to how much affection they’re allowed to show each other onstage. it touches my soul

4. destiel is cockles fault. yeah. and the thing is everyone knows it, too. even non-cockles shippers will explain early destiel as entirely dependant on jensen and misha’s wild chemistry. and that chemistry is easily explained by the fact that misha and jensen are literally just wildly horny bisexuals who were crazily attracted to one another and were falling in love on screen before our very eyes. and when you have THAT insider info(which sounds cray doesn’t it!!!! the destiel actors are in love irl??? huh???) everything really does click into place. why destiel got SO popular when the show and actors never ever intended for it to happen.(i know some people think misha was playing cas as gay the whole time for shits and giggles, and i won’t deny that[especially considering he found out early on that destiel was why he was staying on the show], but i don’t think he really wanted it to amount to anything, nor did he care??? i mean he has the real thing with jensen, for one, so their characters aren’t really as important. for two, he loves joking about destiel because it’s a cultural phenomenon and it’s fascinating, and i’m sure he did ship it because he’s unhinged, but i don’t think it was vastly important to him either way.) destiel got popular because everyone was and is unintentionally reading into the real deal. i could pull up countless gifs that people have used as destiel proof that is actually just jensen and misha being messy. mainly jensen. if i’m being honest. the symbiotic relationship between destiel and cockles is why i’ve stayed onboard the destielcule and shellerscape for three solid months now; because it is utterly fascinating to witness and kind of super beautiful, too.

5. alma(and others). so. i do NOT want to really REALLY get into this in its entirety here and now so i will just give you my opinion on if i think alma is misha or not. also; i don’t want to mention the other poetry accounts here bc i feel like that’s a bigger breach in privacy, but a lot of people do know about alma now. way too many, actually. this is why we can’t have nice things. anyway-to answer your question-there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that yes, misha is running that alma poetry account. i am 100% certain. some people think it’s actually three people and they’re all connected to misha in some way but that is so needlessly complicated. as it goes in psychology; the easiest explanation is probably the right one. it’s just one person running that account, and it is misha collins. i don’t know why it’s so hard to believe KNOWN POET misha collins(who is known to spend most of his free time writing poetry anyway) would have created a secret poetry account to write about his intense secret relationship under an alias and also get legitimate feedback since no one used to know it was him. oh and the handwriting is identical??? you are blind if you do not see that i am sorry. and a million other things prove it’s misha too but yeah all you need to know is yes. it’s him. it would take a literal livestream from a random woman on that account to convince me otherwise. and honestly not even that because a random woman could technically still log in if misha asked her too. so. it would take a hell of a lot to convince me otherwise, clearly. that said DO NOTTTTTTTTTTTT GO ONTO THAT ACCOUNT WITH A SUPERNATURAL RELATED USERNAME AND COMMENT THINGS THAT ARE COCKLES RELATED. ARE YOU BRAIN DEAD WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT’S OKAY. sorry i got heated but god please just don’t be dumb so many people have already gone way too far

6. thank you for your lovely compliment on my analyses!!! i love doing them but i don’t know if people actually like reading them so i really appreciate it

#liz answers #cockles ask #mini analysis #spec #mine

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crowleyellestair · 4 years ago

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Love your work! Would you mind doing the wolves (maybe sans geralt bc you’ve already done him) taking care of a reader with a migraine?

AN/// Sorry for the delay. Work and life have been crushing, but here it is!!! I really hope you like it :) Again, very sorry for the wait. I hope you’re not undergoing a migraine while reading. Much love <3

//L//

There wasn’t much that bugged Y/n. She was strong willed and had a high tolerance for anything, thus being able to endure the force that is Lambert. She often laughed when people claimed Jaskier to be the most outspoken and dramatic, knowing the youngest witcher held that crown. Fights happened between the two and often, but they both never had any true venom behind their words. While Y/n was like most, and gave Lambert a firm hand, the grip she had was gentle, knowing that behind that angry exterior was a man who simply sought happiness and the simpler things in life. She didn’t pull any punches when joking or handling the man, but endearments and affection were also paid to him in full, if not more so.

Migraines were commonplace for Y/n, though she had medication to subdue them quickly and with ease. In Oxenfurt, she had befriended a medical student, the two of them experimenting with things to help Y/n’s headaches. It seemed dangerous, and some things they had tried could be considered that, but in the end, they found the perfect mix. Though, her medical friend stayed near Novigrad, and Y/n was currently galivanting with Lambert in the south.

It started with the pressure behind her nose, building and spreading to her cheeks and behind her eyes. She swore to whatever force it was that felt like it was trying to push the eyes out of her sockets. The heels of her hands had pressed against them, but even her eyebrows were sensitive, the hairs irritating as they moved, follicles tiny pinpricks. It spread to her temples and her skin felt tight by her ears. Ringing was heard at every noise around her. Her body felt sore as she sat up in the bedroll pile, they often created by pushing the two traveler’s beds together with the effect of a larger one to snuggle. Lambert wouldn’t admit it or bring it up, but if their cuddling was ever mentioned or joked about, the man would brag about his spooning and comfort skills.

Her hips popped as she brought her knees to her chest, and the ache rippled throughout the rest of her body. Her eyes were squinting as they gazed over the view. It was hot the previous night, so the two found a cave somewhat higher in the mountain rage they were crossing, and the view was gorgeous. She could see a crystal-clear stream running through sparse trees that grew throughout the valley below. Y/n noticed Lambert was gone, and she sighed her thanks to anyone listening to her thoughts, slowly leaning over to blindly sift through her bags, looking for water. A loud noise just outside of the cave’s mouth made her cringe and ball herself up for a moment. Ringing followed, as well as drums pounding behind her eyes and through her temples. A softer sound was heard a second later, followed by a familiar, proud, booming voice.

“Even in the steepest fucking mountain side we could have camped in, we have warm breakfast! Bon appe… you know.” Lambert’s rare forgetfulness would have been funny if his voice didn’t bounce off the walls, dropping on her eardrums like raining arrows. There was a silence that followed his statement, his hands on his hips, waiting for the retort. He squinted when he didn’t receive it, knowing full well she was awake, but went to pull the small doe into the cave. The behavior of his beloved companion set alarms off, and he was immediately on edge, though he didn’t outwardly show it. This was new territory, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want whatever conflict he was about to face. Out of desperation, he resorted to a Vesemir impression to try and lighten the tone.

“The early bird cannot fetch the worm if it has no desire to fly. While we cannot fly, we can find other means to get the worm that other birds can’t.” At some point, a hand found his hip and a finger started to wag. His brows furrowed and he leaned over her form. His voice was normal, the edge somewhat showing. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I wish it would stop-.”

“Lambert!” She shrunk away from her own voice that echoed back to her in full force. The harshness grating on her, not wanting him to feel the anger as well. Because she was angry. Y/n didn’t know why she had to suffer through these spells of headaches, wishing life would let up a bit on its berating habits. Lambert had flinched away from her, standing once more. His cat eyes were wide, and he took a step back. The true growl that came to her while she yelled his name was something he never wished to hear from her, having heard it from so many that hurt him before.

Tears started to drop, and Y/n scrunched her eyes close as tightly as possible, trying to block out the light, but also trying to turn to the man.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I can’t… It…” Her voice was a whisper, and despite his pounding heart, he dropped to a knee in front of her. He felt like a helpless child, wanting to get back into his mother’s good graces again, but it was so much more than that. He loved Y/n with all his being, and this was something he couldn’t handle. Her anger towards him is one thing, but true distain even slightly pointed in his direction was another. Lambert would do anything to right this, despite the unfamiliar fear that gripped him. His mind shrunk into itself, ready to lash out in defense despite months of being with her and being open.

“’It’ what? What’s happening?” He matched her whisper, outstretching a hand. It never landed against her skin, despite wanting to wipe the tears away and going to what their lives were before this.

“Migraine. It’s too loud. Bright. I need a minute.” The instant relief that flooded through him almost got out of hand. He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but knowing it wasn’t life changing was a relief. He nodded, now determined and grateful for the luck that has fallen upon him. Lambert stood quickly, marching out of the cave and climbing faster than when he entered. Y/n swore to herself, angry and in pain. She didn’t mean to yell or have her anger that was pointed at her body to be pointed towards her witcher, it simply happened. More tears fell as she curled back up, rubbing her temples in vain.

Lambert landed at the mouth of the cave once more, quietly walking to his lover. He placed the daisy like flowers in her lap, Y/n having shifted into a sitting position minutes ago. Her eye peeped open in question and felt even worse about yelling.

“Lambert-.”

“Shh, I have this.” His soft, coaxing tone cut off her apologies as he found a bowl in their bags to grind the plant’s leaves. After it was successfully made into a past, he opened their food pack for the bread they had, spreading it, and smiling to the loaf. He insisted they get the onion clove loaf, as he had taste despite being a witcher. It was the same price as a plane loaf, what did she expect? He knew the deliciousness of the bread wouldn’t even out the bitterness of the plant, but it would help. Lambert plopped himself in front of her, staring intently as he held out the loaf. Y/n took it, eating it quickly and trying to steel herself from expressing the gross taste. Cat eyes bore into her frame, waiting and hoping. His hands perched on his knees, teeth worrying slightly into his bottom lip. It seemed at this point, Lambert would eradicate her migraine simply through pure will, his stare taking even Y/n aback. She stared back, never backing down from his gaze until Lambert smiled. Her brow rose in question, and his voice was full once more. “See, I told you I had it.”

Y/n took inventory of her body after not flinching away from the tone. The pain had receded, and only aches were left. It wasn’t fully gone, but the plant along with Lambert’s distracting visage had worked wonders. She smiled to him, but it dropped quickly.

“Lamb, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, smirking.

“There’s no need to be.” Despite the storm passing, he was truly scared earlier. Y/n meant too much to him to have anything go wrong. Lambert knew, however, that even if she had meant to yell at him, he would endure it. He would do anything to make it better, despite what happened to him. Y/n was worth everything and more than he had to give. He made it a habit to pick Feverfew, the plant he used, as much as possible. He always carried the paste in a vile next to his potions in the ‘chest of important things’ as he liked to call it from then on.

//E//

“Oh, sweet Melitele.” Y/n groaned as she rolled over. She found herself alone under the covers, completely pulling the sheets over her head. The only light in the room came from the candles at the desk in the corner. Eskel had the habit of waking up after a couple of hours, the time used to check the camp perimeter or inn’s hiding spots. In Kaer Morhen, the habit didn’t change, though he simply reads. His attention was brought to the bed at the sound of a pain groan and exclamation.

“Y/n?” His voice came out as a whisper, only having an idea of what was happening. She had only been sleeping lightly for as long as he left the bed, so it could have easily been frustration due to exhaustion. His suspicions where confirmed however when the only response was a breathless grunt and the furs tightening around her form. He closed the book, walking over the bowl of water they kept near the window as Y/n often woke up thirsty in the night despite his constant reminders to stay hydrated. His feet lazily shuffled to grab a small cloth, folding it and submerging it into the cold water. Eskel blew out the candles, and made his way back to the bed. The brunette sat, Y/n slowly popping her head out from under the covers and into his lap. The towel was placed on her forehead, the cold water taking her mind to the shocking feel. His large fingers gently rubbed against her temples, the pressure trying to ease the ache.

Eskel’s lover quickly lost herself, only being tied down to the earth by the legs her head rested on and the fingers at her temples. The darkness and silence, along with the cold towel brought her mind away from the pain. After a handful of moments, Eskel started to whisper, reciting Y/n’s favorite novel. Her mind had another thing to focus on, and after a long while, the pain was gone.

“Thank you. Sorry I interrupted reading time.” Eskel gave a soft smile, leaning down and placing a kiss on the damp skin after lifting the towel.

“I love you,” he spoke softly. He said it as though it was the obvious reason why he did anything, especially helping out with her migraine. She smiled back softly, knowing he could see it.

“Not as much as I love you, cutie.” He scoffed quietly at the name, rolling his eyes. It had taken years for him to finally believe her when she called him that. It used to bring pain and make his chest hurt, but now it made him feel light. It made him proud somehow. The witcher was elated to have her as his other half, all the trust he had to give lying within her frame. They had gone through a lot together, their bond becoming unbreakable. Eskel could help her migraines in his sleep and her large heart could warm him from miles away.

He tossed the towel to the dirty pile of clothes in the corner of the room as she slowly started to shift. Eskel laid back as she turned to wrap herself around him. Her arms wound under his arms, hands resting under his shoulder blades. Her legs intertwined with his and her cheek nuzzled against his own. Light kisses dusted over his entire face, starting at the bottom of his scar at his jaw. No inch of his skin was left un-kissed in thanks for helping. His hands wrapped around her lower back, squeezing her to himself. Neither fell asleep right away, simply resorting to whispering sweet nothings to the other.

//V//

Vesemir didn’t have many opportunities to be what he always wanted. Despite his lectures to the boys, telling them to never have a family or hope to be a parent, the old witcher always wanted to be a father. He had regrets, and one major one was not doting on his pups like he had wanted to when they were younger. But things were different now, and he could do what he liked, though they were too old to want what he wanted to give. Then Y/n came along. Geralt had a habit of bringing friends along to the keep, and no one ever refused the company, secretly wanting friendly faces, even if they belonged to a sorceress. Y/n wasn’t such entity, being merely a human, which allowed him to dote.

It was the small things that he allowed himself to do. He tried to keep his caring under lock and key, giving her just as many chores and rules as the other. The old witcher showed through giving her an extra sticky bun or lighting the only scented candle they had in the hot spring before she had her time alone in the pool. An extra fur blanket was left on her bed and the hearth in her room was always lit as she retired for the light, Vesemir lighting it as he passed to his own room.

They weren’t grandiose actions, but the hugs she graced him in thanks or the bright smiles he received made him aware how appreciated it was. And that made his old heart swell, knowing he is that figure he always wanted to be. Of course, he does the same for his sons, just in altered ways he knows they’ll appreciate more and there’s little outward thanks in return.

His parental need went into overdrive when one morning she padded down to the main hall, completely a mess. Usually, she would be completely ready for the day, up when the wolves woke, a bright smile gracing everyone. This morning, however, she had the extra fur wrapped tightly around herself. It was late in the morning, and he had waited in the hall for her, sending the boys out training already. The bags under her eyes made her whole visage look sunken and she squinted anytime she stepped out of the shadows. Vesemir met her in the shadows, his hand barely brushing her back.

“What’s wrong?” She blinked up at him, eyes droopy from exhaustion.

“Um,” her voice cracked loudly, and she flinched. “Headache.” The witcher acknowledged with a hum, turning her and leading her to the kitchen. There was only one window, and he sat her down at the end of the workspace where the light didn’t really touch. Water appeared in front of her and his voice softly drifted to her.

“You need to stay hydrated.” Y/n nodded, grabbing the cup and drinking half of its contents. There was quiet shuffling coming from the other end of the kitchen, Vesemir’s eyes frequently watching the woman. Her figure was slumped over, taking deep breaths and hands rubbing her eyes and temples. Sympathy ran through his veins, his need to help and care taking over. While he wouldn’t usually make a different meal than the food he had already prepared, he assumed this was an okay time to bend the rules. And no one was around to see it anyways.

Milk was pulled, along with oats, cinnamon, brown sugar and almonds. A pot with the milk started to boil as he tried to crush the almonds into smaller pieces as quietly as possible. The oats went into the pot, as well as the almonds. Soon, the cinnamon and sugar were dumped into a bowl with the oats and stirred, gently placed in front of Y/n’s sagging figure. He poured more water into the now empty cup, his spare hand gently placing itself on her head, letting it lightly run down her hair. He knew it was something really only done to comfort or praise a small child, but he couldn’t help himself. His ears picked up a small thank you, and he left her to watch over training. Once that was over, he made sure to check on her in her room, bringing in a small lavender plant he re potted, knowing the scent helped such things. More water was also brought, and he was relieved and content to see her in a deep sleep, a small smile on her face.

#witcher x reader #witcher imagine #witcher lambert #lambert x reader #witcher lambert x reader #lambert imagine #eskel x reader #eskel imagine #papa vesemir #geralt imagine

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dilfbatman · 4 years ago

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vg hcs!!! especially fluffy ones 👉🏾👈🏾

OMG PEARL YOU KNOW ME SO WELL <3 here’s some super soft valgrace that i have been thinking of for a while loosely based on pumpkinheads the graphic novel! this is gonna be long and i don’t have a read more... hehe!

—

- jason & leo work at a local pumpkin patch! they’ve worked here ever since they started high school and over the years, leo has harbored a crush on the kind, dorky, handsome blonde! he never really acted upon his feelings bc it wasn’t until the summer of their senior year that leo was hit with the “Oh Fuck. I’m In Love With My Best Friend.” after they went to a beach outing w their friends and leo just looked at jason across the campfire and jason looked so ethereal and was laughing at something percy said and leo was hit with an ache in his chest that he had been ignoring for years, that was SCREAMING at him that he’s been in love with his best friend all this time. and jason then turned his bright blue eyes to leo and gave him the softest smile and leo ofc accidentally let his emotions get the best of him so the fire in front of them starting getting bigger and hotter until jason held his hand in which it completely blew out... jason is oblivious and was like okay i’m taking you HOME and everyone else was like... interesting

- so now it’s halloween, it’s the LAST day of them being able to enjoy the pumpkin patch together! jason is adamant that they stay at their stall bc he wants to keep being employee of the month and leo is like bro... LIVE A LITTLE! we haven’t been able to enjoy the very place we spend a month at every year! so he convinces jason with his leo charm to explore and let the stoll brothers take over! jason is reluctant but he sees the fire and excitement and pleading look in leo’s warm brown eyes that he simply cannot resist... jason is blushing and stuttering and is like... OKAY! just this once and leo is like YES! and he grabs jason’s hand to run towards their first taste of adventure :’) jason feels like he’s been electrified and has no idea why he feels so tingly... he DOES know why but frankly can he be blamed? the boy he’s been in love w since middle school is holding HIS hand!

- so listen. i’m a sucker for autumnal softness so these boys are no exception to the sweetness! leo & jason ditch their stall to go to the food stalls! cinnamon sugar pumpkin donuts, apple cider, pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips, delicious butternut squash ravioli with balsamic glaze from the very fancy stall, nachos, cheese fries, and tons... and i mean TONS of pumpkin spice lattes later... these boys are so giddy and full on delicious food! they’ve never been able to fully enjoy what the place they worked at had to offer and they’re rectifying those mistakes! jason giggles at leo bc his mouth is covered with cinnamon sugar and jason wipes it with his own hand and leo is like... BLUSHING he’s RED and jason widens his eyes and is like oh! um sorry you had a bit on your face... and leo squeaks out a thanks AHH

- okay so after that, their next stop is at a hayride! a haunted hayride technically but jason fully terrifies the teenage ticketmaster so he tells his dudes to not scare them KDKDJD so it’s a way for them to sit after downing delicious food and just chill w each other for a good 10 minutes! jason & leo kinda reminisce on their years together and leo mentions how he looks forward to this moment every year and jason just looks at leo in the evening sunset and leo has never looked more... what’s the word... warm? soft? ethereal? and jason quietly says that he feels the same and he knows the energy they both created is... different but they both oddly don’t mind? it almost feels so right? so they just smile shyly at each other and leo playfully blows a kiss at jason while jason giggles

- also i’m a SUCKER for haunted houses so since these are completely strong demigod boys, a haunted house should be nothing right? WRONG! turns out the pumpkin patch went off on hiring the best actors and the entire time leo is bear hugging the FUCK out of jason and they’re holding each other so tight - leo is screaming and laughing and jason has gone into praetor mode and looks like he’ll murder anyone who thinks about scaring leo LMAO it’s actually funny & cute and leo is like... pft literally that wasn’t even scary... as jason spooks him which in turn makes leo scream and roll his eyes and punch jason’s shoulder as jay laughs

- NOW! the end of the night is here! and the whole night has been quite the adventure for these two filled with good food, laughs, and dorky moments! but there’s underlying tension that they both feel and frankly. it’s too much. jason and leo are at the pumpkin patch and are picking up some pumpkins to take home and leo is just trying to find a good one and he’s like hey dude can we go to yours to carve them? and jason doesn’t answer and leo looks up and asks again and jason is looking at him so weirdly? and jason doesn’t know what he’s feeling bc yeah leo asked something so mundane but his mind went to them being boyfriends who carve pumpkins together in their future apartment together and he just shocked himself kinda and he’s like yeah of course...! they both shake it off and get what they need and go

- they gathered their food, their pumpkins, they thank the stolls and they walk to jason’s car and they sit down inside and start driving and leo is kinda serious and he’s like man... you have no idea how much i’m gonna miss this. and jason agrees with him and tells him how leo was always the best part of working at the patch and leo smiles a soft smile and says thanks. it’s quiet again and it’s started raining and the night is pitchblack. it’s cold outside but it’s ever so warm in the car and before they know it they’re at jason’s house. and they don’t get out.

- jason is the one who says it all first actually. he tells leo that if he doesn’t tell him now then he doesn’t know if he ever will... and leo is completely floored and blushing bc he doesn’t know what’s coming next? and jason quietly whispers that he’s been in love w leo for a very long time... he doesn’t want anything to change but GOD it’s been eating away at him and he just wants his feelings out there. it’s okay if leo doesn’t feel the same and leo is for once in his entire life, speechless. jason’s eyes have never been more serious and so blue and electrifying... leo is entranced and quietly whispers that he’s been in love w jason too. they both feel something crack within them that just opens up a floodgate and jason puts his hand on leo’s cheek and leans in and quietly asks if he can kiss leo... and leo is so breathless and he just says “yes.” so they kiss ever so softly and it’s both warm and soft, electrifying and feels like they’re both on fire, and just feels RIGHT... like they were made to do this. jason gives a soft smile and so does leo and jason whispers to him “why don’t you come inside...?” and leo whispers back “yeah. let’s go home.”

#asks #pearl tag #valgrace #PLEASE I HAVE SM MORE I WANNA SAY BUT HEHE THIS IS ENOUGH FOR NOW #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson headcanons #hoo #um i was also thinking of caitlyn during this so...#caitlyn tag #🥺

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rangoatemybabynsfw · 5 years ago

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Guardian Angel Lance sent to protect Keith. Eventually he falls in love which is hella against the rules and loses his halo and wings but Keith is right there and Lance vows to continue to protect him even tho he's mortal now and Keith vows the same

Okay, I loved this so much and spent WAY TO MUCH TIME ON IT. (Warning, some langst but with a happy ending) Maybe one day I’ll make it into a genuine one-shot.It’s very very long so I put it under a cut.

Also if any of you draw stuff to this please let me know. I think I’m in love with guardian angel Lance.

This guy is so much trouble. Seems to go through guardian angels like tissue paper and Lance quickly finds out why. Any kind of dangerous stunt Keith’s already halfway to doing it. The first day alone Lance has had three minor panic attacks to keep him from a) getting hit by a car, b) keeping him from getting stabbed by someone at a club, and c) not tripping and falling down eight flights of stairs after drinking too much.

And the next day isn’t better. It’s almost as if Keith likes dancing with danger. The only time Lance doesn’t feel like he’s on edge is when Keith sleeps. Thank god he does that for the recommended 7-8 hours or else Lance would have pulled out his own wings or strangled himself with his own halo within a week. That said, Keith looks…beautiful when he sleeps. Almost like an angel, ironically.

He notices that half the time Keith’s doing dangerous stuff, its for other people. That day he almost got hit by a car, he was grabbing a child out of the street. The almost stabbing was getting a guy to lay off a girl at the club. The almost trip and fall down the stairs was to avoid stepping on the apartment stray cat. He’s…actually a nice guy.

Keith starts to suspect someone is looking out for him. He’s always had a feeling since he was a kid when there was some kind of divine intervention at work. Like feeling a hand tug him out of the way or push him forward to avoid certain death. And he could feel when there was someone new. This recent one has stuck around the longest, three weeks now. So Keith finds himself talking to what looks like an empty room when it gets quiet at night.

Keith: You’re there, aren’t you? A spirit…or some kind of…angel maybe?

(Lance doesn’t answer him as he’s not allowed to)

Keith: Mom always said…she’d send me a guardian angel if she ever left me too soon. I think…you’re the best one so far since you haven’t run away yet…Thanks…whoever you are.

Keith talks to him all the time after that. Sometimes Lance will sit on the bed right next to him and listen to him talk for hours. Lance starts falling in love with his charge and doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until one unfortunate day he finds a feather. One of his feathers.

His wings…they’re losing their feathers. And his halo it’s…starting to feel heavy. His body actually…aches.

With dread and fear, he realizes he’s…falling. He’s becoming a fallen angel because of his love for Keith. This is his punishment and it’s already being carried out. At best he’ll survive and become mortal at worst…he’ll die or become just like…Lucifer himself.

Keith feels that the energy has changed around him lately. It’s a nervous energy growing stronger with each passing day. It’s different from when he feels a change in his watchful guardians. And it’s worrisome.

Keith: Something doesn’t feel right. Are you there? Answer me!

Lance holds his hands over his mouth in bitter anguish, leaning his failing body against Keith’s wall. He doesn’t want his punishment to get worse. They might erase him entirely if he breaks too many more rules but he so badly wants to talk to Keith.

Keith: It feels…it feels bad. Are you…sick? Tell me!

Soon the other angels will come and take him away. Replace him with someone else.

Keith comes closer to where he is, certain Lance is in front of him. Lance can feel the end approaching, the energy of his brothers and sisters getting closer. The last thing he does is reach out and touch Keith’s face, just enough that Keith can feel that weak caress even if he can’t see it.

Keith: You are sick…you’re dying, aren’t you?

There’s no guarantee he’ll ever see Keith again. It’s likely his errors are too numerous to allow him any mercy. Why not a few parting words? it can’t make it any worse for him. Lance leans forward and whispers into Keith’s ear.

Lance, breathing weakly: Keith…can you…hear me?

Keith, blinking in shock at the beautiful voice in his ear: It’s you…you’re really there.

Lance rasps: Not for…much longer…

Keith, starting to get upset and tearing up: What? No, you can’t go…

Lance: I wasn’t…supposed to…love you…and now…they’re coming…but I’m…not sorry. Falling for you…was the best mistake…I ever made…even if it’s…the last mistake I’ll ever make…I gotta go…they’re almost here…

Keith, now actively crying: No! You can’t! I…I don’t know what you look like! What your name is!

Lance, weakly chuckling: It’s L-Lysandariel…the spear of…l-liberation…but…I l-like…Lance better…it’s…easier to say…

Keith: Lance…

Lance: If I could have…I’d have stayed with you…forever…Bye Keith…be…safe…

The door swings open and in an instant Keith feels alone in his room. He calls out for Lance but no one answers. Keith spends the next several days talking to his empty apartment, hoping someone will answer back. He does research into religious texts for a Lysandariel and only finds a few mentions of someone of a similar name in 5th century bc. Lysandros. A spartan general. No pictures or art.

Lance goes before a tribunal for his sins. Many think he should be given to the other side for punishment. Hell loves fallen angels. Others think he should be erased in front of other guardian angels as an example of what happens if you break the rules. No one asks Lance anything as he kneels before the others, his wings nearly devoid of every beautiful feather he had. His halo already taken.

Several angels are in attendance but the archangels sit quietly listening to the evidence. Some whisper among themselves with a disdainful eye. Not a good sign. Lance is all but sure that they will erase him or send him to Lucifer to be tormented for all eternity. Finally, someone speaks and Lance shakes at the sound of their awesome voice. This one is softer than others and he recognizes it as Chamuel.

Chamuel: Lysandariel…you are aware of why you’re here. Your love should only be directed to our loving father…and for turning it away you’ve lost your divinity. You are all but mortal now.

Lance: Yes my archangel

Chamuel: What would you do with your divinity, were it returned to you? Remember, while under the gaze of Uriel you cannot lie.

Lance: I would return to my post as a guardian.

Chamuel: Simply a guardian? Or a guardian for the human Keith?

Lance: I…(he wants to lie but it pains him to even think of doing so)…I would return to Keith’s side.

Uriel: Because it is your duty or because it is your desire?

Lance: Because I must…All I want…is to protect Keith. He needs me…

Whispers abound. Lance said he ‘wants’. Perhaps he’s too corrupted by emotion to stay an angel. He must be struck down to hell. No, no, he must be erased so no other young angels follow his lead. The room goes silent when a new voice booms through the room. Jeremiel. He has the final say among the archangels in attendance as the angel of mercy, grace, and most importantly justice.

Jeremiel: Lysandariel. You were fully aware of the rules of your post but allowed temptation to take hold of you just the same. Zadkiel believes you were trying diligently to do your assigned task. And even though it has cost you dearly…you continue to pursue this assignment knowing it will only cost you more.

Lance closes his eyes and prays. He knows not if God hears the prayers of angels but he hopes he does and will intercede to save him. To pardon him. To forgive and absolve him of his sins.

Jeremiel: The damage from your sins is too great. I do not think you could reattain your divinity, even if given new wings. But you must be made an example of, do you understand?

Lance, shivering with fear: Yes, my archangel

Jeremiel: We have decided. Lysandariel, you are to be given two punishments. The first is to be stripped of your wings.

With a snap, Lance feels them rip from his back with blinding pain like white-hot fire scorching his back. But seconds later it is soothed by the warm hand of Ariel. The injury is healed but the scars will forever remain.

Jeremiel: And the second punishment is…

*****

Keith wakes to the sound of knocking on his door. He isn’t expecting anyone. Probably a drunk neighbor at the wrong house. It knocks again and then a weak thump like dropping a bag in front of it. Keith opens it to find a guy in tattered rags collapsed in front of his door. No shoes, his feet covered in blisters and cuts.

Keith takes him in, tries to wake him up. He washes Lance up and cleans his cuts. Bandages them too. Then gets him into clean clothes. There’s an awful scar on his back that looks like…could it be? Lance groans while he groggily wakes.

Keith: Lance? Is…is that you?

Lance: Keith…I made it…back to you…

Keith, smiling: You did. Don’t your feet hurt?

Lance: My everything hurts now…guess that’s what being mortal’s about…

Keith: That’s not the only thing being human is about.

Keith leans forward and kisses Lance. It’s passionate and wonderful and for a second Lance almost feels like he’s got his wings back. They break away from the kiss and Keith’s smiling at him.

Lance: That was nice…but my feet still hurt. My stomach too.

Keith, laughing: When’s the last time you ate?

Lance: Uh…well…never?

Keith: Guess we should fix that, huh, my guardian angel? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.

Keith lifts Lance up and carries him to the kitchen and for the second time in three minutes, he feels like he’s got his wings again. If this is what it’s like to be human then he’s glad to have fallen for Keith.

#Rango answers #Klance #angel Lance #guardian angel lance #langst #Voltron #Voltron legendary defender

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maddiesup · 5 years ago

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Tag game!

I was tagged by @ohbabycupcakes thank u💖

RULES: Name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things then tag 10 people + leave comments on all of them

This is gonna be hard, where do I even start?

1) Keith (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Okay I'm- trying not to laugh too hard because oh boy, this show was a complete mess. BUT Keith still stays as one of my favorite characters ever just because no matter how badly I was hurt by vld he'll always be precious to me 💖 He's hotheaded, cool and a lone wolf, but needs affection more than anyone else on the team. He's easy for me to relate to as I am more likely to push someone away than to keep them close just to avoid being hurt as well. His development is amazing tho and I love love him so much 😭 also it might be just that I have a soft spot for emo characters lmao

2) Todoroki Shoto (Boku no Hero Academia)

This just reinforces my statement earlier since Todoroki is pretty emo too :') But in a different way than Keith. If you are a part of bnha fandom you know he's generally a little bit overrated, but I couldn't help falling in love with him at first sight anyway lol His backstory is tragic but he keeps pursuing his dream and damn is he good at it. Also the combo of fire and ice is aesthetic goals. However, what I admire the most about Shoto is probably his loyalty to his friends, his will to fight and sometimes his goofy attitude (even if he probably isn't aware that he's being goofy lol) In conclusion: I love him, let's move on.

3) Uenoyama Ritsuka (Given)

Can I just stop to say how much I love given for a moment? Like I've never seen a bl anime/manga that would portray gay characters so respectfully 😭❤️ Ue is basically me gay panicking, I feel the boy so much :') OH also what's up with gays & guitars bc first given, then why r u and now also 2gether :') (I might be falling in love with this trope help) okay so: Ue is panicking when he starts liking Mafuyu but he handles it so well in a way? He doesn't deny his crush even if he is slow to notice it lol He's straightforward and sometimes a little bit rough around the edges, but even if he's supposed to be "the cool guy" we see him in the most hilarious settings and that just makes me love him all the more 💖 he respects Mafuyu and his boundaries and I want more of that in bl anime please

4) Eiji & Ash (Banana Fish)

Uhhhh this anime,,, I CANNOT choose between Ash and Eiji, I'm gonna forever see them as a pair and that's simply it. Ash is another emo one I would like to say that but he's actually not. He's backstory is heartbreaking and the life he has to live is dangerous and scary. He gets used to this reality where he has no one to rely on and no one to trust but then Eiji appears tearing his walls down and making him finally be able to show his soft and sensitive side to someone. Eiji is like a salve for his wounds and yes, I'm still emotional about it bc their relationship is one of the best developped I've ever seen. Their bond is so strong it's beautiful, they would literally die for each other. It's so apparent that they love each other and care for each other so much (don't mind me crying in the corner)

5) Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

PJ technically got me into fantasy/sci-fi in elementary school and it stays at the top of my favorite book series list ever (big props to Uncle Rick 👏) The whole series is funny and I would say pretty light-hearted even tho you know,,, Percy saves the world several times, lol, usual demigod things™. He's lovable. Son of Poseidon so he has seaweeds instead of a brain (or so you thought, he is brilliant at strategic planning and has a charisma to be a great leader), has a very good sense of humor, is loyal and would risk everything for his friends. Also he loves his girlfriend very much and I was crying while reading the House of Hades but no one needed to know that oh well. I'm also gonna mention Nico de Angelo here, since he fell in love with Percy (didn't we all tho) and was the first gay character I saw portrayed in the book and oh do I love him 😭💖

6) 707 (Mystic Messenger)

Was I losing sleep over this game? I was. Do I regret anything? Absolutely not. I think my choices are pretty boring tho, since Seven is literally everyone's favorite but oh boy there's a reason for that. Apart from being a talented hacker who knows too much (and I think is cautious of us the most at the start) he has a lovely happy-go-lucky personality composed of all the lame jokes, questions "have you eaten already" and anxiety (another emo one). He's that type of a character who will always try to make you laugh but you never know what's going on inside his head. He's mysterious and we don't get to know him well till his route so pretty much till the end of the game lol. Also he loves his brother, phd pepper, honey buddha chips and Elizabeth 3rd the most in this entire world and I love him for that

7) Evan Hansen (Dear Evan Hansen)

ANOTHER EMO ONE okay but hear me out Evan has social anxiety and its portrayal is almost too real for me. He makes a big oopsie which at the start seems like a little innocent lie but then snowballs to enormous sizes. He gains everything in this bargain, a best (dead) friend, a caring mother, a father, a girlfriend even - and then everything falls apart since it all is built on one fat lie. He makes a lot of mistakes and then some more but you get it and you feel for him, and you cry with him and you're happy for him. And when all of this is over you're glad that he's still there trying his best, taking it one day at a time. And sidenote: Ben Platt's voice is angelic and I love him as Evan 💖💖💖

8) Isak (SKAM)

Another gay panicking one. I'm starting to realize there's a set of traits that I particularly like in fictional characters lol But ye, when I was watching skam ofc it was the third season which gripped me the most and kept me on the edge, bc yet again Isak taking an "are you gay" test was way too real for me. He makes a lot of mistakes along the way of figuring out his sexuality and sometimes stuff with Evan becomes really messy (for both of them) but he stays with him nevertheless ❤️ Skam is literally so good in its portrayal of the characters :') Anyways: alt er love 💖

9) Viktor & Yuuri (Yuri on Ice)

Em, another one that I absolutely can't break up to just one bc how could I? Yuri on ice got me into skating ❤️ I went to an ice rink for the first time bc of this anime and I almost died but now look at me actually finishing my first three months of ice skating training and watching real life figure skating competitions :') Little did I know then. But they're not only my favourites bc of that, I genuinely love the development of their relationship from fan - idol through skater - couch to lovers and history makers in the end. I love how Yuuri is a ball of insecurities and how Viktor manages to reassure him. I love how Viktor fell in love with drunk Yuuri clinging to him. I love how at first Yuuri wasn't able to get too close to Viktor without getting flustered and it changes so drastically to them basically always holding onto each other. I love how Viktor was stuck with no inspiration but then Yuuri came and turned his world upside down. I love how they support and respect each other. I could probably go on into eternity like that and Yuri on ice isn't even the best anime I've ever seen but it's certainly my favourite one ❤️

10) Tutor (WHY R U)

I can't believe I'm so obsessed with thai dramas rn and I'm only gonna include Tor on this list smh He's mental attitude inspires me. He's able to hold so much and appears totally unfazed even if he's barely holding on inside. He's hardworking and doesn't want others to pity him since he can manage it all just fine. He has a kind heart, he's a wonderful friend (especially to Hwa, he always listens to her, gives her pieces of advise, supports her and tries to cheer her up). He never forgets to say thank you when he genuinely feels grateful. But as we've seen he also is passionate and when he loves he LOVES. Also he's the biggest tease to Fighter and I love him for that :') I am so satisfied just by seeing him happy, please do not change that whyru gods 🙏

As it appears I'm done .-. I have no idea what have just happened and if my rambling even makes sense but not that I care at this point. If you read this far, please drink some water now, that was a lot of reading to go through ❤️

Tagging: @wir-ro, @saecookie and any other 8 people who might want to ksks (im too tired to tag lmao)

Don't be like me and go to bed at reasonable hours despite this whole quarantine thing .-. thank again Doreen for tagging since it was really fun 🥺❤️

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levi-inthesun · 5 years ago

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Two Can Play At That Game, Part 2

A/N: OKAY HERE IS PART 2! There will be at least one more part, and I apologize in advanced for 2 reasons: 1. I had a nerve ablation done on my cervical spine (c 3-5) and am in pain and 2. this is the closest thing to smut I have even written. (Oh, and 3 bc I BaRlEy edited this).. Last, the Ace of Diamonds is the reader’s super-spy name (that I came up with as a last-ditch effort, sue me)

Warnings: SexuAL TENSION, swearing, some angst.bc I’m a hoe for confronting difficult emotions.

Panic began to build in your chest, at least you were pretty sure that’s what it was., you couldn’t breathe and normally you only felt that when you were panicking and right now, you couldn’t breathe.

“Uh,” you started, words not coming, “I uh, I’m sorry Bucky, I only see you as a friend.”

Bucky watched your mouth open and close like a fish out of water for a second before smiling, He leaned in close so that is lips were practically touching your ear. “And who says friends can’t fuck? You can’t deny the tension here.”

You could feel a coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were suddenly aware that you couldn’t breathe for a completely different reason. Then Bucky pushed off the wall and walked away.

“Anyways, I’ll see ya later!”

It took a second for your breathing to get back to normal, but when it did you yelled down the hall after him, “I did not like that! Not one bit! I dare you to try that shit on me again, Barnes!”

The only sound you were met with was laughter.

You slammed the door to your room and locked it behind you.

“Aaaahh!” you screamed into your hands. “What the actual hell. I am so not equipped for this.”

Ignoring the tension you felt in your body you plopped down on your bed and grabbed your laptop, opening up tumblr. Front and center was an update by theactualfalcon.

Hello, my falconettes, I am writing this post just in case I am murdered by my friends, our number one OTP, the Ace of Diamonds and the Winter Soldier. They came across my blog and read yours and my favorite story I wrote, Star Crossed Lovers and I walked in just as she read out the name of my blog. Unfortunately, my face was too telling and they automatically knew it was me. No matter my fate, please understand that I regret nothing. Although, I think I underestimated their power together; they’re too strong, too powerful and I hope and pray to any god who is listening (except Thor or Loki) that they only stay a ship in our dreams.

Yours,

Sam Wilson, the actual Falcon.

You had to cover your face with a pillow to stop you from screaming and laughing too loud. Sam had been serious! He actually wanted you and old man Barnes to bang, at least, he used to. That is when the plan began to form and you send a quick text from your phone. After that, you hopped off your bed and booked it to your large closet and tore open the doors. After rifling through your belongings you found what you were looking for and changed your clothes.

You were working on your hair when you heard your phone ping.

Pepper: I’ll spread the word, is there a reason we should all avoid the compound?

You: Yes. Sam has a tumblr and is apparently the number 1 fan of Barnes and I getting together, at least he was until this morning. I am going to get back at him by making him think we ARE getting together. Figured I would spare everyone else.

Pepper: You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course, it’s for a prank. However, thank you for sparing us. I don’t think the team would survive.

Pepper: Just… don’t catch any actual feelings unless you’re ready for the consequences.

You: Yeah, yeah. Are we still down for a girl's night next weekend?

At that, you put your phone back down and finished getting ready before standing up and smoothing the slinky nightdress over your form.

“Check fucking mate, Banky Burnes.”

Using your skills as a spy, you creep through the hallways of the compound until you found yourself in the empty living room. Quickly, you light the fireplace and pull out the numerous candles you had on hand in essentially every room of the compound you had access too- and you had access to just about every room, even the ones you didn’t have a key too. Once the last one was lit, you quietly asked FRIDAY to play the playlist you had created (named *Seduce Barnes, Fool Wilson*) and skillfully lay your body across the very appropriately placed chaise lounge, which you were incredibly glad you had talked Tony, the drama queen into purchasing.

Just on cue, you heard Bucky clunking through the compound hallways towards you.

“Hey, is everything alright, I smell-” Bucky halted at the entrance to the living room, eyes wide. You could tell he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned with the sheer amount of fire in the room or keep his eyes on your form.

“Hello, James,” you called out to him, voice low.

“H-hey,” Bucky swallowed, pulling his collar away from his neck. “A-are you sure this is safe?”

You smiled slowly, looking up at him from below your lashes, “The fire? Or the spark between us?”

You could have sworn you saw Bucky mouth the words ‘fuck yes’ to himself, but you weren’t positive because the moment he began to step in your direction you began to question your own sanity. Sure, you had seduced hundreds of men for missions and just for the fun of it, of course. And yes, every single time you managed to get them in whatever position you needed them to be in to extract pertinent information or simply to bang someone because you were bored, but that's besides the point. The point was, you were always successful and this was BANKY BURNES FOR FUCKS SAke.

Now, Bucky was standing over you not sure what to do with himself and your face did not even twitch from the mental emotional turmoil you had just gone through.

“So, Barnes,” you purred. “You gonna come down here, or am I gonna have to climb you like the tree you are?”

Internally, you were wheezing at the line you had just used… did you really call BANKY BURNES A TREE?

Bucky didn’t move, so you moved into a kneeling position and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Sam will be here in precisely a minute and a half and if you do not kiss me like you mean to have me, we cannot get back at him like I’ve been planning all damn afternoon,” you tugged harshly on his shirt so he was now nose to nose with you. “Are you in or out?”

You saw all of heaven and hell pass through Bucky’s face as he grit his teeth, “You got me horny to get back at Sam, what the fuck?”

“And you, for earlier, not fun, huh?” You did your best to smile mischievously but you weren’t really sure how well that turned out.

Bucky huffed, “Shit, he’s coming. Yeah, I’m in.”

The second his soft, plump lips made contact with yours, you knew you were maybe fucked.

At first, you simply relaxed into the kiss, although not a part of your elaborate plan. In your head though, you were counting out the seconds before Sam walked through the door.

Then Bucky’s entirely too large hands firmly grabbed your hips, spurring your forwards. You hooked your leg over his hip before flipping him over. Now that he was lying on the dramatic chaise lounge, you planted your knees on either side of his strong hips and attached your lips to the spot just below his jaw and ear and threaded your fingers in his too soft hair, tugging a little too roughly.

And just as Sam walked through the door, Bucky growled in your ear and that dumb coil in your stomach began to grow tighter and this was becoming too real but you couldn’t didn’t want to stop yourself.

Bucky managed to rotate positions so that you were on your back and he was hovering above you, you head hanging over the end of the lounge, ever so slightly, Bucky began to suck wet kisses on your neck and chest as his hands gripped your hips, rucking your nightgown up ever so slightly and you had the perfect view of Sam standing in the middle of the open kitchen, too many bags of groceries falling out of his hands, eyes, and mouth open wide.

“Bucky,” you purred, “We have company.”

Unfortunately Bucky stopped his ministrations and looked up.

“WHaT THE ActuAL FUCK,” Sam began yelling. “I diD NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN!”

Sam began pacing furiously, mumbling to himself, then stopped suddenly pointing at the two of you who haven’t moved a single inch except for Bucky’s stupid metal right hand which had moved approximately 2 inches up, further moving your nightgown, but you weren’t focusing on that, no that was simply the spy in you paying attention.

“YOU SET THIS UP!” He finally yelled, an ‘aha’ in his voice. “This isn’t real,” he stated matter of factly, then picked up his groceries and began putting them away.

You rolled your eyes and pushed the massive man away from you and began blowing out candles, forcing tears to your eyes.

“Sam Wilson,” you said, voice watery, “You ruined a perfect night.”

Then you ran off towards your room, slowing once you were out of sight.

You heard Bucky huff with annoyance once the last candle was out, “You had to make my girl upset?” he ground out before following you.

By the time Bucky made his way to you, you were leaning up against his door, pouting (for effect, and just in case redwing followed).

By the look in your eyes, Bucky knew redwing was peeking around the corner.

“‘M sorry baby,” he said softly, running a finger down your cheek, tracing your jaw. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You allowed a small smile to form on your lips and suddenly felt very warm in the pit of your stomach, “Oh? How so?”

“Well,” he started, settling one of his thick legs between yours while running his stupid metal hand down your left arm, “How about we head into my room and you can find out?”

You willed you fucking head to nod and felt Bucky’s arm wrap around your waist just as he opened the door.

Once the door to his room was closed, however, and to your surprise, Bucky had you pinned to the wall,

“Please let me fucking kiss you,” Bucky growled.

“Do it,” you replied, voice hushed.

Bucky’s lips were not at all the same against yours as they were when you were in the living room. Compared to this, that was practiced and calculated. This was searing. The way his hot lips burned across your was made your heart constrict you and your toes curl and you kissed back with equal force.

You tore your hands from where they were gripping his shoulders to push at his abdomen with enough strength that he knew to move (you knew from enough missions and training sessions that that man wouldn’t move if he didn’t need to). Bucky let you push him back towards his bed but turned before the backs of his legs made contact and instead picked you up and chucked you onto it unceremoniously.

“You,” he started, voice husky, “are going to be,” he said as he climbed onto the bed and pulled on your leg so that you met him halfway, “the fucking death of me.”

From the ferocity in this voice and intensity of his eyes, you expected this kiss to be as the last one, hot and burning. Instead, it was gentle, almost, dare you say loving as his stupid long fingers brushed against your cheek and his body settled over yours, tongues exploring.

“You’ve been really closed off since, well,” Bucky paused, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Since Steve left. And I know you don’t like talking about that, I just wanted you to know that I noticed. That Sam and I noticed.”

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, “We aren’t talking about him.”

“I know, and I mentioned that I know that,” Bucky’s brow was arched quizzically.

“No,” you laughed, “I mean Sam.”

Bucky relaxed back into the bed and rolled his eyes, turning back to you, giving you space to talk about Steve if you wanted.

“You,” you started, poking at Bucky’s ridiculously toned chest, “You didn’t see Steve and I before he left. He was like, well, the brother I always wished I had and I thought it had been the same for him. He was open with me about his past, about Peggy, about you, but he seemed, I dunno, “ you shrugged,”like he knew it was all in the past. I mean, with Peggy at least.”

Bucky nodded and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“I just wish he had told me,” you admitted. “I don’t think I would have been- well, no I still am, incredibly angry with him, I don’t think I would have been had he even discussed the possibility with me, even if he hadn’t come to any conclusion until he was on the platform. I would have been okay.” You felt a tear betray you and slip down your cheek, but at this point, you were well past caring. “I just-” you hiccupped, “I just wish he’d have talked to me.”

Bucky pulled you into his bare chest and wrapped his arms around you. It was in that perfect balance of warmth and weight that you finally cried, six months later.

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an-obligatory-blog · 5 years ago

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a nahyuta headcanon

slash character-study-slash-analysis

I’ve been playing SoJ for the first time (I’ve watched a playthrough beforehand) and I got this sad thought about Nahyuta in the middle of Case 3

The headcanon is this: Nahyuta’s quirk of researching anything vaguely related to a case ridiculously thoroughly (ex. memorizing rakugo scripts when knowing the definition would’ve been enough probably, watching all of Retinz’s shows, etc.) is a product of his resignation to the belief that Ga’ran and DC Act won’t go away.

Explanation under read more. SoJ spoilers ofc. Warning: I might’ve gotten a lil long winded with this post.

First, let’s establish the kind of person Nahyuta as a prosecutor is.

He is known as the Last Rites Prosecutor because of his religious beliefs.

He has a big reputation as an international prosecutor, cracking hard, difficult cases

The skill that he is known for is his “foresight” (”seeing the karmic threads of fate”)

Note: This “foresight” is referring to him “predicting the flow of the trial”-- this isn’t him being omniscient, it’s has everything to do with information (ex. predicting the defense’s arguments, using inductive reasoning to shoot down the defense’s argument (see concluding that the twins in 6-2 are silent because of a prank plan w/o having the prank script revealed to him due to his observations))

He is thorough with his investigations-- this includes researching relentlessly any kind of information that’s vaguely related to the case as mentioned earlier. He does this more in the States than Khura’in for obvious reasons.

He doesn’t tolerate perjury from witnesses or when information is hidden from him

He slings insults towards the defense with his sharp-tongue and throws beads. (As you will know after finishing SoJ, much of this is because of Ga’ran’s influence. Him hating defense attorneys so fervently is an act.)

I would like to note that a lot of these characteristics aren’t unique to Nahyuta, especially his “foresight”-- prosecutors have laid traps for the defense before. Prosecutors have predicted the defense’s arguments before. Prosecutors have been... prosecutors. They do their job. For me personally, I find this understandable because at the end of the day, I thought it was ridiculous to expect that the new prosecutor is going to pull a special move in court to the point where it feels significant to the player. This applies to Blackquill and his “psychological manipulation.” Yes, it’s there, but it’s no wonder that people have said “they haven’t done anything that prosecutors haven’t done before” or at least, “it doesn’t feel like they have.” That’s because you do the same things in court as you have done before-- you point out contradictions and voila. New gameplay mechanics makes the trial flow feel different-- not whatever the prosecutor’s specialty is (specifically DD and SoJ as they are the main culprits for that).

But what it does do for Blackquill and Nahyuta is characterization. It characterizes who they are as a prosecutor. With Blackquill, not only does it relate to being Metis’s student, but also his behavior in court-- playing mind tricks with the judge and the defense and laughing, quietly or otherwise, when they fall for it.

So here, I want to draw your attention to how it relates to Nahyuta specifically. Forget about how “other prosecutors have done this before” for a moment and take this “foresight” as a specific character trait to Nahyuta.

What does this mean? Notice how I bolded the word “information” earlier. Nahyuta’s reputation and behavior as a prosecutor is centered around the concept of “information.” The information he knows but the defense doesn’t. The information he doesn’t know but deduces from other pieces of information. The information that he gathers from the Internet from late night studying or the information he goes to a burger joint to get. Etcetera. Etcetera.

Keep this in mind and let’s step back into the main plot of Spirit of Justice.

Khura’in’s legal system is in deep shit-- to put it simply. The Defense Culpability Act essentially eliminated defense attorneys from Khura’in from being active.

The burden of delivering justice, aka “giving what people deserve”, falls entirely on the prosecution’s side.

From the perspective of (AA) court, the only way for “justice” to be served is if the prosecution is absolutely correct. After all, if the prosecution’s charges are “just”, then the court’s decision will be “just.” If they aren’t, the verdict won’t be either. That’s how it works in Khura’in during this time.

So let’s say that you’re a prosecutor in this broken system, but you still want to serve justice-- what do you do? You have to be right.

This is where why Nahyuta being an international prosecutor is important-- he’s supposed to contrast Gaspen from 6-1, who despite being Chief Prosecutor, is still incompetent. Why? Because Gaspen doesn’t care about being right-- he cares about his win streak and he can get it easy if he stays in Khura’in because there are. No. Defense attorneys. Easy wins.

You can’t do that if you’re an international prosecutor. You’re going to face a lawyer in court some way or another and you can’t just pass by without some actual skill.

You cannot improve as a prosecutor if no one is there to point out the flaws of your arguments. You cannot improve as a prosecutor if you never face a lawyer in court. You cannot improve as a prosecutor if you remain as a domestic prosecutor in Khura’in.

That’s why Nahyuta is a “skilled” prosecutor and Gaspen is not.

But wait. Nahyuta is under Ga’ran’s thumb. If all Ga’ran wanted to do was to keep Nahyuta on a leash, why appoint Nahyuta to be an international prosecutor? Wouldn’t it be easier to watch him if he stayed domestic?

This is where the “headcanon” part of this post comes in (aka the part where I make up things): Nahyuta specifically requested to become an international prosecutor to make most of the broken system: a system that has no defense attorneys.

He could’ve done this from the get-go after gaining some trust, but I like the idea of him wanting to stay domestic at first to get close to Ga’ran and help the rebel cause, but after being blackmailed and now having his mother’s and sister’s lives on the line, he requested to be an international prosecutor. Why? Because that’s the only way he’ll ever get better at being a prosecutor-- the only way to minimize the chance of making a wrongful conviction in Khura’in because he can’t afford being wrong if he wants to serve justice. And it’s not like he can just back out as a prosecutor with Ga’ran breathing down his neck. Ga’ran allows this because there’s nothing to lose with having a better prosecutor and she can just keep watch on him from overseas easily (if Inga can have spies watching the civil trial, then Ga’ran can watch Nahyuta even if he’s flying everywhere). If he truly wants to make Khura’in broken ass system to “work” as much as possible, he’ll literally have to be the perfection a von Karma dreams to be-- not just in terms of win streak like Manfred, but an actual god of prosecutors. A prosecutor that is always right because he’s borderline all-knowing.

That is an absolutely ridiculous standard.

But with a shitty legal system like Khura’in’s... perhaps that’s the only way. I’m sure by now you see the connection between “wanting to be a borderline all-knowing god of law for the sake of salvaging Khura’in’s justice” and “having your entire reputation as a prosecutor center around information”. (You can connect this to Nahyuta’s aesthetic-- a holy man who’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul.)

Of course, this is the “only way” if you just accept that DCA or Ga’ran won’t go away. The “only way”... if you resign to Ga’ran’s regime.

I like this headcanon because adds a personal layer to the qualities Nahyuta has, but shares with past prosecutors. Hidden information pissing him off/catching him off guard, him being extremely thorough with investigation to the point of studying the most seemingly pointless shit... perhaps the important thing isn’t so much he can “read the karmic threads of fate” but him “wanting to read the karmic threads of fate” hah.

But we know that even being perfect isn’t enough. 6-3 proves that and that’s why it’s special in the narrative of SoJ.

We know by 6-1 that the DCA is bullshit and by 6-5 we then knew for certain that it was just a tool by Ga’ran to remain in power by silencing her opponents. But 6-3 shows that it runs deeper than “oh we need DAs bc what if the defendant is innocent”. Nah, in 6-3, the entire incident happened BECAUSE of the DCA. You can’t brush it off as the prosecutor being shitty like in 6-1. It didn’t matter if a godlike prosecutor came in and indicts the right person every time. Nah, you NEED the presence of DAs to argue a defendant’s case-- for a person to trust/feel safe around a legal system to serve exactly what they deserve, accounting for mitigating circumstances like self-defense. When there is no faith in the potential defendant’s case, of course they are going to do illegal shit like lie in court or frame another person to take the blame-- even if you should’ve had something like self-defense on your side. Pointing at “the right guy” isn’t enough to “serve justice”.

If Nahyuta deluded himself into thinking that “maybe if I study or try hard enough, maybe that’s the best Khura’in could ever have,” he probably snapped out of it by the end of 6-3 because no, it doesn’t matter how good of a prosecutor he is as an individual, the problem is much bigger than him. Fuck, maybe he’s extra pissy in 6-4 because of that and lashes at the much more inexperienced Athena. I don’t know that’s just a wild shot in the dark.

And of course, he stays silent for Rayfa’s and Amara’s sake until the very end.

...

The inspiration of this headcanon is how the writers of SoJ made Nahyuta being “hard to read” a deliberate character trait (that he shares with his mom). We know his behaviors and his motives behind his actions, but I feel like by the end of the game, his personal feelings throughout the game is a mystery. His acting and his poker face didn’t help in that regard. I wished there was more foreshadowing in that regard-- I will never not be salty that Athena’s hearing wasn’t used as foreshadowing in 6-4 that Nahyuta doesn’t believe what he says. (or hell, maybe even in 6-2 if they really wanted to).

I don’t think I would be nearly as passionate about this character as I am now if his personal feelings was a simple, open book, of course. Despite the writing flaws that I will gripe about time to time, he’s my favorite prosecutor at the end of the day.

Side note: I like to believe that he got a good impression and liking towards Ema as a detective because 1) forensics is without a doubt, a great source of information that Khura’in didn’t have before (to a large extent) and 2) in 6-2, Ema legit fingerprinted and analyzed everything out of passion and perhaps Nahyuta felt some sort of kinship with wanting to know everything.

#ace attorney #nahyuta sahdmadhi #ace attorney meta #spirit of justice #aa6 #apologies if I misremembered something #i have a lot of feelings about this elsa looking man #first post in a good while oof

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ezroar · 5 years ago

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Broken Machines OTP Questions

From the-moon-dust-writings bc I wanted to talk about Penny and Whitley

1. Who likes to sit in the other’s lap?

Bc of their height difference, Whitley being taller, Penny will sit on his lap and lounge there. But Whitley, being touch-starved, is not above placing himself on Penny’s lap and hugging the ever-loving cheese out of her. Penny won’t tell anybody about this bc Whitley made her promise.

2. On a cold day, who likes to snuggle up to the other?

Penny is a robot … so … hmm … I suppose, provided she had sensors that extensive, she will go up to Whitley and wrap herself around his middle. Although, Penny is a walking heater, and Whitley will 100 percent take advantage of his and keep her close to his chest.

3. Who cooks the food and who does the dishes?

Whitley cannot cook. He says he is above cooking, that he has people that can do it for him, but let’s face it, the boy cannot cook. Penny, however, can. I believe she has an adaptive learning program that allows her to mimic the movement of others (i.e. chefs) and she can access wi-fi in her head and have videos play in her head. Though, there is that disconnect between robot and human that’s working for her that grows the more complex the dish is.

4. How would they describe each other to loved ones who haven’t met their partner yet?

Whitley would more likely praise Penny’s capability and abilities. And perhaps allow his cold exterior drop, if only for a moment, to talk about Penny’s kindness in a softer tone. Penny, no doubt, talks about how great Whitley is. Which is jarring for people who know Whitley as the ‘Ice King’.

5. Who is more likely to kiss their partner on their forehead?

Penny. Smooch!

6. Who makes a scrapbook of all their memories to give to their partner for a special event? Ex- anniversary, birthday, etc.

Penny. It’s a human thing she wants to try out.

But, to be honest, I think Whitley would have an album of pictures of him and Penny.

7. Where would they go to get away from everyone else and just be alone?

Penny’s a simple girl. She likes to sit on rooftops and see the skyline. Though because Whitley has sensibilities (his pants are expensive and he doesn’t like getting them dirty), she’s happy to sit at a park bench and hold Whitley’s hand.

Whitley has his office and bedroom to relax in. With the door locked, this is where he feels the most secure and, if Penny is there, he feels all the more calmer.

8. Who would want to take cute pictures for Instagram?

Penny. Although, I think she would take pictures on a polaroid just to feel more human since she can easily take pictures with her robot eyes.

9. Who would most likely call their partner, dude, babe and idiot, all in the same sentence?

…

Not even if you got Whitley drunk. He is a man of class. How dare you try to reduce his carefully cultivated vocabulary to such rubbish?

And Penny wouldn’t. Unless you tricked her.

10. How do they let their loved ones know they are dating?

Penny would state it simply. Whitley is her boyfriend. Simple fact. It’s the people around her that have trouble acknowledging such a fact because Whitley? Really?

Whitley, provided he isn’t still under Jacques’ thumb, would probably show off. ‘I’m dating Penny, the most powerful woman in the world’ in a haughty tone. He’d probably laugh at the confusion on the other person.

11. Who breaks out in a dance when they hear their favourite song and who joins their partner dancing no matter what they are currently doing?

Whitley doesn’t break out into dance (unless it’s a musical number XD, which upon he will go full Sharpay Evans and his long-suffering staff have to go along with it because they’re being paid for this). But when he hears a soft classical tune, something that of a watlz, he will extend his hand out to Penny, inviting her to dance.

12. If they each went to go buy an outfit for one another, what would they get?

Penny has simple tastes. She thinks about his favourite colours, the sort of style he likes. She’d play it safe, getting him something semi-formal. Although if she sees some cute cufflinks and a boater hat, she’s for sure getting that.

Whitley has no impulse control when it comes to Penny. He doesn’t just buy her an outfit. He buys her outfits. And his general rule when it comes to shopping for Penny: nothing but the very best. Usually, they’re very expensive clothing, in style and looks absolutely gorgeous on her. Whitley keeps in mind her colours, her personality … but he will throw in some blue and snowflakes in there ‘cause he’s possessive.

Whitley is Penny’s sugar daddy. Don’t @ me.

13. Who still blushes when their partner compliments them?

Both. But Whitley blushes more intensely than Penny’s cuz he’s not used to positive affection.

14. What memories do they share together that will stay with them forever?

Oh futz, this question is gonna make me cry XD

…

For Penny, it’s all the moments that define who he is to Penny. When he’s being cruel, when he’s happy, when he’s angry, when he’s coming out of his shell, when he’s being cold, when’s he warm. All the good and bad memories that form who Whitley is to her.

For Whitley, it’s the small moments. Penny resting her head on his shoulder as he plays the piano, leisurely walks through the garden, the bright green of her eyes as the sun shines down on her. But if Whitley were to meet Penny before she went to Beacon, he would never forget saying goodbye on the airstrip before her departure. And he would never forget seeing her broken in machines.

15. Who would dedicate a song to their partner at a karaoke night? Bonus - what song would it be and why?

Both.

Whitley is an extra biatch. This is a clear theatre ho we’re talking about here. He’d go for a musical number. Unfortunately, I am not familiar with theatre as much as I could be. But know, Whitley is a theatre ho. Everything about this boy screams drama kid. I can also see him doing some Frank Sinatra as well. ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ is a good bet. And then this kid knows Elvis. ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ is a must.

Penny is a simple girl. I can see her singing ‘Love Like You’ and ‘You are My Sunshine’. She’d go for a Disney song. I feel that she watched Tangled with Whitley when he said he had never watched Disney movies (and neither has Penny) and it’s the movie she watched with Penny so she has a special connection to ‘I See the Light’.

But, let’s be honest, she’d be singing this as a duet with Whitley.

#rwby #whitley schnee #penny poledina #broken machines #beta testers

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simone-garnett · 6 years ago

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title: only love can hurt like this pairing: snowbarry word count: 7.5k information: to marge aka @panalegs27 aka one of the greatest, sweetest, kindest people on this site, and one of my closest friends. hope you have a wonderful birthday and that you’re spoiled rotten and that you take a tonne of cute photos (bc guys, her curls are the most adorable things ever). i could spend hours talking about how wonderful and nice and gorgeous you are, could write an essay longer than this fic (and this is 7 500 words!) i won’t, but just know i’m forever grateful you messaged me on tumblr. love you <3

prequel to this ; the p&p au (of that scene)

ffn /// ao3

Receiving the invitation from Julian and Patricia to stay at their abode comes as a surprise to Barry, who didn’t think that either of them would think that fondly of him. He had rejected her proposal after all, though it came from a place of kindness than that of love.

The sentiment was sweet, protecting him and the West household from possession of the estate through their marriage, but he couldn’t marry her for that alone, couldn’t imagine marrying her at all. But introducing her to Julian had been exactly what they both wanted. Two people with similar interests and temperament, people who were sharp but sweet and caring. It had been a casual introduction in town, after all, he and Julian could be considered acquaintances and work colleagues at best. But Patty, with her bashful smile and sparkling eyes had caught Julian’s attention immediately, the pair spending their time courting each other. It had filled Barry with happiness, seeing the pair of them together, Patty listening - contributing - to Julian’s explanation of the new scientific advancements made at the university where he had studied. They seemed to always be enraptured by the other and Barry, knowing he was responsible for the introduction, took full credit for their relationship.

Even if he didn’t envision them getting married so soon.

He accepts the invitation immediately.

It had been kind of Julian to move to Patty’s home after the marriage, practical, as it was closer to the university he had wanted to be transferred to, but kind all the same, no confirmation of the transfer occurring until after they had agreed.

And Barry, as the coach approaches the home, can’t help but feel as though it were the right decision. Because the gardens were incredible, enough paths and acreage to walk and get lost in. The air is more fresh, the flowers more colourful and in bloom. The south is wonderful, and he knows he should travel England a lot more than he currently does, especially if there were places such as this awaiting him.

Patty is standing at the front door when the driver pulls up the cottage, a beaming smile on her face, positively glowing with joy. He doesn’t waste a second to jump out of the carriage, his arms around her, pulling his cousin into a hug, chuckling as she tightens her arms around him, a squeal of delight leaving her as he is here, finally here. He doesn’t want it to end, a rush of emotions hitting him after being separated for so long. Barry hadn’t fully understood just how fond of her he was, not until she was here in his arms.

It is then he processes the weight pressing against his stomach, the small bulge that was hidden by her dress.

“You’re -” The words leave him, awe shining in his eyes as his hands hover over her own, the bump more prevalent with her hugging it protectively. And her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, a smile so wide on her lips.

She nods quickly, hands wiping away the tears as they pour out the sides of her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He stutters over his words, but the smile of pride says what he can’t.

“I told Julian we should name it Bartholemew, after the man who had introduced us a little over a year ago.”

It elicits a wet laugh from both of them, a feeling swelling inside Barry’s chest that he couldn’t describe. “I don’t think he would have appreciated that.”

“If I wasn’t pregnant I’m sure he would have kicked me out of the bed.” A noise undignified leaves his mouth at the comment, so wholly untrue. Julian would never, so in love with her he wouldn’t consider anything but having her right by his side. She rolls her eyes at the noise, and the sound of the carriage pulling away breaks up the conversation. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

He collects his luggage and follows her inside the house, Patty showing him to his room, allowing Barry to familiarise himself with the location. It is a perfect place for her, for them, and he couldn’t be any more pleased that she had found herself a doting husband and a wonderful house.

Barry ignores that soft pang inside himself, ignores the longing for his own partner and home and child.

And he settles into his room.

It is sunset when Julian finally arrives at the house, a brisk handshake all that he offers the Barry. Patty, he offers something much more affectionate, a gentle kiss on the back of her palms, words whispered that Barry couldn’t hear for they were not for his ears.

It brings a blush to Patty’s cheeks, and Barry finds himself turning away, ignoring the fascination that bubbles up inside him at the glimpse he had, ignoring the feeling of loneliness, the desire to find a love like theirs.

They settle down for the afternoon, Julian regaling stories of his work, Barry and Patty listening in interest. It is only when the clock strikes seven that Patty is drawn from the world of scientific curiosity and discussion they had all fell to. She jumps up from her seat, a conversation without a word spoken, done between her and Julian. His eyes light up and it has a nervousness settling into Barry’s bones.

“Come on Barry,” Patty says, tugging him into a standing position, a keen eye scanning his outfit before nodding sharply to herself. “We’re going to Cisco’s for dinner. His laboratory is simply incredible, you must see it.”

Julian nods at her words, a slap on the back as leaves the room to freshen up. “Come on mate, loosen up. It’ll be a blast.”

If he hopes for an explanation to who this Cisco is, he doesn’t receive it until the walk to the house, Patty reciting all his accomplishments and interests. Apparently a love of science had bonded the two neighbours, the Albert’s often spending hours with Mr Ramon, endless topics spoken and debated until exhaustion.

Barry feels as if he knows the man before they reach the front door, can feel a kinship with him that he hopes will translate into reality.

It does.

The man is just as sweet as he sounds, a wide smile on his face comes to the door, the servants hovering over his shoulder, ready to take their coats. He is an affectionate man, pulling the Albert’s into a hug, gentle and lingering and Barry can feel the love between the trio.

“Cisco!” The exclamation is muffled by his shoulder, Patty pulling away and smiling brightly. Barry almost feels like an intruder on the threesome, but she gestures toward him, barely a word out of her mouth before Mr Ramon pulls him into a hug of his own, pulling away far too quickly, a dazed Barry unsure of anything, not when Mr Ramon puts his hands on his shoulders and gives him a brisk shake.

“It is very nice to meet you my good man.” There a wide smile on this stranger’s face, and Barry finds himself relaxing immediately, a kindred spirit found in Mr Ramon’s soul. It could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, he thinks. He hopes.

“You seem happy mate.” Julian elbows Mr Ramon in the side, a twinkle in his eyes.

It is as though the question brings more life into the man’s bodily frame, a joy lighting up his countenance. “Caitlin and Ronnie are staying for a while.” And he cannot hide the delight he feels, smile stretching further as he utters the words.

It doesn’t strike Barry that the Caitlin Mr Ramon spoke of would also be his Caitlin. Not that Miss Snow was his Caitlin, but rather, the only Caitlin he had the displeasure of being acquainted with.

But then they all walk towards the sitting room, and he sees her there standing, a slinky green dress on, the young woman leaning on the back of a chair, talking to a tall, dark-haired man, head tilted back in laughter.

And oh, he thinks.

Oh.

(Oh no.)

The dinner is stilted, or maybe it is just Barry, because no one else seems to pick up on the tension in the room. Miss Snow seems to be in an intimate conversation with Mr Raymond, whispering quietly with each other, secret smiles and soft words shared between them. He doesn’t know why it distracts him so, captivating him more than it should.

“So you lived near Netherfield Park?” His head jerks to Mr Ramon, distracted from the conversations around him.

“Hmm, yeah.” He nods sharply.

“So you know Miss Snow then? When she was staying with the Thawne’s?” There is almost an excitement in Mr Ramon’s smile, the man distracted from his meal at the mere notion.

His gaze flits to her against his will, lingering as she smiles and laughs with Mr Raymond. “Yeah, we’re acquainted.”

It feels like an inaccurate word to describe them. But it is all he can think of.

“She -” Mr Ramon clears his throat and it is that which pulls Barry’s attention away from the lady on the other side of the table and toward the man he was conversing with. “She was treated well there, wasn’t she?” His question is met with silence, Barry far too surprised by the urgency and concern in the tone of Mr Ramon to consider answering it, of alleviating his fears. It prompts Mr Ramon to stumble on, pressing the importance of the question. “She won’t speak much of her trip there, of the people. And I fear there was an incident that may have troubled her. So, I was hoping...” He sighs and there is a shift in the aura surrounding is dampened when in comparison to but ten minutes previous. It is dramatic and Barry appreciates just how much he cares for his friend.

“How did the two of you become acquainted?” It isn’t a question he was anticipating, Barry left momentarily speechless at his own words. Because he cared not for her, cared nothing about her past, her life. But he was intrigued now, no matter how much he didn’t want to care. The words soften Mr Ramon, the man’s demeanour lighting up at the memories.

“You’ve met Mr Thawne, have you not? He -to my knowledge - also resided in Netherfield Park for the time?” A nod encourages him to continue on, Mr Ramon quickly becoming lost in his past. “Well, Miss Snow was almost an adoptive member of the Thawne family, her father and him oft in discussions with regards to their work. She studied, she learnt, and when I became a pupil of Mr Thawne, she became my best friend. And when my elder brother died -” He cuts himself off, and the anguish of the loss still shines in his eyes. “I don’t know how I would have kept myself together if not for her unwavering loyalty and support. Miss Snow is worth 100 good men and you must forgive me, but I will always be protective of her.”

There is much more that Mr Ramon would not divulge, Barry can see it in the looks that he shouldn’t be privy to, the repressed feelings that could never be spoken aloud. And it makes no sense, how the cold, uncaring woman who despises dancing, could inspire such loyalty and devotion as she did from Mr Ramon, how she could possibly be a rock to such a loving and caring man when she was so unfeeling herself.

It shakes him to his core, this new version of Miss Snow that he had never been exposed to before. “Mr Ramon -” Barry stops, Mr Ramon lifting a hand, silencing him without a single world.

“Cisco, please. I think you’re entitled to that after I bore my soul to you like I did.”

It brings a flicker of a smile to Barry’s lips. “Cisco then. I do believe that she was treated well by the Thawne’s. They seemed very generous and, from what I gathered, they both seemed determined to have her involved and a part of the family, I imagine.” His words seem to soothe Cisco, the man relaxing in his chair, a lingering smile on his lips as he nods at Barry’s words. It is that which encourages him to continue, Barry leaning in conspiratorially, “though there were balls and, even though men outnumbered women, she refused to dance.”

But she did dance, he thinks. Once.

With him.

Barry doesn’t confess that, not to Cisco, barely even to himself.

They migrate to the drawing room, Miss Snow gravitating towards the pianoforte, the men and Patty distracted by conversations of possible technological advancements being debated in Oxford. They were all educated and opinionated, and, had the situation been any different, he would find himself just as vocal, just as fierce in his arguments.

But Barry finds something else, someone else, holding his attention and he cannot find it in himself to stop.

She plays the piano elegantly, fingers dancing over the ebony and ivory keys, barely a smile on her lips even while the music itself was lively and joyful, bringing the rest of their spirits to high levels.

He finds himself paying less attention to the talk around him and more to the woman on the other side of the room, a musical instrument beneath her fingers and a gift he could only hope to achieve a fraction of. She is alone and isolated over there, voluntarily, losing herself in the music.

Barry looks, but he can’t see it, can’t see how the cold, uncaring lady who hates dancing and brushes off others like dirt on her clothing could possibly be the same woman Cisco says she was. It is impossible to reconcile the woman he knew and the one he was told she could be.

It haunts him throughout the night, but he can’t see himself mentioning it to anyone else

“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Mr Raymond approaches him, his presence startling Barry out of the trance he had slipped into without ever realising. “She’s been able to play like that ever since her father bought her a pianoforte at ten and four.”

“You’ve known her for that long?”

Mr Raymond chuckles at the surprise in Barry’s voice. “We’ve known each other since the cot.”

“And you’re...” Barry drifts off, biting his bottom lip to stop the rest of the question from tumbling out.

“Oh no.” He laughs it off but he can’t mask the longing underlying it. “Just childhood friends.”

It doesn’t make sense, her ability to make everyone fall in love with her, not when her demeanour and treatment of others isn’t tolerable in the slightest.

It distracts him, Barry watching her, not with disdain but curiosity.

And when he leaves Cisco’s home that night, he isn’t sure what he feels toward Miss Snow anymore.

Patty and Barry pull up at Cisco’s home late Friday morning, Julian having ducked out of their house to attend the university. Patty had taken Barry around the town throughout the week, but discussion with her on Thursday night alerted him to the fact that she frequented the Ramon home every Friday morning.

It is an hour before noon when they finally arrive, breakfast a longer affair than usual, Patty rummaging through sheets of paper in her room to find what she was looking for, a exclamation of joy when she finds the formulae she had spent a week working to perfect before the weekly meeting.

Cisco opens the door, eyes alight as he drags both of them into the house, rambling on about his discoveries and potential theories. It is like a whirlwind for Barry, a barrage of information he can make neither head nor tail out of, and he seems to be the only one, Patty responding to Cisco’s ramblings with those of her own.

Finally they stop and he can take stock of where they are. The laboratory.

And, Barry concedes, the Albert’s were right, the laboratory was incredible.

He wanders around it with child-like glee, eyes wide and mind scrambling to understand how everything works and its purpose. He makes a full circuit of the room before realising that Mr Raymond and Miss Snow had joined them. Three of them had started talking but Miss Snow, he realises, while listening, wasn’t making any contributions to the conversation. Her eyes catch him and he struggles to not look away in response, Barry making deliberate steps to join the group.

“I was going to take a walk through the gardens,” she states out loud, the other conversation dying momentarily as they all turned to listen to her. “You are welcome to join me Mr Allen if you so choose.” In a hushed whisper she continues, “Cisco and Patty are in the middle of a project and while I could try and understand, they are months into development and it would take far too much time away from them for explanations. Ronnie is only there because they had been mailing each other letters on the topic. Feel free to stay however, it’s just an offer.” There is a smile on her lips, or at least, there is the teasing of one, Miss Snow looking so much more happier than he had seen her yet.

It was a drastic shift from her norm.

And, he thinks later that night when reflecting on his actions, this is why he says what he does.

“I - okay then Miss Snow, if you don’t mind the company.”

She smiles more brightly at his acceptance and, not for the first time, he wonders if he had mischaracterised her completely.

The walk is brisk and conversation is scattered and scarce, but it is different. It is though he is seeing Miss Snow in a new light, sunlight shining down on the woman, illuminating her in its rays. And he stops, much more than he would on any normal walk, the excuse of appreciating the beauty of his surroundings stumbles off of his tongue when she stops, a quizzical expression on her face.

It is what he doesn’t tell her that is the cause of his embarrassment, because it wasn’t only nature’s beauty he was appreciating in the beautiful spring sunshine,

it was also her own.

The church is stunning, Cisco and Miss Snow encouraging them all to attend with them that Sunday morning.

And Barry can’t really avoid attending, not when Patty was delivering the sermon, Julian and Mr Raymond - Ronnie - also going. Luckily Barry manages to be seated by Ronnie, the man with a horrible habit of fidgeting. He discovers quickly that Ronnie is a man of action, that staying still for hours isn’t comfortable. Ronnie is a kindred spirit he isn’t expecting and, although he feels guilty, Barry can’t help but lean side ward and start a conversation during the sermon.

Patty glares at them from the pulpit, their quiet whispering obvious even to her. He knows the moment that they get home he will be scolded and can only hope that Julian will be there to soothe her before her anger overwhelms.

It’s Julian, so he doubts it.

“So, how long are you here for?” Barry asks, head ducked as though her were reading from the Bible and not talking to his new friend.

Ronnie chuckles, to himself and out loud. “For however long Caitlin is, I’m at her command.” It takes Barry by surprise and yet, it makes perfect sense, fits into the mould he has of her. Or rather, the one that he had for so long. Demanding, cold. Of course she was take pleasure in dictating the lives of her friends. And maybe he wasn’t so off on his perception of her after all. He needs to bite his tongue to hold back the retort - there is no universe where his words would be taken kindly by his company. “I think she’ll want to go back to London soon, what with Edward and his constant depressions.”

It takes all the strength Barry has not to freeze at the mention of Eddie. “Oh, why?” The false lightness in his voice is grating to his ears but there is an obliviousness to it by Ronnie that Barry can’t help but feel thankful for.

“Oh, apparently back at Netherfield there was a girl.” Ronnie seems to light up at the chance to converse and gossip. “Cute, but using the poor man, so Caitlin put a swift end to that. He’s nursing a broken heart, but god - imagine if he had pursued it further, he would be more devastated.”

The rest of Ronnie’s words fade into nothingness, the pieces falling together. And oh, how he had misdirected the blame at everyone but the culprit of his sister’s unhappiness.

“Was it -” His voice catches, “was it because of her colour?”

“God no.” Ronnie manages to look ashamed at the glare thrown his way from Patty, his exclamation too loud to disguise. Not enough to shut up however. “Caitlin would never care for that. Apparently he loved more fiercely than she ever did.”

The feeling of betrayal is swift, clawing at his heart, the beating organ slowed by the viscous black coating of the emotion. He had started to believe his impression of her was wrong, and he was correct. For she was much worse than he had ever envisaged, more heartless than he had ever imagined. It was her, she was responsible for upending the happiness of his sister, of the tears and the denial and the heart break.

It was Miss Snow.

The clap of thunder is nothing to deter Barry from taking a walk after the Sunday sermon, ignoring the calls by the Albert’s to wait for a carriage, confused looks from Mr Raymond and Cisco doing nothing to discourage him or slow his stride. He brushes past them, ignoring the rules of propriety that he had always sworn by. There was a darkening of the sky, a promise that wouldn’t fail to be delivered, but he goes on. The spring shower is nothing to compare with the storm of emotions inside him,

Barry is unaware that he is followed, not when the rain starts storming down, not as he starts running, the burning in his lungs unable to ease the pain in his heart. All he can think, all he can see is Iris, tears streaming down her face when she was unaware of his presence, of the way she tried to hold herself together when the moving of Mr Edward Thawne left her heart falling apart.

She didn’t deserve the agonies inflicted upon her, but to hear that Miss Snow was responsible, that she found the separation a point of pride and not a source of shame and embarrassment... it leaves an emptiness inside of him that he wants to explain away, that he cannot.

He can only find himself able to breathe when he is unable to do so, the burning in his chest a resultant of exhaustion more than heart ache. It is only now that he considers his surroundings, the sky black.

And as he looks up, does the rain come down.

There is a gazebo in the distance, and he takes his time approaching it, choosing to sit and wait for the storm to pass than endeavour to make his way to the cottage, or at least Rosings Parks.

But then he sees a figure in the distance, and as the person approaches he feels his heart fall to the floor. Fate is a fickle mistress, because he came here to avoid her and now she’s the only one he can see. Miss Snow runs quickly, the hem of her dress ruined by the mud, the rest of it by the rain.

She is soaking from the rain, dress utterly ruined, hair stringy and clinging to her face. But she is still beautiful. And he hates her for it.

“What are you doing here?”

She appears oblivious to the hatred dripping in his voice, Miss Snow wiping the hair out of her face. He can barely look at her, Barry choosing to pace instead. The anger bubbles just under the surface, an uncontrollable monster so close to breaching the surface. It wouldn’t be right to lash out though he desires to. “I - I had to come after you. I couldn’t just leave you to storm off alone, not when you were so obviously distressed by something.”

Her words cause him to stop, Barry turning to her, confusion and anger warring inside him. “Why would you even care?”

She takes a step toward him, looks at him beseechingly and it makes no sense, this callous woman attempting to show any semblance of emotion. “You know, surely you know -”

“What?!” And like that the monster inside reaches the surface, Barry snapping at her.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense, it certainly isn’t advantageous in any way for me. But you can’t control matters of the heart and even though it goes against everything I was taught, even given, the circumstances of your family and the your rank. I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t so, it would only make sense to accept it and -”

“The circumstances of my family?” And it is incredulous, the words he is hearing, the way it cuts through him. “What are you trying to say Miss Snow?” The rein he manages on his emotions is miraculous, but he tries.

“Surely you know the gossip that follows you, father hanged for the murder of his wife, the boy suffering delusions following the death he witnessed. The rumours that follow you; none of this makes sense and yet I cannot help but feel as I do.”

“May I ask for the reason that you followed me, only to make disparaging comments about those I care for?”

“I love you.” She shrugs helplessly, and he can’t tell if it is raindrops or tears rolling down the sides of her face. “I’ve tried not to, I’ve wanted not to. But I do.”

Barry startles, unprepared for her words. “Well then, I apologise for pain you’ve endured. I did not mean to inflict it.” They come out terse, his jaw clenched in anger.

“I - Are you mocking me?” And she has the gall to act hurt, as though she were an innocent in this.

“No, I would never.” The derision in his tone is evident, and though his words have the appearance of civility, they both are aware of the disgust beneath them. “I’m just unsure as to what you want. An apology is the best I can offer you, unless you were seeking a proposal?” The look on her face betrays her emotion. It is enough to elicit a broken laugh from Barry, the man looking skyward, in disbelief and awe. “Were you truly? After you have denied, perhaps forevermore, the happiness of my sister?” And it is his words which finally bring out the Miss Snow he was familiar with, the cold woman with ice in place of a heart.And he keeps on pushing her, pushing and pushing until he could make her snap as she did him. “Or what - are you pretending to be innocent in the mess you orchestrated? That Mr Thawne was simply compelled to leave Netherfield Park and Iris without the encouragement of you.” His words are bitter, the glare thrown her direction sharp. “You broke them up, and for what? Jealousy?”

It elicits a laugh, an empty bark of laughter. “Jealousy - of what? It was obvious that Eddie was more attached to her than she him.” His lips curl into a sneer at the use of Mr Edward Thawne’s Christian name, and a nickname moreover. “I love my friend dearly and if making tough decisions to help protect his heart needed to be made by me than so be it.” There was pride in her tone, a satisfaction that makes him sick.

“You know nothing of what she has gone through.” Anger sustains him more than he could have determined, it warms him up, Barry almost vibrating with rage.

Miss Snow, cold and clinical, is more measured in her voice. And heavens above, he thinks, how could he have imagined her to be any different than what she is? “Pray tell me why she wouldn’t make any indications of anything more than casual affection for a man who was so clearly devoted to her?”

And it’s the dismissal of Iris’ deep feelings that rile him up once more. “Oh, excuse me,” he scoffs. “But you were not a witness of the scorn and abuse she received simply for the colour of her skin. Of course she isn’t well versed in showing the world her feelings, she barely shows her true emotions to me!” There is a measured pause, Barry taking the time to steady himself, blinking away the tears burning his eyes. “People, ever since she was but a child, have taken pleasure in her pain, and Iris learnt to hide the hurt, to not give them the satisfaction of a response. So please, forgive her if hiding her true emotions is something she’s been forced to do since childhood. But that does not mean for one moment that she doesn’t feel deeply, and for Mr Thawne -” a weak smile crosses his face, tainted by painful memories of a past he had witnessed, but not lived. “She was happy with him, she was so very earnestly happy with him, and to take that away...”

There is remorse in her eyes, Miss Snow struck silent by his words. “I - I’m sorry. I didn’t realise - I could only make judgements on what I witnessed -”

He ignores her, Barry charging ahead. “Oh, and what of Jay Garrick?”

So caught up in his emotion, does he miss how she stops breathing, how she freezes. If he looked closely, if he dared to, he’d see the sliver of pain and fear lurking beneath her tough exterior. But he does not, chooses not to.

And in an instant that vulnerability is gone, her emotions sealed off. “I know no one by that name.” Her voice is clipped and that, he notices, notices the sharp way she addresses someone whose life she had, once again, ruined.

The growl of frustration takes them both by surprise, Barry running his fingers through his hair, rain droplets disturbed and sent rolling down his face. He continues to pace around the gazebo, piercing gaze still focussing on her, unable to be anywhere else. “Why do you choose to continue lying to me? How could this possibly be the basis could a relationship stem from?” There is sarcasm coating his words.

“Why do you persist to ask questions on issues you are not privy to?” And there is a flare of emotion, one he hadn’t seen in her, so usually detached and unfeeling. “Drop. It.”

“I know enough, but please, enlighten me.” There is a cruel edge to his voice, Barry looking down on her, Miss Snow’s eyes aflame with fire and heat and it is cold outside. He craves warmth.

It is only then he realises that, in the heat of their argument, they had drawn closer. So much closer in fact. He sees the dusting of freckles across her nose, the pigment standing out more now than previously before, her skin now pale and white. He watches as her eyes dart from one side of his face to the other, watches how they drop to his lips. He watches how she licks her own in response.

She lingers and it makes him painfully aware, unable to not notice how their chests brush against each other’s with each inhale. The shift in the atmosphere is sharp, the air electrifying around then. And he can’t help but remember his traitorous thoughts, of how beautiful she is, of the feeling inside his chest when he first laid his eyes upon her. Because up close, where he can admire her, admire all of her, it is a dangerous position to be in. Her bottom lip trembles, he notices, probably from the chill settling into her bones, dress and skin soaked from the torrential rain that had run through but an hour before. He shouldn’t be distracted by such a small movement as her lips, but he finds it easier to stare at than her eyes, so bright and bewitching.

She leans in towards him, the minute distance between them shrinking at her motion. He thinks it for warmth, thinks she is drawn to his own, but her eyes betray a truth he isn’t expecting, but unsurprising all the same. They flicker down to his own lips, and they linger, gaze almost tracing the outline.

“Is this your answer then?” She whispers the words, still so close to him. It feels intimate, soft voices and close bodies, and it scares him, scares him because he hadn’t made a move to leave. And he should. “You want nothing to do with me?”

He almost nods in response to her question, catching himself only moments before he does so. Because they were still close, too close. If he were to even try he would brush lips with her. And that would be dangerous - he isn’t sure how he’d respond if it were to happen.

“You destroyed, possibly forever, the happiness of the one woman I love. I could never forgive you for that, and I would never forgive myself for even contemplating anything more.” His words are soft, but lethal, her head turning to the side as though it were a physical blow.

“Okay,” and she takes the step away from him. He longs for her proximity once more, even as he despises himself for the baser thoughts. She nods to him, to herself, her tongue heavy in her mouth. “Okay.”

And like a ghost she vanishes from his sight, Barry left standing there for hours after and no more settled.

It is a cruel thing to inflict on Patty, his beloved cousin watching in concern as he retreats to his room, a feeble excuse on his lips as to why he couldn’t attend the luncheon at the Ramon house. He knows it is weak, knows it hurts her and angers Julian, but he cannot muster the strength to leave the house, is unsure if he possessed the control needed to face Miss Snow once more without bursting into another argument with her.

He can’t fathom the idea of seeing *her* there, can’t stomach the idea of pretending nothing had previously happened.

It is cowardice that leads him to hide in his room, but he knows and acknowledges that fact, if not to everyone else then to himself.

But Patty allows him this flaw, her and Julian pulling away in their carriage, leaving him alone in their abode to stew in the torrent of emotions that had crept on him, now threatening him like a tidal wave, moments away from being swept up by it.

It can only be but an hour after they leave that there is a knock on the door, Barry moving to open the door, to blinded by his feelings to question who would be at the door at this time.

He should have,

because it was her.

It was Miss Snow.

Neither of them speak initially, her shallow breaths filling the air as she watches him with wide eyes, flinching at the hatred burning within his.

“I realise I’m the last person you would like to see,” she starts, lips pursed together tightly after the finishing the sentence. “You accused me of various grievous attacks on my friends and yours alike, I just ask for the opportunity to defend myself against these crimes.” She holds out a letter to him, and Barry, too overcome with surprise and curiosity, takes it from her hand, Miss Snow flinching as his fingers brush against her bare hands.

She turns her back on him quickly, Barry left staring outside long after she left, the warm night’s breeze doing nothing to heat up his cold skin. But finally, finally, when he was sure he wouldn’t immediately burn the paper in his hands, does he go and close the door, retreating to his room.

It is with shaking hands, of anger, of fear and trepidation, does he open the letter, eyes greedily scanning for its content, its justifications, its excuses.

Dear Mr Allen,

I accept the rejection you made abundantly clear last Sunday, have no fear, I am not repeating my feelings. I do, however, feel as though you perjure me with these ill-conceived notions you cling to most ardently. So, if you permit me the time, I feel I must explain my actions.

In order to adequately address your former alleged grievance, I must first explain the latter...

The feeling of revulsion overwhelms him when he finally learns the truth between her and Jay - Hunter. She was still a girl, not yet sixteen when she had met the older man, tall and handsome and dignified. There was still a few months before she would be formally introduced to society and, having spent so long in the laboratories, trailing her mother and father and, after that Mr Thawne, quenching her scientific thirst, interactions with males her age was limited.

It doesn’t take long for her to fall in love with the mysterious older man who bestowed upon her affection and gifts, who made her feel treasured and special. She was but a child, unaware of the cruelties of other people, not yet jaded by the human experience. Pure.

She had never imagined it would be used against her.

They had planned to elope, she confesses, ink smudged from what he could only assume were tears of a pain and past not yet healed. The paper crinkled from drying, the torrent of tears making it uneven and rough. He tries to smooth it with his hands, as though the action could soothe the heart which wrote it. He fails in his efforts and he grunts in frustration, running fingers through his hair before picking up the letter and continuing.

She had fallen in love with the man she believed Hunter to be,

he had fallen in love with her wealth.

She recites in clinical detail the abuse she had endured by his hand, the bruises, the tears, the verbal assaults. And she had endured it for so long, his apologies and soothing words enough to make her forgive and forget.

Miss Snow had been shaking, he realised. She had been made to relive all her pain for him, to explain herself to him.

Barry wasn’t sure how deep his self-loathing was until that very thought.

And so, reading of Eddie, of the boy who saved her from the neglect of her parents while she was but a child, who was her only friend in the world at such an age, of the man who had saved her from the depths of despair she had spiralled towards, it made everything more clear. He was her saviour, noticing the marks, the abuse. He had convinced her to abandon the plans, had protected her when Hunter sought his revenge on the woman.

Eddie was more than a person in her eyes, he was her guardian angel, her greatest friend, her confidant. He was why she felt safe opening up to other men, why she didn’t completely shy away from society, limiting herself to associations only with Eddie and Ronnie and Cisco.

And he understands her fear, her concern of seeing her closest friend and ally fall for the same schemes she had but a decade earlier. It hurts him to think that anyone could look at Iris in such a way so as to believe she would be capable of such deceit. But he has the benefit of a past with her, Miss Snow had nothing to rely on but the scars of her past romantic entanglement.

It makes sense that she would seek to protect him, that she would endeavour to stop him from jumping into a marriage without love, not when she was so close so as to taste, however briefly, the potential consequences of such an action. It was wrong, she was wrong. But it was understandable.

Barry devours the letter, again and then once more, memorising each detail contained within it, each turn of phrase, every full stop and comma. It stays with him long after he puts the sheets of paper down. As he lays in his bed the words haunt him, images flashing through his mind, memories more poignant with context.

His hatred of himself increases as his of her dies.

And all he knows it that he must, he must see her once more.

It is with that thought he finally allows himself to fall asleep.

The next night he does attend the dinner, anticipation thrumming though his veins at the notion of meeting her again. He isn’t sure how he would respond, nor did the rules of etiquette explain how he should. For she had bore her soul to him, had confessed feelings and secrets for his benefit.

The anger that had sustained him had evaporated, disappeared into nothingness, a confusion left in its place

His fears are for nought, a despondent Cisco telling them that Miss Snow had fallen victim to a terrible cold, after running through the rain Sunday afternoon. It takes all his strength to not stand upright and ask to visit her, the impropriety of the action the only thing holding him to his seat.

He wonders if she told anything to Cisco, but the man still embraces him with a warm smile and open arms so he believes her to not have. It leaves him itching to go and see her, to make sure that she is safe and healthy and taking care of herself.

So he could apologise and apologise until a book could be filled with his words, so that he could explain his feelings and emotions and not lash out at her.

But he couldn’t, her maid taking care of her, a firm woman who wouldn’t let any one interrupt Miss Snow’s recovery. And it is selfish of him to want to disregard the warning, Barry uncaring for his own health in that instant, a moment with Miss Snow worth more than his own heartiness. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t get away with it even if he tried, both Cisco and Ronnie anxious to have her in full health, sparing no expense to achieve their need.

And so he comes back night after night, hoping for her to be well enough to come down for dinner, for her to be kind enough to listen to his apologies. He had been prejudiced, made assumptions. And while she wasn’t perfect, she was the monster he envisioned.

There was a fleeting thought, a question. Because if she was no longer the cold witch he had seen her as, if she was no longer a bundle of contradictions,

what would he now see her as?

It is a week when Patty receives a letter, Cisco sending her information of Miss Snow’s recovery. It has her smiling in glee, Patty determined to visit immediately and greet her newest friend. The news leaves Barry’s body locked in position, a rush of emotion flooding his body.

It was his first opportunity to talk to her, it was his only real opportunity.

He doesn’t intend to squander it away.

However he was able to form coherent sentences he’ll never fully understand, but he manages to convince Patty that he should go ahead and alone, that she should wait for Julian to return in a quarter of an hour - the man would be confused if he returned to an empty home and, what is fifteen minutes when they would have the night to catch up.

He doesn’t wait for the carriage to be set up, Barry choosing to run to their neighbours property, his speed not once slowing as he approached the home, his mind a flurry of thoughts, unsure where he would start, what he would confess, the words that would come out.

But eventually he makes it to the door, Barry almost doubling over due to his exertion, breathing air a new difficulty.

The door opens before he could knock, a pensive Cisco ready to step out. But then he catches sight of Barry, arm raised, an expectant look on his face. There is a rage that contorts his face, a look that looks misplaced on Cisco’s normally cheery expression. And Barry knows in that moment, knows she had told Cisco the truth. The other man only has to spit out two words for confirmation, acid in his voice, burning Barry down to the bone.

He has the door slammed on his face,

and Caitlin,

she was gone.

#snowbarry #snowbarry fic #caitlin snow #barry allen #the flash #with bonuses of #cisco ramon #and #ronnie raymond #ruthie writes #marge tag #hbd!!!#sorry it isn't fangs #but that cutie pie is for christmas gifts only :P

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years ago

Text

Stars and Stitches [fic]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kei has never been crazy about going out on Valentine's Day, and he and his boyfriend know how dangerous it can be on top of that. Instead, he'd much rather stay in for his celebrations, and he's glad Tetsurou is now on the same page.

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing, some making out bc you know the drill

Note: Hello! I made it in time for Valentine’s Day lol. This is my gift for @momomirasaki124 for the @hqvalentineexchange <3 I tried to incorporate most of your prompts, so I really hope you enjoy ; ; Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!

AO3

The sounds someone should hear in the morning are easy enough to guess...

The muffled sounds of traffic, a few birds chirping, and maybe some dulled footsteps from the sidewalk just outside. All of it together marks the beginning of a new, work filled day, which Kei would rather not think about.

Today is different at least.

What Kei hears is different too, and the sounds automatically make his mornings better than most people's. His alarm has become the distinct crack of Tetsurou's back as he stretches to get up.

It happens so often, Kei can now expect it, count on it. If a morning comes without the three little pops of Tetsurou's spine, then can it really be a new day? Not in his book.

He's happy they've reached the age where Tetsurou has stopped going on business trips so much. Mornings are way less dread filled these days.

"Ah fuckin shit," Tetsurou curses, one of the only few times Kei gets to hear him curse, because the other is far too much of a goody goody for that. Kei cherishes it.

It's a constant now. Like Kei spilling sauce on his shirt at dinner, or Tetsurou stubbing his toe at the end of the bed. Routines are hard to break.

He snorts as Tetsurou touches his lower back out of shock, as if this doesn't happen every damn day.

And, like clockwork, Kei delivers his line: "Quit whining old man."

It's his favorite, because Tetsurou is far from old in his book, and looks about ten years younger than he is. It's unfair. But while Kei may look like an older man, Tetsurou is the one who's beginning to complain like one.

"I don't know if we should order that, it looks sort of spicy doesn't it?"

"Kei, that's way past our bedtime."

"Can you believe the neighbors let their yard look like that?"

And fuck it, Kei laughs harder, especially when Tetsurou finally looks at him.

Tetsurou turns to him, eyes beady from sleep, his brain still working out how to distinguish shapes instead of blobs. Not like he needs much cognitive power to deal with his little shit of a husband, which he'll probably realize in .2 seconds. The raven's hair is as much a mess as it ever was, except now some of the hairs are more of a dull gray than a sleek black. Doesn't really bug Kei much. He still pulls on it, whether they're having sex or when Tetsurou clogs up the DVR with sci-fi movies.

Tetsurou complains about how he's probably going to go bald at sixty because of Kei. Kei pulls harder.

Wigs are a thing.

They have their little staring contest for another few seconds before Kei regrets his decisions. In response to his smug little grin, Tetsurou unleashes a new tactic, one Kei simply cannot overcome.

Tetsurou farts.

Yup like a twelve-year old.

It's loud too, and Kei's not about to stick around for the smell. They'd had a big dinner the night before.

What a fool he'd been.

Tetsurou just lets one rip right into their newly washed bedspread and Kei may not be a big athlete anymore, but the speed at which he jumps out of bed is unrivaled. His knees buckle because Kei never stopped being a baby giraffe in some sense, and he topples over, his brain not awake enough to communicate to his legs that uh hey, you guys can walk you know?

"I want a divorce," Kei mutters, staying on the floor because why not? It's fun down here.

Tetsurou gasps, leaning over the bed cautiously so that his face is peeking down at Kei. The image is almost cute enough for Kei to forgive him. Almost. "On Valentine's Day? That's a bit cruel isn't it babe?"

Kei throws a pillow at him, and since they're not above this kind of retributive justice, a war ensues. Kei always insists on having a shitload of pillows on their bed, though half of them end up on the floor and Tetsurou ends up only using two, but it's for the aesthetic™ okay?

Also, Kei likes having a good supply of weaponry. Some of these are back support pillows. They can kill, and he knows it.

The fun ends when Tetsurou stubs his toe on the edge of the bed again, and Kei doesn't care about counting it as a cease fire. He fuckin' won, bitch.

Tetsurou ends up running ten minutes behind because Kei has to break out the first-aid kit and make sure he didn't break something, and then he's scrambling to get ready, avoiding the bed at all costs.

Meanwhile, Kei plops himself down on their couch and listens to Tetsurou drop nearly every bottle in their bathroom. He clicks on the television, sipping his coffee leisurely and humming because Tetsurou finally remembered to buy his preferred brand from the store.

He hears Tetsurou curse from the kitchen this time, and yeah, that...that was a mug he'd just heard.

Yeah, working from home is a blessing. He'd clean the shards up later.

Kei has more pressing issues at the moment, like the fact Tetsurou fucking clogged up the DVR again.

Defiantly, Kei erases one, but just one. If something seems amiss, then Tetsurou will come for his cooking shows and he cannot miss who goes home this week. They're three episodes away from the finale, it's a crucial time.

He changes the channel to some stereotypical romance flick just to provide background noise, and remembers what Tetsurou had said earlier.

Valentine's Day.

It's not like Kei had forgotten, how could he? It's like the holiday threw up on anything within an infinite mile radius. Pink hearts, red streamers, cute cards and flower bouquets littered every grocery store he passed. There were ads on T.V. too, not to mention the influx of romance films and the public displays of affection he'd been forced to witness on the street ever since February 1st.

Yeah, so it's Valentine's Day. What a shock.

Kei hardly hates the holiday though, and not just for the candy clearance sale the day after.

A few seconds later, Kei is broken from his thoughts by a wet, sloppy kiss hitting his cheek, and he's not proud of it, but he yelps. Tetsurou is smirking at him, and screw it, Kei's revenge meter is all out of juice for now. He leans forward, catching Tetsurou's lips greedily.

He can feel the wetness on his cheek still, and he wipes it off, making Tetsurou laugh against his mouth. Asshole.

But Kei's smiling like an idiot.

Kei's breath still stinks too, he's almost positive, so that's payback enough.

Not like it ever matters.

Soon enough Tetsurou is wetting Kei's dry lips with his tongue, and the innocent kiss develops the potential to get too steamy too fast.

The last thing they need is Tetsurou's office knowing his husband gave him a boner first thing in the morning.

Or maybe they do.

Fuck 'em.

Kei clumsily sets his coffee down on the table, knowing a few drops sloshed out onto the sides but not really caring about the stickiness as he moves into Tetsurou's lap. Large, rough hands take their reserved place on his hips, rubbing circles in the exposed skin lazily. Kei moans, letting his tongue tangle with his husband's, and just because he can't help it, he tugs on his black strands, messaging Tetsurou's scalp.

From the way Tetsurou groans at the treatment, they know it's too much for a goodbye kiss. At least on a work day.

"Save it for tonight stardust," Tetsurou practically purrs, and Kei's so used to the nickname by now he overlooks it altogether. He does plan to save it for tonight actually.

"Don't be too tired when you get home then," Kei whispers, delivering one last peck to Tetsurou's lips before he climbs off of him. Tetsurou is at least twenty minutes late now.

"How dare you, since when do I get tired?" Tetsurou says, getting up to stretch lazily. It's not really a question they have to answer, not when they'd recently started knocking out before eleven. Their college selves would be ashamed.

Kei leans back, admiring shamelessly as Tetsurou fixes his tie. He's allowed okay? Fifteen years gives him permission to do mostly anything. Tetsurou's not as cut and carved as he used to be, but he's still the envy of all their neighbors, not to mention eye candy for plenty of them.

Tetsurou's the ultimate image of someone who aged well and looked happy doing so, walking out of the house in his slacks and button up like he didn't realize how admired he was. Kei's sure he does though, he just doesn't really care unless Kei's the one doing the admiring.

Yup, that's right. Kei married the neighborhood hottie, his mom would be so proud.

Tetsurou preens from the attention Kei gives him, leaning down lift Kei's chin and give it an affectionate squeeze. "Take out for dinner?"

Kei snorts. Duh. "It's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

Tetsurou grins, and already, Kei can't wait for him to come home.

Their Valentine's Day traditions have changed throughout the years, but the holiday refuses to let go of at least some of its spark. When they were in college, they'd actually gone out, fighting for reservations at nice restaurants, going to new movies, or sometimes even doing the stupidest things imaginable...

Now though, Kei's patience for the crowds and the stress was even more thin, and his expectations for a romantic night out were simpler, more private.

Basically, Valentine's Day had become one of the few nights of the year where they elected to do nothing. Nothing.

No cleaning, no cooking, no worrying about meeting up with friends or scheduling home improvements, just...nothing. They ordered food, the most unhealthy sort Kei could think of, and spent the hours together, watching shitty movies and reminiscing.

It's cheesy, he knows. But he doesn't mind that anymore either. It's so cheesy, and he loves it. He loves Tetsurou.

It's the perfect way to spend a night in his mind.

Over the years, Valentine's Day fills him less with butterflies, and more of a calm nostalgia. A comfort, a warmth.

Kind of like Tetsurou himself. Kei smiles; he knows the feeling is mutual.

That's one thing he does appreciate about getting older. The confidence in his partner, the content which comes with the smallest things. The need to pretend or hide is long gone, chipped away at throughout the years until it ceased to exist.

When he was younger, he'd always wondered if he'd ever get to point like this, how it all would feel...

He guesses this is what it's like. He finally knows the answer, grinning as he watches Tetsurou trip over his own feet as he races out the door to work.

This is fifty.

When they're twenty-four, they're not as enlightened.

"Kuroo, please stop," Kei pleads, and yes, he really does plead. As above freaking out as he usually is, this is ridiculous. His voice is a high-pitched whisper, and his shoulders are tense, looking every which way in search of a possible security guard or serial killer (anything could happen alright?) coming for them.

"Relax babe, we can do this no problem," Tetsurou shrugs him off, tying his old sports jacket around his waist and eyeing the chain link fence in front of them. At first glance, it doesn't look so tall, but Kei has his doubts.

In the distance, he can hear the crowd cheering as the opening act of a concert takes to the stage. He really does like this band...maybe--oh my god no!

Kei reaches forward as Tetsurou touches the fence, about to start his climb, grabbing his hands instead. This is a bad idea and they both know it. Tetsurou only blinks at him, torn between pleased and confused that they're touching, and Kei can't help it, he blushes despite his annoyance.

He keeps their hands locked together though.

"We're too old for this, you're not exactly eighteen anymore," Kei scolds, and he winces, the backpack he has on suddenly bothering him. They'd stuffed a good amount of beer in it earlier, hoping to have a romantic night at the concert.

Problem is, they're broke bitches, so actually buying tickets to said concert wasn't a possibility. Tetsurou had been so confident about finding a way in though, Kei had simply rolled with it.

How dumb of an idea could Tetsurou possibly conjure up?

That's what he'd thought. To this day, Kei doesn't know why he keeps testing fate.

Maybe it's because with Tetsurou, he doesn't need much convincing that things will work out. And really, they always have, just not always in the way he anticipates.

Tetsurou grins at him, kissing Kei's knuckles softly as he laughs. "Psh, you make it sound like I've got liver spots already, it's just a fence. We'll be over it no time..."

Tetsurou's voice climbs in pitch, playfully egging Kei on as he scoots closer, but Kei sees through it, and won't let the control slip so easily from his grasp.

Kei huffs, dodging Tetsurou's kiss to his lips. It takes more willpower than he'd like to admit. "Okay, what about this: I'm not eighteen anymore. Are you trying to kill me?"

He's not joking either. Kei wouldn't call himself a complete klutz, but he's not exactly Mr. Elegance. He can't even stand on one foot for too long, and his boyfriend wants him to hop a fucking fence?

If they get caught sneaking in with a crap ton of beer (assuming they make it over the fence without eating shit), they're dead, and Kei would rather not make that call to his parents to bail him out.

Tetsurou just laughs, the sound sudden and downright hideous, but Kei loves it anyways. "Stardust, you look as young and beautiful as the day I first saw you..."

"We're going to end up in the ER again," Kei deadpans, refusing to let the nickname get to him. It causes him to blush up to his ears, and even in the dark, he's sure Tetsurou can tell, but it's fine.

Compliments will get him nowhere.

Tetsurou slumps against Kei, a full body pout, and Kei can't help but laugh, pushing him in vain. Damn, Tetsurou is heavy.

"Hey stop--ah! Stop!" Kei pleads, his voice a whisper in between broken giggles. His legs are giving, and screw it, he just lets Tetsurou fall on top of him. Grass stains be damned, he is not losing this battle.

They end up wrestling for a bit, the grass soft and inviting, before Tetsurou pins him there, always better when it comes to contests of brute strength.

I'll get him back later. Kei never fails to.

Kei's laughter comes in short, fading bursts, his lungs fighting to catch up. Tetsurou's hands frame his face, and looking up, he can see the night sky is serving as the raven's own personal backdrop.

There's a lot of stars out, he notices, and for a moment, he wonders if it's really fair that Tetsurou gives Kei all the celestial nicknames. They seem far better suited to him, especially when those golden eyes are shining as bright as the stars above, focused solely on Kei.

Kei's own, personal galaxy, wrapped up in one person.

Ugh, listen to yourself. Shut up.

Tetsurou's rubbing off on him, and he's not a fan.

Rather than stew in his embarrassment, he meets Tetsurou's lips halfway, and the raven pauses just briefly, as if asking permission. It's almost a tease too, with how Tetsurou's breath tickles Kei's face from how close they are, the hesitation too considerate and too maddening all at once.

Kei grants the wish, and the kiss sends sparks through him, all the way down to his toes as he melts against his boyfriend.

It's short, because they're out in the open and Tetsurou knows how Kei is about their privacy, but that doesn't stop him from quickly rubbing their noses together before he finally pulls back.

Dork.

Tetsurou sighs, staring down at Kei fondly, and the blond thinks maybe now they can just skip all this and go home. After all, it's Valentines' Day, and the concert is probably on T.V. anyhow.

However, when has Tetsurou ever conceded so easily?

"Well, thanks for that, now I feel like I could climb two fences," Tetsurou says triumphantly, and Kei's smile instantly falls as his boyfriend smirks. "Maybe even a whole mountain."

"I'm leaving you." Kei gets up, but he doesn't go anywhere. He's all bark and no bite, sadly.

"Yes yes," Tetsurou says, because goddammit, he knows Kei's ass isn't going anywhere either, and turns back to eye the fence. "Now, back to business."

"Why are you like this?"

"I just like proving you wrong baby," Tetsurou says, putting one of his feet into an opening in the fence. Oh my god you're serious aren't you? Fucking...

"I highly doubt I'll be proved wrong," Kei says, already taking his phone out in case he needs to call someone. That, and part of him really does worry about his boyfriend's safety, and he'd rather not actively watch the climb. On the off chance Tetsurou actually gets over the fence, Kei notes, the raven will never let him forget it, so it's a losing situation all around for him.

Tetsurou turns to him, his hands and feet now locked into his starting position, and gives him one last dazzling grin. "Watch and learn."

And oh, Kei learns.

He learns that damn, he should be a motherfucking psychic with how good he predicted this shit.

They end up in the ER about half an hour later, but Kei's not really as concerned as he'd feared. In fact, he's starting to get bored. He knows it's bad, but the 'hehe I was right' potential behind this whole night has him giddy, and he can only hope he and Tetsurou stay together for the rest of their lives, just so he always has a chance to bring it up.

They hadn't gotten caught by anyone, but Tetsurou had lost his footing on the fence halfway to the top, and ended up with a deep gash on his thigh. After the initial freakout of driving them to the hospital and signing Tetsurou in, only to find the injury was an easy fix, he calmed down.

Three hours of waiting room scrabble and twelve stitches later, Tetsurou is signing out at the front desk about ten feet from him. Kei sits in the overly stiff waiting room chairs, ready to get up and help his boyfriend limp to the car. No excessive activity for a week and a half. Those are the doctor's orders, and Kei plans to enforce them, strictly.

This night has been a stressful one, but at least it was winding down.

Now, Kei only wants to go home and relax, maybe curl up with Tetsurou and watch the missed concert on pay-per-view and nurse his boyfriend's hurt ego.

The night is still young.

Plus, he can see the slight guilt in Tetsurou's eyes, the damn romantic. As if this could possibly ruin Valentine's Day. Hell, this is the best Valentine's Day Kei has had so far.

And the holiday would only get better, if the both of them were involved, no matter how stupid the shenanigans.

Tetsurou smiles sheepishly at him as he turns from the desk, and Kei shakes his head fondly, standing to allow Tetsurou to use him as his own personal crutch.

As heavy as Tetsurou is, Kei doesn't mind the weight.

Tetsurou groans a little from the pain as they walk through the parking lot, and when there's no one in sight, Kei allows himself to reach up and kiss the corner of Tetsurou's mouth.

"You know, maybe next year, we should stay home and order takeout," Kei suggests, his smile smug, and Tetsurou kisses it right off.

The raven sighs, but looks about as happy as Kei feels, despite the stitches in his leg. "You know what stardust, you might just be onto something."

Kei smiles at the memory, sipping wine from the mug Tetsurou bought him for his 50th birthday (because he's classy like that, and who needs wine glasses?).

He has his feet in Tetsurou's lap, and he's eating directly from the box of fried rice they ordered, because Tetsurou prefers pan fried noodles anyways, so they just order their own sides.

Kei is laughing so hard he fears he might choke, and with a pout, Tetsurou throws a spring roll at him.

"Hey! If you get crumbs on the couch, you're cleaning it," Kei protests, eating the spring roll because fuck no you're not getting it back now.

"You tell this story every year," Tetsurou groans, but he's laughing just as hard. "When will you give it a rest?"

"When it stops being funny, which will be never," Kei says with a shrug, because it is the most obvious thing in the world at this point. He likes to call that ER episode the most memorable Valentine's Day they've ever had, but he'd rather not have a repeat.

No, he'd been right all those years ago.

Sitting here in pajamas and fighting over what movie to watch, eating foods that'll go straight to his thighs...

This is his kind of Valentine's Day.

Doesn't mean he can't remember their younger ones fondly though, as stupid as they were.

And judging from the way Tetsurou is looking at him, like their back lying in the grass all over again, Kei knows he feels exactly the same.

"Guess I'll have to endure then," the raven says, pulling Kei into his arms, and he doesn't sound the least bit upset about it. "Happy Valentine's Day."

And yeah, Kei thinks, it most definitely is.

#kurotsuki #hqvalentineexchange #adri writing #haikyuu!!

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lady-proudmoore · 7 years ago

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ALL shipping questions for dragon dad (≧ω≦)

Lol anon I respect this tbh.

Meme: Shippy Questions (accepting for all but Kalec lol)

1- Who is the most affectionate? Ooo, goodness it’s close. Kalec, just barely. And the only reason for this is bc Jaina’s moods still get to her and she will go through bouts of pushing away affection. These episodes don’t last too long, but they happen.2-Big spoon/Little spoon? - Jaina is always the little spoon :33-Most common argument? - Jaina’s healing progress. She’s not healing fast enough for Kalec. As a dragon, an exceptionally wise being with higher level conciousness - Kalec fails to understand/relate to how humans feel, experience and work through trauma. Kalec loses patience with Jaina, Jaina loses patience with Kalec. It isn’t either of their faults - but it’s a complication in the relationship.4-Favorite non-sexual activity? - For Kalec, it’s learning more about the “amusing traits” of humans, which he learns through Jaina. Jaina shares her human world with him and he soaks up this knowledge and experience like a sponge. For Jaina - she loves their intellectual discussions on magic and magical theory. Kalec is a well of ancient knowledge on the subject. She also enjoys learning about dragon culture as well.5-Who is most likely to carry the other? - Kalec. He’s playful and this may happen from time to time.6-What is their favorite feature of their partner’s? - Kalec loves Jaina’s eyes. He could stare into them for hours, even if they’re often sad. Jaina loves his dragon form. It isn’t sexual for her - she’s not sexually attracted to this form, it’s just that it’s so fascinating to her that a creature that looks on the outside so predatory could be so wise and gentle. The magic of the dragons - all the dragon flights - is something she holds a lot of respect for. And the sapphire blue hues of Kalec’s dragon form is beautiful to her. He’s just a beautiful creature through and through.7-What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other? For both of them it would be intimacy. Not just physical intimacy but emotional as well. They begin to get *closer* to one another in all ways. They hold hands, walk close together bumping into each other they’re so close. They share personal feelings and stories. They allow themselves to become vulnerable with one another. They begin to build intimate trust.8-Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate? No nicknames.9-Who worries the most? Jaina. She still suffers from a lot of anxiety and fear based emotional problems.10-Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant? Kalec. As observant as Jaina can be, there are some things about her loved ones that her brain just doesn’t feel is important enough to retain to memory lol. Kalec’s dragon brain however….remembers all about his love Jaina. :311-Who tops? They switch pretty equally. Both enjoy this position. This pairing is very ‘balanced’ in many ways.12-Who initiates kisses? Oh please, both equally. :313-Who reaches for the other’s hand first? - Kalec. This is another area where Kalec leads bc of Jaina’s tendency to push away affection when her moods are sour.14-Who kisses the hardest? - Jaina. She can be very passionate. Kalec is as well, but he tends to hold back bc he’s afraid he may hurt her. I headcanon that even in his human form, as a dragon Kalec is very physically powerful.15-Who wakes up first? Jaina, actually. She’s always been a morning person, and sometimes she simply cannot sleep due to nightmares and may already have been up through the night. Kalec can be a bit harder to get out of bed if he’s with Jaina or at Jaina’s. He enjoys the feeling of being there in her bed and especially with her in the bed with him.16-Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer? Kalec, see above lol. Jaina is very prone to this as well if she’s feeling intimate and/or generally affectionate. Both of them are prone to pulling the other back to bed should one try to leave before the other is ready for them to.17-Who says I love you first? Kalec. Since Theramore Jaina is now even more guarded in her emotional vulnerability.18-Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?) Kalec is more prone to doing so that Jaina, but both these dorks would do this. Jaina’s note would say “I Love You.” Kalec would flip back and forth between “I Love You”, “Have a Great Day!” or both “I Love You & I Hope You Have a Great Day!” 19-Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first? Kalec. Jaina tends to be very private about her love life since Arthas, and she doesn’t communicate with her mother anymore. Kalec may mention it to the dragons or others would find out and confront him about and he’d be open about it. I don’t think it’s something he’d hide whereas I feel like Jaina is more inclined to do so.20-What do their family/friends think of their relationship? Jaina doesn’t tell her mother, but if she did, I think Katherine would be…..less than pleased. But she hasn’t been fond of her daughter’s decision making skills in quite some time. Kalec’s dragonflight would also probably not be pleased. But more than anything I think they would consider him more odd than they already do.21-Who is more likely to start dancing with the other? Kalec with Jaina. But once he’s got her dancing, she typically gets into it pretty quick as she’s always enjoyed dancing with her lover.22-Who cooks more/who is better at cooking? Kalec. Jaina doesn’t cook but she’s amazing at ordering take-out :D23-Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines? Kalec but he’s such a dork about it that it just makes her laugh rather than annoy her. But he’s funny bc he hears things like this and takes it as a serious thing. He tosses her a cheesy line thinking it’s going to seduce her and she laughs and he’s like “What.....is this not the proper courtship ritual??” like legit confused why it’s not working lol24-Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times? Jaina but she’s more careful about it with Kalec than she would be with other ship partners bc she knows that Kalec is so new to human culture that he could take this from Jaina as being ‘normal’ and say inappropriate things at inappropriate times within earshot of others lol.25-Who needs more assurance? Jaina. She’s been a bit insecure ever since Arthas, but even more-so after Theramore. It’s still Arthas, plus overall trauma/emotional problems that does it. 26-What would be their theme song? So many. I like “My Love” by Blackmill27-Who would sing to their child back to sleep? Either would do this :)28-What do they do when they’re away from each other? They aren’t clingy, despite their affection for one another. When they’re apart they focus on their tasks, although they would think of each other and miss them.29-one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart. They break up after Jaina leaves Dalaran. It is a mutual decision. Jaina has often felt a bit insecure under the shadow of Kalec’s judgments on her emotional healing progress, and she feels like it’s inevitible as she knows her pain and anger has become worse after the incidents on the Broken Shore. Kalec doesn’t understand why Jaina “holds onto her pain” and he doesn’t like to see her suffer. For him, working through and healing trauma like this isn’t as difficult. It’s hard for him to understand how someone like Jaina could struggle with it so. To him, she must want to hang on to it, which isn’t the case - but again, hard to explain. Neither want to break up. They love each other. But sometimes that isn’t enough. “It’s complicated.” lol30-one headcanon about this OTP that mends it. After spending time apart, Jaina does heal enough to a point where she can love and be loved again. They get back together, it still has some complications (as a relationship like this would) but overall it’s extremely loving and heart centered. Jaina knows love again and she isn’t insecure in it - she’s at peace. They’re together until Jaina’s much shorter lifetime is over. She never leaves Kalec’s heart and he uses what knowledge/wisdom he gained from his experiences with her to better dragon/human relations (or what’s left of it as the dragons are dying out). Standard “happily ever after” story as much as it could be in a situation like this

#💕 Never Temper Your Passion 💕 (Fluffy February)#Jaina x kalec #jaina x kalecgos #woooo that was a lot anon but ty lol <3

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