#so yeah and the novels so far have been great in adding onto that
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lastavenged · 6 months ago
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KAREN + ADDICITION + SOBRIETY
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I am probably gonna rewrite this post and go more specific with details for both 616 & mcu verses, but in general for both settings and Karens, and kind of wanna grab some panels and quotes from Karen about this topic.
Since one of things to kind of note first, is the like the wikis, the comics, and the show (and the show I even think s1 and s2 they didn't even plan or intend to cover her addiction which maybe wasn't necessary but has the effect of being like the comics) all act as though and treat this as something she was "cured" of which to be clear, is not a thing. There is no cure, there is recovering and battling and it's always something that she'd have been, and something that yes she could be sober and clean for years without any issue but that doesn't essentially equate to cured and.... that's a nuance that isn't really covered with Karen.
Anyways, as this stands experiences during the pit of her addiction include. Being suicidal, especially so in the comics, where she contemplates an attempt and walking out of a high story window. And it is something that she really felt amd said thar she lost her soul, sold it is specifically her words in the comics as she does sell daredevils identity for one fix. Karen's experienced homelessness as well doing the pit of addiction problems, this is another thing shown in the comics. Physical assault and implied sa as well. There's a lot of experiences from this time of her life that stick with her.
Now onto more the point of this post, and in the comics they do show, at least to some extent, her detoxing and becoming clean and sober. It's an uphill battle for her, and in general you can assume for her portrayal. That she does attend meetings some evenings, and we do at least in comics and in both novels, that her own addiction and associated demons, specifically lead her to wanting to be an advocate as well as specifically focus on helping people who are struggling with addiction themselves as well as those struggling with suicidal thoughts.
Now here is my own gripe with the show, is that none of this gets presented as part of Karen's character, until season 3 which kind of shoots karen a little in the foot, and it does kind of act as a bottle episode and gloss over that drinking was a larger issue for this karen; and kind of treats her addiction as cured, that's it.
Anyways, that is going go be more apparent here, as one of things she does is still attend meetings, she does work with support groups and volunteer opportunities, such as specifically like in the comics she opens a drug and suicide hotline that's paried with matt's free legal advice clinics.
In general, Karen is clean and mostly sober; as heroin was her specific fix. she only takes very specific medications and painkillers, if she were hospitalized she specifically requests not to be given morphine, and as for drinking, she keeps a social only two glass moderation with herself, so she can be tipsy and giggly, but mostly still has her wits, will remember the evening, and won't be hungover the next day. She additionally smoked cigarettes, nicotine, which in the comics there is an implied point in which she quits smoking as well, but picks it back up again (trial of karen in the comics; matt makes a note of that when he sees her again). It's to be noted that she does not originally quit cigarettes when first going sober/clean.
So all of that is being brought to both 616 and mcu, specifically bringing into mcu, is all of that. Specifically what sobriety/being clean looks like for Karen, and how it is quite important for her to help others of similar struggles to her own, and in general, relapse is a much trickier idea for how that applies to Karen given all of what factors into her "vices" for both 616 and mcu; I do not see a total relapse or relapse with specific drugs happening for her, but picking up smoking cigarettes again may be something that has evidently happened at least in 616, and maybe possibly mcu with smoking; since my mcu karen is in line of 616 on that, and mcu with drinking.
But in general, the point and idea, is that one of Karen's pillars is aa meetings or various support groups that she attends for herself, as well as working toward helping those of similar struggles and being an advocate on that, and having generally a sharper and kinder understanding on that. Being some volunteer work here and there and speaking out about these kinds of problems, more than what is present in the mcu and such considering that is a focus on her karen in 616 post born again (now some of that is somewhat dated in its treatment given the 80s war on drugs and porn; but you get the idea).
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tiger-moran · 7 months ago
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The Conan Doyle Estate are back with their bullshit I see
"In recent years, only one other author, Anthony Horowitz, has been allowed to write a new authorised novel"
"authorised" means absolutely nothing except the Conan Doyle Estate want to tack their name onto someone else's work to try to profit from it
"Revealed: the next Sherlock Holmes author, with a twist in the tale The thriller writer Gareth Rubin focuses on Professor Moriarty, the great detective’s nemesis, in a new adventure approved by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s family"
How's focusing on Moriarty a twist, even their own 'officially authorised' author Horowitz already did that. And Kurland did that well before Horowitz did.
And I've never even heard of Gareth Rubin, is that name meant to impress me or something? At least I'd actually heard of Horowitz before.
"The family have endorsed Rubin’s book, Holmes and Moriarty, as a worthy successor."
LMAO, "family". Yeah right
"I also wanted to offer something that you don’t find in the Holmes canon. It took a lot of shut-away pondering to create a storyline in which Holmes and Professor Moriarty – a character who, incredibly, appears in person in only a single story – are forced to work together on a case."
So what the nonsense about the 'twist' actually means is this is something that doesn't happen in the canon which they're now trying to make out is new and radical solely because they're trying to claim it's now canonical even though in reality it's absolutely nothing to do with the canon and is just yet another pastiche. Meanwhile there are multiple other non-canonical things which have Holmes and Moriarty working together already, this is fundamentally no different to any of those.
“Gareth has drawn these characters very well, including Colonel Moran, who is key to this story,” added Pooley. “Moran was once described by Holmes as ‘the second most dangerous man in London’, and he tells half of this new mystery. As Moriarty’s right-hand man, he only crops up in a couple of original Holmes stories, I believe.”
'I believe'. They're supposed to be these expert keepers of the canon, Arthur Conan Doyle's family who are doing it for the love of him and for the stories and all that shite and yet they don't even bother to check how many stories a character appears in when doing the publicity for the new book. So yeah forgive me for being REALLY cynical about how well Moran is portrayed in this.
"“Gareth has really developed the personas and is so good at dialogue,” said Pooley, who suspects that Moran, “a young guy”, could now spawn his own series."
Why is Moran "a young guy" in this, I do not trust the reasons for this. I should be so excited about a possible series about Moran but again, given who is saying this I am so not excited at all. If you're going to make him some sort of young ~sexy~ (but heterosexual of course) action hero or something I don't want that.
"Also significant in the Holmes mythology, of course, are Sherlock’s reclusive brother Mycroft and the villainous Irene Adler"
Irene! Adler! Is! Not! A! Villain!
“We’re already talking to people who want to take Irene on to develop a television series"
I would not trust you as far as I could throw you with Adler
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fatfables · 8 months ago
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A sample from my weight gain novel: Camp Shawn
You can read the whole story so far at fatfables.com
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5.
JIm woke them up the next morning at precisely eight am. Shawn was about to get dressed when Jim told him not to bother.
“It’s the weigh in dude. Just come in your boxers.”
All of the boys were gathered again in the dinner hall. All eighty five of them. The dinner tables had been removed and they all sat in lines on the benches waiting to be weighed and measured. Shawn was last as the weigh-in was done in age order. His new friends were sat next to him. They watched as the younger boys were weighed and measured one by one.
Shawn had never seen so much fat in his life. Every boy was just in his briefs or boxers, layers of fat spilling out in every direction. Boys as round as beach balls waddled up to the scales, some had mounds of back fat piled up in rolls, some were short and dumpy, others tall with low hanging breasts. Several had clearly visible stretch marks on either their bellies or thighs, or both. One boy had marks on his upper arms. Their weight would be read out loud:
“Tom Stanton 265lbs,” “William Mitchell 310lbs,” “John Jones 240lbs.” There was only one boy who weighed less than Shawn, “Tony Holmes 225lbs,” and he was clearly the youngest there.
When it was finally Shawns turn he walked nervously up to the scales. When they read out his name, he felt kind of ashamed, “Shawn Stringer 230lbs.”
The camp leader, a rotund forty five year old called Gary, placed a tape measure around Shawn’s belly, taking his waist measurement at belly button height. 
“Forty two inches.” 
He then measured his chest, thighs, and arms. Shawn looked down at his feet. 
“Don’t worry son,” Gary was speaking in a calm relaxed tone, “We’ll have you in great shape by the time you leave here.”
Gary smiled at Shawn and gave him a friendly pat on the back. Shawn watched his, now seemingly small, belly jiggle due to the movement.
“Thank you,” he mumbled under his breath.
“David Dolittle!”
Shawn turned around in surprise. He wasn’t expecting any more names to be called. He had waited for over an hour to be weighed and had always been the last in line. 
“David Dolittle!” yelled Gary, even louder.
David stepped slowly into the dinner hall. He was a giant. Shawn had never seen anyone like it. Not in real life anyway. David was as wide as he was tall. He lumbered slowly forward.
“I’m… coming… sir.” He was already out of breath.
Shawn stepped aside to let the monstrous teenager pass. David slowly stepped up onto the scale, his white briefs invisible from the front due to the mounds of fat that hung down limp over them from every angle. Shawn watched from behind, staring at the largest ass he’d ever seen, cellulite seemingly aching to break free from the confines of the underwear.
“David Dolittle, 475lbs.”
Shawn gasped in shock. David’s neck fat started to roll like waves out at sea as he slowly turned his head in order to give Shawn the devil eyes. Camp leader Gary had asked Jim to bring him the extender to the tape measure. Jim attached the two pieces together and the pair of them held it around David’s elephantine stomach.
“Eighty seven inches, congratulations David, you’re much bigger than when you left us last year.”
“Of course I fucking am” was the only response.
That was until he slowly turned once more and looked at Shawn with a glare of total contempt. 
“And what the fuck does this skinny little dickhead think he’s looking at? … He can fuck right off! The skinny little runt!”
6.
“Who the hell was that at the weigh in?” Shawn asked. 
The four boys were back in their cabin. 
“I thought we were the oldest here?”
“That…” said Axel “...was David Dolittle. He’s the spoiled rich kid. Nobody likes him. He’s got his own private accommodation that Daddy pays for.”
“And his own private chef,” chipped in Henry.
“Yeah, he’s only so fat cos he’s so rich,” added Steve.
“I’m pretty sure that he’s eighteen. I think his birthday is around Christmas” said Axel.
“Well, I fucking hate him. He was rude as fuck to me for no reason. Called me a skinny little runt!”
“That sounds like him,” said Steve, “He’s a total douchebag.” 
“There’s one way to get him back,” said Axel. 
“Yeah, what’s that?” Shawn really wanted to get David back. 
“Well to gain weight of course!” all the boys except Shawn laughed. 
“But, I’m not sure that I want to gain weight. I didn’t even know that was what this camp was for!” 
“But, I bet when you first came here, when you thought it was a weight loss camp, I bet you hated it then, didn’t you?” said Steve insightfully.
“Yeah, well that’s true. I was well pissed off with my parents.”
“I bet you were!” said Henry.
“So if you didn’t want to lose weight then you don’t mind being fat?” said Axel.
“Well, I guess not.” Shawn knew when was being peer pressured.
“So you may as well gain weight!” Axel and the twins laughed again.
“Well I did feel kind of like the odd one out at the weigh in, you know, everyone else was so much bigger than me, I do wanna fit in here.”
“Of course you do!” exclaimed Axel. “We want you to fit in too. You’re a cool guy. You just need a bit more puddin’ on ya!”
“What you need is to find the motivation,” said Steve.
“Yeah, the motivation!” Henry copied his brother like a facsimile.
“Why do you guys wanna be fat?” asked Shawn.
“Because it tastes so sweet!” said Steve, almost salivating.
“Because my brother is!” said Henry with a smile.
“For private reasons,” said Axel with a wink. “But you need to find your own motivation. Motivation is a personal thing.”
Shawn lay on his bed kneading at his soft stomach. The other boys had taken to eating their snacks while he thought. He thought about his Dad. He thought about his parents. How they had both nagged him constantly the last eighteen months. All he wanted to do was chill out, play games, eat some snacks and be left alone. But they never left him alone. They were always on at him about his school work, and his future, and what he wanted to be. Why wouldn’t they just leave him alone? All I want to do is eat, play, and watch porn. I’m only seventeen! Just leave me be!
“You’re a lazy piece of shit” his Dad had said.
“Get out of that damn room, it stinks!” his Mom had said.
“Come and eat dinner with us! You can’t have take-out again!”
“You’re getting chubby”
“And lazy!”
“Get off your god damn fat ass and do something for fuck’s sake!” His Dad had been really angry that day, and he hadn’t even done anything!
And now they had sent him to fat camp! When he hadn’t even done anything! And he wasn’t even that fat! Not compared to the kids here. I’m not even the fattest kid at school, he thought, Danny Dinkles and that fresher kid, James Whatever, are both way fatter than me! 
And they send me to fat camp?! Fucking cunts!!
Shawn sat up with a sudden jolt, “I’ve got it!” 
The other boys looked straight at him. 
“Revenge!” he shouted.
“My bastard parents forced me here against my will ‘cos they wanted me to lose weight. Well, think how pissed they’ll be when I come home from “weight loss” camp not just heavier but WAAYYY fucking heavier!!” 
“Perfect!” said Henry, his chubby mouth, full of candy, breaking into a smile.
“I think that’ll work just fine,” said Steve, rubbing his distended belly.
His belly’s going to swell so fucking beautifully, thought Axel, as he smiled and stared into Shawn’s eyes, his right hand moving discreetly in his pocket.
Continue reading at fatfables.com
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deadpoetsmuses · 4 years ago
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"inspiration". | neil perry, dps.
in which a summer is spent with the poets, with a significant feature of neil perry.
✧ title: "inspiration".
✧ pairing: neil perry x fem!reader.
✧ genre: fluff, with slight mentions of angst.
✧ word count: 2,733.
✧ warnings: written in headcanon format, home life mentions, the reader lives in meeks' grandma's house, knox being a simp for chris.
✦ author’s note: requested by @mybabysweetascanbe! it's kinda funky how i wrote this as a headcanon but it still ended up being my longest fic lmao. also i wrote the poem that neil made for the reader myself so i'm sorry if it's kinda cheesy 🗿 but i hope you all enjoy this one !! don't forget to take care of yourselves guys <3
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✎ The summer holidays had always been a time for the poets’ relief.
✎ Their academic year was constantly filled with difficulties for the poets, but it was harder for some when they were home for the summer.
✎ Neil felt as though he couldn’t be himself-- he loved reading and writing even more so than he did with accomplishing any of his parents’ wishes, like heading into medical school. He especially loved to act, and it was rough to keep that concealed around his dictatorial father.
✎ Todd’s older brother would be at home as well, and it was worse enough being in his shadow; but it had gotten worse with every one of his parents’ daily proclamations.
“We were quite disappointed with your grades from last semester, son,” His father reprimanded, looking down on him with stern eyes. “I just don’t understand what’s gotten into you. Your mother and I raised you quite well and you have your brother to guide you along. You know that he’s remarkably intelligent and well accomplished. Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
✎ Charlie and Knox had been just like Neil. The constant pressure that their parents put on them about becoming a banker and a lawyer was daunting; and all they wanted was to simply live as regular teenagers without concern for their future.
✎ Fortunately, Meeks’ grandmother was a woman who had a colossal and motherly love for the poets with a sizable residence in which her grandson’s friends could inhabit during their vacation.
✎ Thus, the poets resided in the Meeks household in the summer before their senior year so as to escape the stress and troubles brought to them in their own homes.
✎ Even though the summer was fleeting and their time was short, the poets found their time to be everlasting when they met the student boarder of the house.
✎ She went by the name of Y/N, which was a name that sounded just as sweet as the lady to whom it was attached.
“Hello, everybody! I’m Y/N!” The girl said, reaching out her hand to shake one of the poets’. Truth be told, it had been quite some time since any one of the boys had been in close contact with a woman; so they found themselves to be quite the martians in the situation. It took a few moments before one of the poets-- Neil Perry-- could offer his hand and shake hers. “I’m Neil! We’re friends of Meeks and his classmates from Welton.” The boy swore that he felt a spark as their fingertips touched, but he tossed the feeling aside; along with the apparition that he saw of a faint glimmer in Y/N’s eyes.
✎ The boys instantly took her in to their little group, and they all fell in love with her personality-- which was a platonic statement of course; but Neil Perry found this to be otherwise as he actually began falling into love with the new girl.
✎ He loved the way she cared for her new friends, the way she projected her personality through the clothes she wore, and all of the little smiles she gave him.
✎ With every beam and twinkle that she delivered, Y/N found herself to be falling for Neil as well.
✎ He provided a feeling for her that made the blacks of her eyes expand and butterflies to quiver inside-- which was the very same one Neil had felt when he first laid his eyes on her.
✎ She had been a fantastic addition to the band of poets, and the boys could not have had it any other way.
Despite the summer coming into fruition, the poets did not fail to meet up in their little cave every once in a while to read poetry, discuss girls, and laugh. The first meeting of that summer was simply like any other. “Guys, what do we think of Y/N?” Meeks questioned. A clamor of answers that ranged between “I think she’s great,” and “Do you think Mrs. Meeks has any more people in her house like Y/N?” echoed in the dark cave. Clearly, the boys had favored Y/N; but certainly not to the point where they’d be infatuated with her. “Yeah, I think she’s nice. She’s really pretty too,” Knox added. “Woah there Knoxious,” Charlie replied, expelling out a chortle. “I don’t think Chris would like to hear that. And besides, she looks more like she’s Neil’s type than yours.” Charlie’s words weren’t incorrect, but it was needless to say that Neil had strongly agreed with that statement.
✎ Over the summer, they would all begin to get to know each other better.
✎ The poets eventually introduced Y/N to the intricate realm of poetry, and she wholeheartedly fell in love with every line that was recited.
✎ They enjoyed every moment of their fleeting time together. Of course, there would be times where the boys would get into small fights and bickers.
✎ Pitts would always be yelling at Charlie for taking an ungodly amount of time in the shower, while Charlie would be yelling back about how Pitts always seemed to inhale the food that Mrs. Meeks provided for them before he himself could even take one bite.
✎ Cameron did his best to do some summer reading at night, but he found it quite hard as his room was beside Knox’s room, and Knox would spend hours on end talking to Chris over the phone.
“Oh, Chris. How do I love thee?” Knox sighed, lacing the telephone cords in between his fingers. “That’s the title of a poem we learned in Mr. Keating’s class. It reminds me of how lovely you are. Of course, she’s not as pretty as you are,” Knox’s giggles not only erupted through the phone; but it travelled through the walls as well, disrupting Cameron from the climax of his novel. “We get it, Knox! You’re a romantic poet! Now why don’t you go tell Chris about how you finished with a D minus in English!”
✎ While all of the little squabbles took place, they hadn’t even noticed the slight change in Neil and Y/N’s behavior.
✎ Y/N seemed to be keeping to herself more often, while Neil appeared to have possessed an undying smile on his face around the poets; particularly in the mornings when everyone gets up early except for him and Y/N.
✎ Little did they know, Y/N’s room had been vacant for the past few days since the arguments began-- which was approximately three weeks after the boys had arrived to the Meeks’ residence; and Neil seemed to be giggling in his room every night when the rest were asleep.
✎ In the duration of those three weeks, Neil had become more familiar with Y/N than any of the other poets had been.
✎ They’d walk along the nearby river every morning, discuss poetry in the late afternoons, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms at night.
“How long have you been living here?” Neil inquired, peering into Y/N’s eyes. His vision didn’t have to stretch too far as his face had only been a breath away from Y/N’s. The pair laid together under the warm covers of Neil’s bed with their legs entangled in one another’s and their hands interlocked, talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. “It’s been two years since Mrs. Meeks took me in,” She replied, gazing over Neil’s chiseled face. “In the whole time I’ve been here, I think you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me,” Y/N added, beaming up at Neil. Hearing her words, Neil slowly leaned his lips onto Y/N’s forehead, giving her an endearing kiss. She too had been the most interesting thing to happen to Neil in a long time.
✎ For each and every day that they were together, Neil wrote love poems.
✎ His poems revolved around his time with Y/N and included detail of all sorts; such as how colors appeared to be more bright and more vivid when he was with her and how lovelier the birds had sounded in the morning during their walks.
"My love,
The luminosity of the golden sun
does not compare to the radiance
of your glowing skin.
In this air full of morning dew,
the most beautiful scent in the air
is still you.
The sounds we hear of the melodious
birds are all because of your presence,
and they sing only for your beauty.
I look into your eyes and I see nature
reflected back at me; but it is much more
pleasant to perceive than if I were to do so
through my own set of eyes.
Though the morning lasts for a mere set of hours,
My fascination for you can go for as long as
this smooth river flows.
✎ Neil felt embarrassed about being so infatuated with Y/N, so he kept his poems hidden for the time being.
✎ Somehow, the boys had failed to notice Neil and Y/N’s constant disappearance.
✎ Although, they’d make little remarks from time to time that ran along the lines of “Ooh, Neil found a muse!” and “Y/N definitely likes somebody here. It’s probably me.”
✎ The last comment came from Charlie, which later earned him a smack on the head from Neil.
✎ So, Neil and Y/N did their best to keep their relationship hidden throughout the summer.
✎ The two were rather domestic in their relationship; they did all of the typical-couple activities that everyone else had done.
✎ To anyone else it would have been rather common to witness, but to them it was simply extraordinary being with one another.
It had been a scenic day at the river that morning. The beauty of the nature surrounding it had been ordinarily pleasing to Y/N; but all of its best qualities were magnified for Neil as his hand was in hers and the only thing he could smell was her fragrance. He had been quite nervous for the entire morning as he promised himself the night before that he would finally gather the courage to say those three magic words he’d been imagining to say for quite some time. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been thinking the same and had been visualizing how she would say it at that moment for the past few hours since. Just when the cascading waters began to relax and the chirping of the birds started to quiet down, the pair stopped on their trail and those three words were finally professed by Neil in a sudden manner while Y/N had spoken the same in a clear and gentle tone. They looked into each other’s eyes, recognizing the same look of love and eventually realizing what was said. As it was acknowledged, the two lovers simply smiled at each other and kept walking along; their hearts now beating on the same rhythm and their minds thinking of nothing but one another.
✎ Time to time, they would go up to the attic and listen to the music from Mrs. Meeks’ old gramophone, caressing one another as they slowly dance along to the lyrics of Ella Fitzgerald’s songs.
✎ Neil would always sneak a flower out of Mrs. Meeks’ rose garden and leave it on Y/N’s bedside table for her to wake up to.
✎ One of Y/N’s ways of communicating her love would be recommending books to Neil that she thinks is encompassed with his personality. Since then, Neil’s library had enlarged to a great extent.
✎ There would also be some occasions where one of them-- mostly Neil-- would get a little cheeky and try to express their love for the other out in the open.
“Eat up, boys! You know there’s plenty more of where that came from, so don’t be afraid to dig in!” Mrs. Meeks endorsed, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. With a jubilant ‘thank you’, everyone at the table promptly began to tuck into the mouthwatering cuisine. The boys soon found themselves distracted with the heavenly taste of Mrs. Meeks’ cooking; and Neil took this opportunity to covertly sneak his right hand onto Y/N’s thigh under the table. A scarlet blush crept its way up to Y/N’s cheek as she sent Neil a glare. Though her eyes expressed the message of “Not here!”, every other signal in her body sent the message of ‘Yes, Please’ to a very triumphant Neil.
✎ The summer inevitably came to an end and the boys were forced to return to Welton, much to their dismay.
✎ They couldn’t stand ending their summer; and they especially couldn’t stand leaving their new friend behind while the rest of them stayed together.
“Oh God, How are we supposed to leave this beautiful girl all alone in this big house?!” Charlie pleaded, theatrically dropping down to his knees and shouting out loud to the heavens. “It’s all just too emotional for us,” Pitts added as he went along with his friend’s act, his head bowing down to the ground in grief as he placed a comforting hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Just take me with her, God! Let me be with Y/N at her all-girls school!”
✎ Despite all of the inconveniences they put upon Y/N, the poets really did leave a mark on her. These boys showed her a new way of life-- she knows what ‘Carpe Diem’ means, and she knows how to seize her days because of them.
✎ Of course, Neil had a harder time coming into terms with their departure more than anyone else.
✎ Leaving the Meeks’ residence meant that he was leaving Y/N, which was something that he hadn’t prepared himself for.
“I’m not ready to leave you,” Neil confessed. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. After the individual hugs and goodbyes Y/N had given to the rest of the poets, the ill-fated time had come when she had to bid her own farewell to her lover. Neil believed that though their time was short and fleeting, it truly had been something special and something that he’ll never forget. Y/N was his first love, his first muse, his first everything; and no amount of riches could ever sum up to the prominence of that. Y/N placed her hand on Neil’s face, stroking away his tears with her thumb as she felt her eyes begin to swell up as well. “I’ll write to you every day, Neil.” Naturally, Y/N was on the brink of tears as well. She couldn’t bear to leave Neil after everything he’s shown her. It feels like she’s known him forever, yet everything felt so new and exciting with him. She loved him too much, and she knows she’ll continue to love him long after.
✎ Neil was afraid that she would forget about what they had soon after she had left, so he decided to give her all of the poems he had written about her.
✎ As her hands clasped the thick set of parchment, the tears she had been trying so hard to conceal had all poured out, staining the paper and her hands.
“Neil… these are beautiful,” She croaked. Her eyes skimmed over every title and date, realizing that there had been a poem for each and every splendid day that they had been together. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. That’s why I wrote these,” Neil corrected. “Everything I love about you is in these poems, and all of the love I have for you is written in each letter. I just don’t want you to forget about me while we’re apart.” The absurdity of Neil’s words made Y/N chuckle softly before she stepped forward and linked her hands around Neil’s neck, reducing the space between their lips. “I love you, Neil. You’re always going to be in my mind and you’ll always have my heart in the little pocket of your Welton blazer.”
✎ Y/N felt truly fortunate to have met Neil. This summer had come as quite a surprise for her-- she did not expect to fall in love so soon and with such an extraordinary person like Neil Perry. He was everything she’d ever looked for and he gave everything she deserved.
✎ Even though the bright days of the summer had ended and the early falling leaves of the autumn was yet to arrive, the change was of no concern as the only thing that mattered was what had been consistent-- and for Y/N and Neil, the thing that stood still for the two of them despite all odds was each other.
dedicated to these lovely people!! @mybabysweetascanbe @disagreeingpoets @catflowerbean @galaxyrhytm @nananostalgic @ughgclden @towriteabetterlife @neilsemeraldsweater @yourpal @willowestelle
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oingo233 · 4 years ago
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You Are Beautiful (1)
Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?
Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader
Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0
Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....
Word Count: 1.8
Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-
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****Blabbering Idiot****
Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)
As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.
The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.
But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.
Sirus POV:
"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.
"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.
"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.
"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.
"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.
"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.
Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.
Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.
"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.
"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.
Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.
Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.
"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.
Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.
"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.
Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.
Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.
"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.
"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.
"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"
"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."
"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.
"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged
"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.
"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.
"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.
All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"
They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.
Taglist <3
@enchantedblackrose
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ibis-gt · 3 years ago
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aaaand have a short drabble for a borrower cam au too bc Por Que No Los Dos. uhhh major spoilers for an agatha christie novel but it’s not mentioned by name so. there you go.
When Cam first came across the little cottage in the woods, he heaved a sigh of relief. A human this close to his home was a blessing. He wouldn’t have to travel nearly so far to restock on certain supplies anymore. Anything metal or plastic he needed would likely be inside those walls, and he might even be able to snag some extra food. He really needed something to help him bulk up a little more for the coming winter; mouse pelts only went so far in keeping a body warm.
When he got inside, it was better than he could have possibly dreamed. The occupant was clearly concerned with the aesthetic of the place. There were odd bundles of dried herbs and flowers hanging from the ceiling, overflowing pots of succulents and ferns and other pretty plants, cutesy leaf patterns painted on the walls and over doorways, little throw pillows with mushroom and forest designs on overstuffed furniture. The whole place was cozy and quaint and straight out of a picture book. And after he’d gotten a look at the pile of stuffed animals in the bedroom, he knew he was set for life. Whoever lived here adored cute little things, and what was cuter or littler than Cam himself? All he had to do was stroll right up to them and introduce himself, and it was the easy life from here on out.
Oh, sure, he’d heard the horror stories of humans getting their hands on borrowers. But he’d also heard the success stories of borrowers getting all but adopted by the humans that had discovered them, pampered and adored and given everything their heart desired. He wasn’t much for daydreaming, but he couldn’t deny that the hard work of survival wore on a body, and more than once he’d thought about trying to get himself a human. And now this wonderful opportunity had landed right in his lap.
Cam took out his hair clip and combed his fingers through his hair, trying to work out all the tangles, before giving up and clipping it back again. He examined his reflection in a shiny ceramic plant pot. Adjust the poncho, wipe a bit of dirt off his face, check for anything between his teeth - okay. All good. He was looking his best and ready to get loved on.
The cottage’s occupant was lying on his back on the couch with a book and a glass of water. He’d finished the water some time ago and was now thoroughly wrapped up in his book. It was a murder mystery, and he’d made frequent guesses out loud to himself about the killer’s identity. He made one now.
“Oh, the secretary must have done it,” he said.
“Actually, it was the doctor,” Cam said, from his position on the arm of the couch inches away from the human’s ear. “Unreliable narrator, see.”
The human shot upright with a scream. Cam smiled at him.
“Hi, how ya doin’. Look, I live in these woods, and gosh is it a tough time out there. Wolves and birds of prey and the nastiest rodents you’ll ever meet. Sure would be nice if someone took me in and saved me from this horrible life of - whoa whoa whoa oh sHIT - ”
Cam leapt off the arm of the couch as the book thwacked into the space he’d just occupied. He landed on the coffee table, momentum carrying him forward into a roll. He sat up and whipped around just in time to see the man holding the empty glass over his head. Cam tried diplomacy one last time.
“Hey, listen, no need for all this, I just - ”
The glass thunked over him, mercifully open-side down. The human scrambled off the couch and ran to the other side of the room, hiding behind an armchair. Cam stared in open-mouthed silence through his glass prison. That... had not gone according to plan.
Across the room, Luther sat with his back pressed against the armchair and tried to slow his breathing to a normal rate. That... had been a tiny man. A tiny man who spoke to him. A tiny man who spoke to him and spoiled the ending of the book. What the hell was that all about? Were there more of him? Oh god, what if there were more, living in his walls, scrabbling around and -
To his horror, Luther realized he could hear a faint tnk tnk tnk noise coming from the room behind him. Slowly, he dared to peer over the edge of the armchair.
“HEY!” Cam yelled, voice muffled through the glass as he pounded his fist against it. “This is not how this is supposed to go! Get back here and dote on me, idiot!”
Luther ducked behind the chair again. Nope. Nope nope nope. He would not be doing that any time soon.
For another solid fifteen minutes, Luther cowered from a man a tenth of his size while Cam yelled obscenities, banged on the glass, and cursed his stupid luck. He finally gave up and sat down, putting his head in his hands.
Luther waited. The silence continued for a moment. Then, he heard something that chilled him to the bone. The faint but unmistakable sound of glass sliding across a tabletop.
In an instant, he vaulted the armchair and dashed to where the book had fallen on the floor. He slammed the volume down on top of the glass, pinning it in place. Cam, who had had to use every ounce of strength he had to move the glass even a few centimeters, threw his hands up in frustration at the added weight.
“Great! Leave me here to die, why don’t you!” His voice cracked, going hoarse from all the shouting. He kicked the glass, only succeeding in hurting his foot, and sat down again in a huff.
Luther got down on his knees and peered cautiously in at the tiny man.
“H-hello?” He managed to say.
Cam glared at him and gave a sarcastic wave.
“Um, are there more of you around?” Luther darted a nervous glance around the room.
“Nope. Just me here.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.” Luther ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t think I could handle more than one of you. I mean, I can barely take care of spiders, you know?”
“I believe it,” Cam snorted. Then an idea came to him. “I could, though.”
“You could what?”
“I could take care of spiders. For you, I mean. I bet you get a lot in here, right?”
Luther grimaced. “So many! Oh god, and they’ve got all those legs, and they leave those horrible webs with all those insects in them... eugh.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to have to deal with all that. You want a professional.”
“A professional?” Luther echoed doubtfully.
“Exactly.” Cam spread his arms out wide. “You want someone who can go toe to toe with them, literally! You want someone on the spiders’ level. Well, he’s right here, and available for hire for the low low price of a place to sleep and a bite to eat.”
“Hmm.” Luther considered this. He looked critically at Cam for a moment. “I bet you don’t eat much, do you?” He mused.
“And I don’t take up too much space, either.” Cam waggled his eyebrows. “Whaddya say?”
Luther paused for a moment, then said, “Okay, sure. Just don’t spoil any more books for me and you’ve got a deal.”
Cam gave a sheepish grin. “Heh, sorry about that.” He waited for a moment. Neither man moved. “Soooo... are you going to let me out?”
Luther chewed his lip. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“...When are you going to do that?”
“Right... now.”
Another long moment passed.
“Okay, but see, you didn’t lift the gl - ”
“I’m working on it! Give me a minute!”
“Okay, okay, sorry.”
They stared at each other for another moment or two.
“Buddy. This is not how I want to spend my night. Let me out.”
“AAAaaaaokayokayokay.” Luther lifted the book and the glass and shot backwards onto the couch, curling into a ball and staring at Cam. Cam stared back at him curiously.
“You are... weirdly afraid of small things.”
Luther buried his face in his hands. “I knowww,” he moaned. “I’m sorry.”
“There, there,” Cam said. “We’ll work through it together, roomie.”
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bevioletskies · 3 years ago
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the first time (ever i saw your face)
summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.
word count: 4.9k | read on ao3
a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.
This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.
“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”
“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”
“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”
Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”
“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”
“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”
“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”
“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”
Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”
“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”
“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.
“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.
Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”
“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”
“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”
Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”
“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”
“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”
“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”
“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”
“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”
Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”
“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”
“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”
_____
The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.
Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?
“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.
“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.
“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”
“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”
Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”
“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -
“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”
Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.
Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!
“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.
“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.
Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.
“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.
_____
The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”
“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”
“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”
“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”
“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”
“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”
“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”
“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”
“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”
_____
“Excuse me, coming through.”
It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.
“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”
Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.
“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -
“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.
“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.
“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”
“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”
“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?
“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”
Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -
“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.
“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”
“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.
“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.
“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”
_____
“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”
“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”
“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”
“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”
“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”
“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”
Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”
_____
Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.
“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”
“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”
“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”
Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”
And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”
“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”
“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”
“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”
“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”
“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.
After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.
“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.
Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”
“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”
“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”
“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”
Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”
“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”
“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”
Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”
“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.
Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”
“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”
“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.
“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.
_____
“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”
Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”
“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”
“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”
“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”
“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”
“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.
Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”
“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”
“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”
Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”
_____
a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉
Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️
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fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago
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Family - Frank Adler x reader
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a/n- Hey lovely people! this is my second entry for the shameless hoes for chris challenge, so i’d like to say a very happy birthday (and belated birthday) to the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ who are hosting this challenge! thank you for sharing your kindness, talent, and shameless hoe thoughts with us through this challenge and every day, i hope you both had great days! here’s this Frank one shot as a gift! also, disclamer: i know nothing about boats. thoughts are in italics, prompt is in bold. Enjoy! <3
Summary: You move into a new town in search of a new job, and you meet a very handsome man and his cute niece. Or more accurately, their cat finds you.
Word count: ~3,550
Prompts:  Oops I caught feelings for you and I got ‘em baddd. &  “Oh god, did I say that out loud?”
Warnings: SMUT, explicit sexual content, explicit language. please do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the above!
You opened the curtains of the small window, squinting a little as the morning sun hit your sleep-deprived eyes. It was the first night you spent in your new little house by the docks, and you'd always had a bit of a hard time sleeping in new places. 
You sighed and rubbed your eyes, getting the coffee started. You had another week until you had to work, giving you enough time to get to know your new surroundings and fix your sleep schedule before you took over at the local library. The pay wasn't too high but you needed a job while you were working on your novel, and what better than being surrounded by books?
You moved here to clear your head a little, feeling a change of scenery might be what you needed to write your story. What your parents and relatives referred to as your "little passion project" was in fact something you were willing to work hard to achieve. Being a published author was your goal, not a mere daydream. 
You sipped the warm coffee from your mug, looking out of the window at the quiet neighborhood. You startled at the sight of an orange cat appearing, out of nowhere, chased by a little girl who seemed to be around ten or eleven years old. You chuckled into your mug before seeing the girl stumble and fall. You put down your mug to rush to her aid, but before you could leave your doorstep, a man was already kneeling next to her. Maybe her dad, even though he seemed a little young for that.
You turned in search of the elusive cat, and found him in some bushes, licking his paws. You got closer and realized the ginger cat only had one eye. You cooed at the cat, beckoning him over, and to your surprise he listened, coming out of the bushes. You pet him a little and he willingly purred at your touch. You smiled before hesitantly reaching to lift him and hold him in your arms. From your acquaintance with cats, you expected him to thrash, scratch, or try to escape, especially from the hands of a stranger, but to your surprise he stayed put, letting you carry it over to the little girl and her dad, who were still kneeling on the grass.
The girl's eyes lit up when she saw you come closer, the cat still in your arms. "Fred!" she yelled and the cat finally showed signs of wanting to get away from you. You put him down and waved at them, coming closer and sitting down beside them, to be at eye level.
"Hey," you said and introduced yourself. "I couldn't help but notice this little guy trying to hide in the bushes. He's your cat, right?" you asked the little girl and she nodded, embracing him further. "Well, you've got a very well-behaved cat," you smiled at her, "he didn't put up a fight when I lifted him up, which is remarkable." Then you remembered a little girl of ten might not know what remarkable means, and opened your mouth to explain. 
"Yeah, Fred is very remarkable," she spoke before you could. You closed your mouth. All the while the man just sat there, seemingly evaluating you with his piercing blue eyes. From anyone else, you'd probably find the gaze daunting or uncomfortable, but from him, it sent a pleasant warmth through your body. 
"I'm Mary," she spoke once more, reaching her hands out to you. You took it and shook it, smiling at her. 
The man finally spoke up, "I'm Frank," he said in a deep voice, "nice to meet you. When did you move in? I haven't really seen you around."
"Actually, just yesterday," you smiled warmly at him. "This neighborhood seems lovely," you added.
"It is," he smiles. His smile is soft, lighting up his rugged features with evident kindness. You dismissed his previous hostility as a bad morning.
"C'mon Mary, we gotta get you ready for school," Frank got up and Mary took his hand and got up as well, waving at you as she and Frank marched back to their house, Fred trailing behind them. 
You smiled seeing Mary skipping next to Frank, holding his hand still. They made a very pretty, wholesome family. You wondered who the mom was.
A couple of days later you woke up to a weird scratching sound. You located the source of the noise was from the door, frowning before opening it. You were met with the sight of Fred, who immediately entered and rubbed his head on your leg. 
"Feeling at home, huh?" you smiled and scratched behind his ears. "Come on, let's get you back home," you got out of the door just when Frank came into sight.
"Good morning!" you called out as he got closer. 
"Morning!" he replied, lightly making his way to you. You noticed the way his white shirt stretched over his muscles and gulped. 
"Come on bud," he said as he lifted Fred up. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "I have no idea what's gotten into him," he smiled. You noted it seemed like he was in a better mood this morning. 
"It's fine," you replied, "he's a great alarm clock," you chuckled. 
"Oh god, he woke you up?" he scoffed at Fred. "Well, if you want to there's some coffee at our place, as a sorry for this little menace," he pet Fred a little.
"I'd love too, but I should probably get dressed," you gestured at your pajamas. 
"Yeah," Frank diverted his gaze, "Fred and I can wait," he said apologetically.
"Thanks," you said. 
You were back out within a few minutes, dressed and ready for the day. You walked beside Frank, making a bit of small talk about the neighborhood.
Once you reached the house you came in with Frank to find Mary eating breakfast in the company of a woman you haven't seen before.
"Thanks for watching her, Roberta. She couldn't be late today too," Frank said to the woman, Roberta apparently, and then to Mary, "Mary, we can't go chasing after Fred every time he decides to disappear."
"He was at my house," you intervened, "just coming to visit. He seems independent, you shouldn't worry if he goes on trips every once in a while. I promise if he comes to visit again, I'll get him back to you, okay?" you smiled.
Mary was quiet for a moment, as if considering what you just said, and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. And thanks for bringing him back. You too Frank," she smiled and continued to eat her cereal. You fought the puzzled expression that was threatening to rise on your face. Why would she call her dad Frank?
"The bus will be here soon, honey," Roberta told Mary, "better hurry."
Mary jumped up, took her bag, and grabbed onto Frank's hand. 
"Be right back," he said and started walking away with Mary. 
You felt Roberta's gaze immediately on you, as if observing you. You turned to her. "So, you new here?" she asked.
"Yeah, just moved in," you replied. "I bet you know everyone far better than I do," you smiled. You didn't know her relationship with Frank and Mary, but you were too embarrassed to ask. 
Roberta seemed to have picked up on it though, because the next thing she said was "When Frank moved in here, he didn't even have Mary. I live in a house across the street. I've always been friends with Frank, but when he needed to take care of his niece, I knew he needed a serious ass-kicking so he'd do it right," she chuckled. "but I think between the two of us, Mary came out great," she smiled fondly. 
"She seems wonderful," you agreed, thankful for her silent understanding of your cluelessness about the situation. 
Frank came back inside, closing the door behind him. "Thanks again for watching her Roberta," he said, "I'm sure you two got acquainted already," he added while pouring you a cup of coffee. 
You accepted the coffee gratefully, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. Roberta was leaving to go about her day, so only you and Frank were left. You took in the house, and while it was a little messy, it radiated the happiness of a home. 
"So," Frank started, "I assume you've wondered about Mary… I'm her uncle, but her parents are gone." 
"It's okay," you hurriedly said, "Roberta explained a little, I get it."
"Of course she did," he chuckled. "Well then, tell me about yourself," he said.
And you did. You told him about your new job and your aspiration to become an author, even a bit about your family back home. He was easy to talk to, and in return told you more about Mary, that she was gifted, about life in the neighborhood. Before you noticed it, a few hours passed by. 
"Oh, look at the time! I'm so sorry, you probably have better things to do than sit here and talk to me, I can go if you want to," you rambled on before Frank reached forward and put his hand on your knee to stop you. You couldn't say you felt a jolt of electricity, because you weren't that cliché, but the warmth of his hand splayed on your knee did funny things to your stomach. 
His sincere eyes met yours when he said, "I work down at the docks, I repair boats, so I'm kinda freelancing, I can work whenever I feel like it. If you want though, you can come see the docks with me. You haven't been there yet, right?"
You shook your head, "I'd love to," you replied. 
You drove to the docks, getting out of the car and squinting your eyes at the bright late morning sun. Frank led you between a maze of boats and buildings until you reached the shed where he kept his tools. You sat down on a table and looked around, taking in your surroundings while Frank tidied up some stuff in a hurry.
"It's a cool place," you said, still roaming your eyes so you wouldn't have to meet his. Or more accurately, so you wouldn't let them linger on his arms, or shoulders, or face. You know, the normal things that you'd find insanely attractive about someone you've known for less than a week. Everything's totally under control.
"So, have you ever tried fixing a motorboat?" Frank smiled.
You raised your eyebrow at him. "I think you know the answer to that is a definite no," you chuckled. 
"Well, why don't you try it?" Frank suggested, "These aren't much use when they're sitting around here," he gestured at the tools. " if I'm here I might as well do some work. Wanna come?" 
"Sure, why not," you jumped down from the table and made your way to follow Frank through the door and back into the summer heat. He led your way to a small boat. When you got closer you could see the engine, the part that was covering it propped nearby to allow access to the mechanics of the ship. You both made your way on it and Frank crouched down and peered down at the engine.
"Okay, you wanna come see this?" he said and you came closer, crouching down next to him. He started explaining something about which part exactly is damaged, but you were too busy staring at his lips to really register what he was saying. Besides, you excused to yourself, it's not like I would've understood even if I was listening.
"So, what do you need to do to fix it?" you asked, breaking from your trance-like state and hurriedly changing the subject before he would realize you weren't paying attention. Or even more humiliating, realize what you were paying attention to.
He took a screwdriver and extended it to you. "For starters, I gotta open it up, which is the easy part so you can help," he smirked. 
You rolled your eyes but took the screwdriver from his hand, unscrewing where he showed you. You tried to focus on the job at hand, but honestly, you were kinda thinking about how much you wanted to screw him. Okay, chill the fuck out, you chastised yourself, he has a kid to worry about. And is way out of your league. 
For the next hour or so you and Frank, or mostly Frank, worked away at the engine. You actually managed to keep up with most of his explanations, despite the closeness between the two of you feeling both consuming and thrilling. The repairing the boat part was fine, and it was great to get some experience with something new, but it couldn't compare to the rush of your heartbeat every time Frank's arm brushed against you, or he'd lean into you a little, or grab your hand in his and show you how to properly do something. 
 Frank fixed one last thing and then looked up at you with a soft smile, "that's it," he said.
"I did it!" you exclaimed. "Wow, do you think I should start doing this as my job? I mean, I'm really good," you both laughed. 
"Yeah, sure," he said, "and you could fix some crankshafts and bearings," he smiled.
"Okay, yeah, we get it, I don't even know enough about boats to tell if these are actual boat parts," you laughed. 
"You wanna maybe get some lunch after all your hard work?" he gave you a lopsided grin and you accepted his invitation.
You were sitting at a small restaurant, enjoying your food, when you suddenly realized, "Hey, shouldn't you pick Mary up from school or something?" you frowned a little.
"Oh, no, Roberta wanted to have her for the night, so she's gonna take her," he said.
"So, Roberta is like a mother figure for Mary?" you asked tentatively. 
"I wouldn't say that, she's more of an aunt," Frank answered with a smile. "I guess the mother figure part is reserved for whoever I marry or something," he shrugged.
"Okay, maybe I'm prying a bit, but why don't you find someone? I mean, it doesn't seem too hard since you're so dreamy," you said, and then closed your mouth immediately. Please make the ground swallow me right now.
"Oh god, did I say that out loud?" you said and chuckled in an attempt to mask your embarrassment. "Whatever, ignore me, I'm just nosy and—"
"No, don't retract that," Frank smiled, his eyes glinting, "it's not every day you get such a compliment from a cute girl," he smiled timidly, blushing a little, but kept his eyes on you. 
"Thanks," you said, smiling. He was just being nice. You got through the rest of your lunch, ignoring the subject completely. You were glad he took it in good humor. Great, we're adults. We can move past that. 
You drove back into the neighborhood and stopped next to your houses. You got out of the car, stopping next to Frank. 
"Thanks for today," you said. "I had a great time," you continued and almost started walking away until Frank caught you by your wrist, effectively stopping you. You turned around; a questioning look on your face.
"You know I meant what I said at lunch, right?" he asked, smiling. "I'd love to take you out on an actual date sometime. You know, if you actually meant what you said at lunch," he smirked a little.
"I did," you admitted softly. "I'd love to go out sometime."
"Great," he said. "that means I can do what I wanted to do all day," he said. Before you could ask what that was, he closed the distance between you and attached his lips to yours. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck while his tongue slipped into your mouth. You explored each other's mouths eagerly, your hands tangling in the back of his hair while he pushed you against the car, hands exploring with passion.
When you pulled apart after what felt like forever but was simultaneously too short a time, you spoke. "So," you panted, "Mary's at Roberta's you say?"
"I like the way you think," he smirked and took your hand, leading you into the house with him.
Once inside, Frank led you to the bedroom. He was quick to recapture your mouth with his, his warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lifting it above your head, and tossing it aside. He stopped to marvel at you before you quickly closed the distance once more, pushing your hips against him a little before pulling off his shirt, moving to lick and suck down his chest and abs.
You reached his pants and made quick work of his belt, pulling his pants down with his boxers and freeing his already hard length. You spit in your hand before stroking him, and even watching him get hard made you wet with anticipation. You looked up at him, and maintaining eye contact you wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth with greed. You started swirling your tongue around him and he groaned, thrusting into your mouth. You nearly gagged but you continued your ministrations, starting to hollow your cheeks and suck him for all it's worth. 
He put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you away and you stood back up. "As much as I'm enjoying this," he rasped, "you gotta get in on the fun." He attached his lips to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as you moaned. He reached to take off your pants and you undid your bra, tossing it across the room as well.
"Now we're even," he breathed against your ear, his hand trailing down before pushing a finger into you, smirking at the sensation of your wetness. You clenched around his finger, holding onto his shoulders while your breathing hitched. He inserted a second finger in and continued to finger you in a slow, torturous pace until you finally had it. You left open-mouthed kisses along his neck and whispered in his ear. "Frank," you moaned at his thumb reaching your clit, "I need you."
He didn't need to be told twice, pulling his fingers out of you and swiftly tossing you on the bed, hovering above you before capturing your lips in a thorough kiss before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you, the stretch causing you to moan and grab onto his back. 
He started moving and you dug your fingers into his back, panting at the feeling of him reaching your g-spot. The feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, was tenfold more intense than what you felt before on the boat, and you bucked your hips against him at the thought. He sensed your need and picked your legs up. You wrapped them around his waist and he started going faster, the change of pace and angle quickly pushing you both over the edge. 
Later you laid in his bed, the sheets messed around you, listening to the far-off sounds of the evening from outside. You absentmindedly moved your fingers along his chest, drawing the pattern of a heart over and over again, like a schoolgirl in a notebook. He said nothing, just took your hand in his, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. 
"We should probably get some dinner," he said and you hummed in agreement. "Maybe I could take you out on that date?" he smiled.
As if on cue, your stomach grumbled and you both laughed.
"Let's go dreamboat," you sassed and got up to search for your clothes.
Some months later you celebrated Mary's birthday. You had a little party at home for her and some friends, which you helped organize. By now you were a part of Mary's life, and you couldn't be happier about it.
Frank came up to you, smiling. "I think we threw a pretty great party," he said.
"I do too. Mary seems like she's enjoying herself." You smiled at the sight of her playing with her friends.
"She is," Frank said. "And it's thanks to… me. Dreamy Frank at it again!" he said and you both burst out into laughter. 
"God, you're really never gonna let me live that down will you?"
"Well, you're cute, so maybe you still stand a chance," he winked and you both laughed. He went to help the girls with their game and Roberta came up and stood next to you. "You know," she said, "besides Mary, he never laughs with anyone like that. Certainly not an adult," she smiled and you smiled at her as well, catching Frank lifting Mary in his arms from the corner of your eye. "Well," she continued, "I guess that's how it is with family." 
That is how it was. You've never felt happier than in the moments you spent with Frank and Mary. You love them both dearly. To think you found your family when you were looking for a job! Well, life's funny like that sometimes. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 
hope you enjoyed! this was supposed to be fluffy but... oh well best of both worlds
Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal
if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3
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monstersandmaw · 4 years ago
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Ashridge Pack Ashridge Pack Ashridge Pack Ashridge Pack !!!!!!!
Awww, Anon! Here’s a long-sh, male werewolf x male human snippet for you then. It’s later in the storyline than where we left off on Patreon, but not by that much... Bear in mind it’s an unedited WIP, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.
Ashridge is a background story that I’m working on, but don’t intend to publish on here. It’ll be a self-published novel when it’s done, and my former-Patreon folks in the Discord will get to read it first and beta it for me.
___
Luke glanced to his left and watched Sol down the remainder of his glass with a grimace. “You pick a shitty one?” he asked and heard Harry’s short inhale of surprise from his left.  
Sol looked at him and for a moment his blank expression was impossible to read. Then, to his (and Harry’s) evident surprise, he cracked a smirk. “No, but I’m not downing a single malt.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a whisky snob?” Luke blurted and earned himself a sharp dig in the ribs from Harry.  
“Name me one decent blended and I’ll forgive you for that,” Sol growled, though Luke thought he could see a playful glint in the wolf’s golden eyes.  
He narrowed his own in thought and chewed on his lower lip. When he glanced up, he found Sol’s eyes locked on the point where his teeth sank into the soft flesh of his lip. The alpha did not look up until Luke stopped doing it. “I’m told Suntory Hibiki is nice, but I’ve never had it.”
If Luke had just told Sol he liked to drink silver nitrate on the weekends, the wolf couldn’t have looked more surprised. It only lasted for a moment, but it was written so clearly on his face that Luke had to laugh. Sol’s shoulder dropped just a little and he twitched his chin at the empty bar stool beside him. Without waiting to see if Luke was going to sit, he turned to the bar tender and said, “Two Hibiki 21’s, please. No ice.”  
The pounding bass of the club behind them was not enough to drown out his deep, rough voice, and neither was it enough to mask Harry’s hiss through clenched teeth. “Luke, what are you doing?”
With a poorly-concealed grin, Luke leaned in close to Harry’s ear and said, “Having a drink with the best looking werewolf I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
“You’re nuts,” Harry mouthed, wide-eyed.  
Luke just grinned, but when he turned back after Harry had slunk off, Sol’s face was back to his usual thunderhead severity. “You know he’s just anxious I’m going to put my foot in my mouth and piss off the pack’s alpha, right?”
“I’m not pack alpha,” he growled, glowering down at his hands on the bar. 
On a whim, Luke reached out and gently placed his fingers over Sol’s. He felt the wolf twitch, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he looked up at Luke, and his pupils soared wide the instant he found Luke’s face. Taking that for a good sign, Luke smiled, hopped awkwardly up onto the barstool, and said, “Harry’s a bag of nerves, and he forgets how much time I’ve actually spent with you lot. I think he still expects me to be afraid of you.”
“You’re not?”
“Of you or wolves in general?”
Sol swallowed thickly, his sharp Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat worked. He still looked like he was trying to bore twin holes in the counter top with his eyes as he looked away and mumbled, “Either.”
“Nah. I’ve seen what happens when you lot get a belly scratch. I can’t be afraid of any werewolf after that.” He instantly wondered if he’d pushed it too far with a pseudo-dog-joke, so he added, “Honestly, Harry’s the biggest dork I’ve ever seen when he wolfs out in the evenings in front of Bake-Off with me.”
Something shifted in Sol’s demeanour at that. He took a long, slow inhale and then offered Luke the slowest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen on the man. “You’re good for him,” he said quietly. If Luke hadn’t been watching his mouth — well, more accurately the coarse, black, three-day stubble around it — then he might have missed it altogether.  
“We’re not, like, boyfriends or anything,” Luke added as the guy behind the bar slid his whisky towards him. He took it but didn’t drink yet, holding it by the rim and idly swirling the amber liquid around as he watched the lights of the club reflect in its depths. “I mean, we share a flat and we’ve been best friends since I was about twelve, but I’m pretty sure he’s ace…” He coughed and added, “Besides, he’s not really my type.”
“Because he’s a guy?”
“Because he’s a twink,” Luke snorted and chinked his glass against Sol’s where it still sat on the bar. “I don’t tend to go for guys who are already built like me on the whole. It has been known to happen, but I’m more into…” he looked pointedly over at Sol and raked him up and down with his eyes, and then grinned.  
Sol’s thick eyebrows rose slowly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sol nudged his glass against Luke’s and sipped it without speaking, so Luke followed suit. “Mmm,” he hummed as the spicy liquor rolled over his tongue. “I was right.”
“You were,” Sol smirked, still not quite looking at him. The way he leaned against the bar showed his biceps off to incredible advantage though in the tight, wine-red Henley and it made Luke’s mouth go dry if he looked at him too long.  
“You dance?” Luke asked, shooting a glance over his right shoulder at the floor behind him where Max and Laura were quietly grinding against one another and Harry, Onita, and a number of others Luke didn’t really know were laughing and dancing together, heads thrown back, lost to the beat.  
“Not on the whole,” Sol snorted. “I’m not great at it.”
“Who is?” Luke laughed, taking another sip. He only had a few more mouthfuls before it would be all gone.  
“Fair enough.” Sol surprised him then by tipping his glass back and sliding off the stool.  
“Thought you didn’t down nice whiskies?”
“I said I didn’t down single malts,” he said with his eyes flashing alpha red for a moment. “That was still a blended, even if it was a good one. Dance?”
Luke knocked his back and took the hand that Sol extended. His palm was warm and rough, like he spent his spare time in a workshop, and let Sol lead him out onto the floor, winding between people.  
Luke had to duck beneath someone’s arm as they flailed, and Sol tugged him close to avoid it. Laughing, Luke let himself fall against Sol’s solid chest and he spread his fingers appreciatively over the hard plane of muscle. Sol’s breath caught visibly and his eyes flashed again. A moment later, his hands found their way hesitantly to Luke’s hips and he raised one eyebrow.  
In answer, Luke grinned up at him and suggestively swayed his hips in a figure of eight that had Sol literally growling. Delighted, Luke threw back his head and laughed, moving more to the music. For a while, they moved like that, with Sol’s hands on his hips and Luke just moving, but before too long, Sol turned him so that his back was to Sol’s chest and he drew in a short inhale as Sol moved up behind him and nuzzled briefly at his ear and began to kiss down his neck, all the while keeping his hands on Luke’s hips.
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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years ago
Text
HDJXKDKFF I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I NEEDED THIS PLEASE FORGIVE ME THIS WAS SO TIME CONSUMING AND FOR WHAT>> TO SATISFY MY DYSPHORIA/fA<>>A???
synapsis ; Satan and MC often discuss the plot lines of their favorite books, but this time, it’s a little bittersweet
✖️MALE MC✖️ comfort, kinda sad, fluff?
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MC could practically feel the past few sleepless nights tugging at his limbs. He yawned into his hand. “I probably shouldn’t have pulled an all nighter last night, huh?” He chuckled a little to make light of the situation.
Satan sighed helplessly, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. “I told you this would happen. You’d better watch yourself before I force you to get proper hours of sleep.” His emerald eyes never left the pages of his most recent favorite novel series.  “Lucifer isn’t as worried for your grades considering you won’t be here for as long as us.”
“That’s true...  But even still, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Luci.” MC rubbed his eyes a bit before responding.
There was only a scoff in response from the blonde, along with mutters definitely slandering his older brother.
“But never mind that.  Wanna update me on your book?” MC grabbed his own book from the table to his side and took a seat on Satan’s bed.  He has learned from experience that Satan read books far beyond his comprehension level-- far beyond the comprehension level of some of the smartest demons as well.  But the plots are interesting enough that listening to Satan relay the insights to him has become a hobby. 
“Well....  Amanthy ends up saving the prince from the monster right in the nick of time, but get this;  the two of them don’t get married.”  MC finally gets to see Satan’s eyes when he looks up in mild excitement.  They’re blazing so brightly that it nearly burns him as he watches them.  This normally happened when Satan was allowed to rant about a book.
“Amanthy calls off the marriage because he didn’t think that the prince was strong enough to be with him on his journey.  I really recommend you reading this part at the very least.  Now that you know what’s actually happening in it, you can focus on how incredibly this author deepens the understanding of Amanthy and his intents.”
Amanthy...  Would you really end it all just like that?  MC found himself wondering.  It must have been the fact that MC projected him and Satan onto the two ex-love birds in the novel.  Amanthy was clearly a sophisticated book-loving mage similarly to Satan, and the prince was a simple man in a foreign world trying to figure everything out.  Just like MC being thrown into the Devildom.  Together, the two fought and travelled together.
As childish as it is, MC was hopeful that they would end up together in the end, just because of his crush on Satan.  And hearing the news about their wedding almost felt like a personal attack.
He can’t respond immediately.  “Oh.” He breathes, “That’s surprising...  I, uh.  Did not expect that.”  A small laugh.  How was he supposed to answer?
“I feel the same.  It was not hinted at in the slightest...”  Satan held his chin between his thumb and index finger.  “But I understand Amanthy.  I mean, looking at it realistically...  The prince had his sword, and even with the little magic he had, surely he could have fought the beast instead of waiting for it to kill him...  Amanthy is a strong man, and I’m not sure how well he’d hold up being with someone like that.”
“Hmm.  Interesting...  This whole plot was just one turn after another.  You really have an eye for good books...  The beginning of that story was a bit slow.” MC tried to seem as invested as possible.  But it was proving to be much more difficult than it seemed.  Although he knew Satan can’t be held accountable for something like this...  Does he really think that Amanthy was in the right?
There was a knot forming in the very bottom of his stomach.  So then, would he do the same thing in that situation?  Would he really drop me if he had to save me like that?
“The story certainly did pick up speed...  Even I was impressed.  But it truly added to the character development!  Amanthy is a smart man for what he did, and he’s really selling it to me.  I wonder if that shopkeeper from the last chapter will reappear...”  He flipped several pages back as if to see if it was hinted at anywhere.  “She looked like a better fit for our bookworm protagonist...  Or maybe he’s better off on his own?”
MC’s mood just seemed to be going down a never ending decline.  The shopkeeper?  Who was literally everything that he wasn’t?
Satan continued before MC could comment, “The prince was always a bit of a dead weight, I can admit.  There were times that I found myself criticizing him for little things, but never fully disliked him...  Although there was much more to him than his exterior, I suppose.”
Okay, now this was a full blown call out post for MC.  The prince getting called a dead weight for the protagonist?  Suddenly, MC constantly having to be reminded by Satan to sleep seemed a little more daunting.
“So that’s how you look at it...” MC hummed and buried his face in his book, careful with his phrasing and hoping that the intuitive male in front of him couldn’t pick up on his hurt.
“Of course...  How would you see it?” Satan leaned a little closer.
This man will be the end of me, and he won’t even know it.
MC cleared his throat and shifted a little out of discomfort. “I mean...  I guess I sympathize with the prince a little.  He hasn’t really gotten the chance to protect himself...  A-And that’s the first time he’s been left with such a powerful beast, right?  Just a few weeks ago, he was in his castle watching the knights spar, and now he’s here defending himself alone.” Don’t seem suspicious, MC.  You got this.  You can do this at the very least, can’t you?  “Amanthy had a good connection with him.  I can’t believe he’d just overlook that because the prince needs help understandably.  I mean, isn’t that what a lover is for?  To love and support?”
Satan’s lips tugged into a simple smile.  “Ahh, so that’s how it is.  I’m surprised you can pay so much attention right now when you’ve barely slept.  You could barely keep your eyes open earlier.” He playfully ruffled MC’s hair.
His affectionate touch stung, and his words stabbed deep into MC’s core.  He knew no harm was meant, and yet he couldn’t help but feel horrible.  Why couldn’t he just listen to Satan’s nagging?
“But your opinion is just as strong as mine!” MC added quickly, hoping that Satan didn’t think he was disregarding him.  “Maybe calling off the wedding was the right choice in the end...  After all, the prince was kinda shady in the first few chapters right?  Maybe he’ll prove to be the bad guy.”
Satan seemed to think it over for a moment.  “ I suppose...  But the prince is a bit more respectful than that, don’t you think?”
And now he’s defending the prince?  Make up your mind already, MC silently thought.
“Y-Yeah, I guess so...” Am I as respectful as him, someone of literal royalty? MC breathed out slowly.  Even if I am, what difference does that make, Satan?
Some time passed after that, and MC couldn’t get passed a single page in his book.  His mind was a confusing jumble of thoughts.  Some of them hoped that Satan would react differently if proposed the same situation.  And some justified Amanthy’s decision in a sickening submission to his situation.  His ‘situation’ is an inevitable unrequited love for Satan.  And now he’s aware that Satan probably wouldn’t consider someone like him as a spouse even if given the chance.  Great.
“MC?  If you’re tired you should sleep.”
The (H/C) haired male jumped.  He looked up to see Satan way too close for comfort at the moment.  He felt himself flush.  “I’m not!  This story is too interesting for that.”
“You haven’t turned a single page.  And you looked a little scary.” Satan chuckled.  “Is it Lucifer?  Is that rat stressing you for your grades?”
“Well, no...  It’s just,” Phrase this properly, please. “I’m all hung up on that whole marriage situation.  If...  If you had to make that decision, would you call off the marriage too?”
Satan had a look of shock.  “Hmm...  I guess I hadn’t considered that.”  He thought for a second. “I don’t think I would.  I may have chosen Amanthy’s side, but I’m not him.”
Geez, that’s a big relief.
“But what about you?  Would you do the same?”
Okay, now that was unexpected.  MC blinked.  “I definitely wouldn’t have.  You heard my piece earlier.  I wouldn’t leave someone just because they were incapable of things like that.”
...  Was that too much information?
“Really...  Interesting.” Satan leaned back into the cushions on the seat.  “It’s almost spellbinding how similar you are to him, and yet you two have such different ideals.”
“Yeah...” MC answered subconsciously.  “And it really--...  Wait.  Come again?”
How similar I am to Amanthy?  No.  I must have heard wrong.  It just doesn’t make sense.  There’s no way that he would compare me to someone as great as-
“I must have never mentioned it, but I tend to project the people I know onto storybook characters.”  He seemed a little bashful, as he couldn’t quite make eye contact with MC.  “Amanthy is a very selfless mage that happens to have a habit of staying up for days on end to finish his studies.  He...  He reminds me of you.”  A small tinge of pink crawled onto his cheeks. “Sometimes, it also feels like you’re the protagonist of a great story, too.”
MC was flabbergasted.  This conversation is hitting him harder than the actual plot of the book being discussed.  “Th-Then, who do you see as the prince?”  This wasn’t adding up.  He couldn’t imagine who it could be if it wasn’t him.
“Me, of course.”  Satan responded without missing a single beat.  “I hate to admit it, but as the youngest brother, I tend to...  Blow things out of proportion.  And the others say it’s because I haven’t experienced the same things as them.  I don’t quite understand it...  But I guess I really don���t need to.”  He looked lost in his own mind as he explained.
He continued as MC struggled to put everything together. “The prince was told many of the same things I have heard.  But I think the reason I relate to him so largely is because I also feel little out of place, as many of his monologues describe my exact feelings so often.”
“Out of place..?  Why is that?” MC’s words left his mouth before he could consider them.  “Err, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.”
“No, It’s nice to get things like this off of my chest occasionally.”  He paused briefly. “I guess I’m just not used to someone understanding me quite like you do.  Don’t get me wrong, It’s not bad at all.  It’s just a bit...  Odd to me.  Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it.”
“Satan...  Of course you do.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have taken the time and indulged in the same things as you.” MC felt his heart throb.  Of course Satan would look into the story from a metaphorical stance rather than literal, like he did.  He was the one actually reading the pages, after all.  That’s just the type of person he is.  There’s no real beast in this story in his eyes.  The prince was just Satan stuck in his own thoughts.
“But...  Surely, this doesn’t mean that you thought I would have made the same choice as Amanthy, right?”
Satan hummed.  “You’ve got me unraveled under your fingertips, MC.  But you’d be mistaken...  I did.  But even if something like that ever happened, I don’t think I’d let you go quite as easily as the prince did.”  His smile had hints of mischief in it.  “You’re stuck with me.”
MC’s eyes widened a little.  There was so much information to take in at once.  “Well...  Rest assured, then?”
“Agreed.”  Satan nodded. “I’m just hoping you won’t get fed up with having to constantly calm me down before a wreck a building.”  He laughed, but it seemed sad, in a way.
Ahh...  So that’s just it.  Satan was insecure about something that I don’t mind helping him with a thousand times over.  MC found himself smiling.  Demons were much more similar to humans than he thought.
“That’s a bit cute, Satan.”
“What’re you on about?”
MC reached over and pat the top of his head in the way he knows he enjoys it.  “I wouldn’t let you go so easily, either.  I’m not Amanthy, and you’re not the prince.  You’re gonna have to try a little harder to get rid of me.”
Satan was frozen in the spot.  He suddenly understood what Levi’s shows would describe when they said, “time seemed to slow, and nothing else mattered other than him.”
“I don’t think I’d ever dream of it...”
For the first time ever, he felt as if he was receiving his very own happy ending in his own novel. 
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seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years ago
Text
When Lightning Strikes Ch. 19
When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.
Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 20]
Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
_______________
Hiccup first brought it up on a sunny afternoon in mid-July, one year after that fateful rainy Sunday.
It was a Friday and Astrid’s parents had invited them over for a barbecue. They were both still at work, but Astrid and Hiccup were already at the house and had prepared the food. There was a green salad waiting in the kitchen, the meat was seasoned on a covered plate in the fridge, herb bread was ready to be gratinated in the oven and drinks were cooling in the minibar.
While rifling through the closet for napkins, Astrid had found an old bag of water balloons and, unbeknownst to Hiccup, had filled them in the sink before she’d attacked him in the garden. He’d just arranged the garden furniture and wiped the table with a damp cloth when something cold and wet had exploded all over his back, followed by the hearty laugh of his girlfriend.
“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m unarmed!”
She rolled a handful of balloons over the table and he had to be careful to catch all of them before they fell to the ground and burst all over his feet. He made a show of fumbling with his ammo, catching her off-guard when he suddenly hurled one right at her. It exploded on her chest and while she was momentarily distracted, he escaped from her immediate attack zone.
In no time, they were out of ammunition, with large water stains all over their clothes. Balloon shreds were scattered all over the lawn, some had hit the house wall and there was a wet imprint of a water explosion on one of the living room windows.
But Astrid was in no way done with their water fight, despite her dripping hair and wet left butt cheek. From the garage, she produced two dusty Nerf Blasters, and the battle carried on. The chairs and table were converted into shields and hiding spots, the water faucet was a safe zone to fill up on ammo, and the hammock was off-limits.
After Hiccup accidentally shot a blast in her face, she dropped her gun and wiped at her eyes. He rushed over. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
As soon as he was right in front of her, she made a grab for his Blaster, picked up her own in lightning speed, and pointed both of them at him. “Gotcha. I win.”
“Oh, you!” He tackled her and when they stumbled a few steps backwards, he steered them right into the hammock. Swinging back and forth from the momentum, he pinned her down and started tickling her sides. She writhed underneath him, tried to kick him, but it wasn’t that easy in a hammock. Tears from laughter were gathering in her eyes until, finally, she managed to free a hand and attempted to push him out of the hammock. “Okay, okay,” he relented and rolled off of her.
A light breeze was rustling through the leaves of the apple and plum trees above. Catching their breaths, they made themselves comfortable, gazing at the bright blue sky through a sea of green. The breeze was brushing through their wet clothes, providing a nice change to the summer heat.
He moved his head to the side, watching the game of cat and mouse that sunlight and shade were playing on her face. When the hammock came to a stop, she stuck one leg out to lightly kick at the ground. “Hey,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm?”
“Do you ever want to get married again?” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back at him. “Just a general question,” he quickly added. “I’m- I’m not proposing.”
“Yeah, I know. I just…” She wrinkled her forehead, focusing back on the ceiling of leaves. “I’m not sure. I once thought getting married was the right idea and now I’m divorced.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not saying things aren’t different this time. But I don’t know if I want to go through that again.”
For a while, he was quiet, fiddling with a loose thread on her top. He understood what she meant. Maybe it had been a bit too early to ask, anyway, even as a general question. It had only been a little over a year. That didn’t mean his stomach didn’t make a traitorous drop, though.
“That’s okay.” He reached out and played with a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. “As long as I get to be with you, labels don’t matter, anyway.”
“Good.” She kissed him. “Because that’s all I need.” Then she produced a water balloon out of nowhere, probably a stray one that had rolled off earlier, and held it in a threatening way over his head. “Get merked, Hiccup!” He had just enough time to jump out of the hammock before the bomb hit and doused him. The game was back on.
Not much later, a car pulled into the driveway and soon enough, Frederick Hofferson stepped onto the patio. Astrid immediately hid behind him, using him as a human shield. Hiccup just about managed to hold back his throw. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot his girlfriend’s father with a large water gun. Especially since he felt like the man was still not quite used to him, still regarding him as the guy that ended her daughter’s marriage.
“I’m not a part of this!” Frederick shouted and ducked out of the way. While Hiccup was still mindful of the splash area of his projectiles, Astrid had no such reservations. She took her Nerf Blaster apart, dashed over and emptied the small water tank over his head. It seemed the winner was obvious this time, but he would get his revenge soon enough.
The warm weather had dried most of his clothes by the time the first steaks were ready. Frederick offered him to trade places so Hiccup could take over with the meat, but he declined. It was obvious the man was in his element. Astrid leaned over and whispered, “I think he’s trying to bond with you. He’s looking for shared interests.”
“Really?” he whispered back. “That’s great, but I’m really not interested in barbecuing techniques.”
She shrugged. “Then find something else to talk about. He’s finally making an effort. We shouldn’t let that go to waste.”
Hiccup nodded and wracked his brain for a topic to strike up a conversation with Frederick about. He’d never really been alone with the man so far, there had always been at least one other person present to save them from any awkward interactions.
He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t catch Wilma’s announcement about the party. She and her husband would soon have their 25th wedding anniversary and wanted to celebrate it with family and friends. Hiccup was naturally invited but, after a quick check with Astrid, so was Eret. After all those years he’d been considered part of the Hofferson family, and considering he and Astrid were still on such good terms, Astrid’s parents wanted him to be there with them.
Astrid sent him a sidelong glance, asking with her eyes if he was okay with that. He sent back an answer of, Do I have a choice here?
I can talk to him and ask him not to come, she offered.
He shook his head. No, that’s stupid. We’re adults. I’m okay with him coming. He’s family.
Well, she raised her brows, if you’re sure…
“…no, I don’t think she’s listening. Astrid!”
She looked up. “Sorry, what?”
Frederick chuckled. “Your mother just asked you whether you could help her carry the dishes into the kitchen.”
“Oh, sure, yeah. Of course.” She got up and started collecting the plates, sending Hiccup a conspiratorial smile before she followed her mother into the house. That left him at the table with Frederick.
For several minutes, they busied themselves with their beers and the last pieces of bread still on the table. From inside the house, voices and the clattering of dishes carried over, not quite loudly enough to provide sufficient white noise and deeming a conversation between the two men necessary to drown out the awkwardness settling over them like heavy snow.
Whatever you do, Hiccup firmly told himself, just don’t talk about the weather. Really, anything but that. Or sex. Especially with his daughter. He gulped down the rest of his beer, looking anywhere but at Frederick, infinitely glad that mind-reading wasn’t a thing.
His fingers drummed on the legs of his chair and he couldn’t sit still, shifting around, accidentally bumping his knee against the underside of the table, grimacing through the pain. He was just about to jump up and flee into the house when Frederick spoke.
“So,” he started, leaning forward a little, “I’ve always meant to ask…”
Please don’t be an embarrassing question, Hiccup mentally prayed. “Yes?”
“What exactly is it that you do at your job?” Oh, thank god. Hiccup exhaled. “Astrid mentioned it a couple times, but I never really caught it.”
“Ah, well, I illustrate uh, books?” Why had that come out as a question? “Yeah, um… Mostly covers and artwork for fantasy novels, and I’ve done some children’s books… Uh. Do you like to read?”
“The newspaper.”
“Oh. Yeah, I don’t do that. Illustrate that, I mean. I do read it, though!” Please come back, he mentally cried, hoping Astrid would pick up the brain waves. The other man just nodded and another silence engulfed the table. Hiccup continued drumming on the chair. When Astrid had met his parents, she’d immediately gotten along with them, especially with his dad. Why couldn’t he do the same with hers?
“I’m not very artistic myself,” Frederick continued in an attempt to keep the conversation going. He really was trying.
“You’re a construction engineer, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t you need a certain level of artistic ability for that, too? Designing constructions is still designing, after all.”
Frederick shrugged. “Sure, I can think up construction plans and put them neatly on paper, but I could never draw, say, a dragon. I just don’t have the imagination or patience or creativity.”
“I’d argue you are creative. Where else would you get ideas for constructions from?”
“Well, if you put it like that… Maybe you’re right.”
Hiccup felt a surge of confidence. They were having a conversation and Frederick was agreeing with him. “When I was little, I always wanted to become an engineer. I had a whole room full of Lego Technic stuff and I would spend entire days building, taking apart, and rebuilding all kinds of machines.”
Frederick raised his head in interest. “What changed your mind?”
“Nothing, actually.” He scratched his neck. “There was this engineering school I wanted to go to, but they were full the year I wanted to start. And instead of applying somewhere else, I took their offer to start the next year. In the meantime, I enrolled in a number of illustration courses and liked it so much that I stayed.”
“Do you ever regret it?”
“No, I don’t.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “I love my job. And, well… Through a chain of events it’s what’s led me here.” Frederick gave him a quizzical look. “I mean, uh, my friend and colleague Fishlegs, he… Um, long story short, he introduced me to my ex-girlfriend. And she has a brother who has this best friend and… Ah, you see, this best friend had a fiancée…”
An understanding light went on behind Frederick’s eyes. Nervously, Hiccup waited for the reaction that told him the other man wasn’t very amused by the story, taking into account that he’d probably exchange Hiccup for Eret on the spot if he could…
What he hadn’t expected was for the man to burst out laughing.
“Well, in that case, the engineering school not taking you gave me a second son-in-law.”
“Oh, ah…” Hiccup felt his face heat up at the term. He felt a ramble bubbling up in his chest, about how he’d only barely discussed that with Astrid and how she wasn’t even sure she wanted–
“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you, son.” With a chuckle, Frederick leaned back in his chair and Hiccup exhaled. “So tell me, what machines exactly did you build as a kid?”
Once he started talking about his Lego inventions from his childhood, Hiccup lost track of time. An indefinite time later, Astrid and Wilma returned to the table, finding the two men deep in conversation. Wide smile on her face, Astrid gave him a kiss on the cheek and shared a pleased look with her mother. At the end of the day, he had to promise Frederick to continue their conversation the next time they saw each other.
Maybe he wasn’t yet an Eret when it came to being an integral part of the family, but he was getting there.
_______________
On the night of the Hofferson’s anniversary party, Hiccup found himself surrounded by several of Astrid’s great-aunts, great-uncles, grandparents, and various other older folk somehow related to or friends with the family.
He’d actually just wanted to take a break from socializing and had retreated to one of the tables in the corner while the party continued on the dancefloor and at the bar. Astrid’s cousins were doing shots, but he’d just so managed to escape. Her uncle had claimed dance after dance with her. Wilma and Frederick were moving from group to group, having a drink here and a conversation there, dancing with friends and family in-between. And Eret stood with the cousins as if he was one of them.
It had been quite a tad awkward when great-aunt Phyllis had walked past the two of them earlier, cheeks red from brandy, and said with a cheeky wink: “Let’s hope she sticks with this one.” Once she had moved on, Hiccup wanted to sink into the ground and Eret was guffawing.
Now, Phyllis was sitting opposite him, another Cognac in front of her, giggling with the group about something he’d said. He’d discovered he had a knack for entertaining the older generation of his girlfriend’s family. They questioned him about every single detail of his life, his family, and their favorite topic, the story of how he and Astrid fell in love. Even after hearing it for the third time that night, they still aw-ed and ah-ed, hanging onto his every word.
“Then what happened with Eret?”
“Larry, he’s right there,” great-uncle Greg groaned and pointed at the tall man downing tequila with cousin Beth.
“But I don’t know the details, old fart!”
“Who are you calling old?! I’m younger than you.”
Grandma Rosie, 93 years of age, lifted her walking stick and threatened to whack them both over the head if they didn’t stop bickering. The men let their squabbling go and grinned as the rest of the group watched, amused, as Rosie’s façade crumbled, revealing the humor in her eyes. Eleven wrinkly faces returned their attention to Hiccup, expectant and curious, some a little wary. They hadn’t heard this part of the story yet and they had caught on to Eret’s change of lifestyle.
Hiccup hesitated. This wasn’t his story to tell anymore. And part of his audience was quite conservative, already scrunching up their noses. Then again, Eret had come here with an official male date. He wasn’t hiding anything. And to their credit, even the most conservative person in this hall had been nothing but supportive towards Astrid’s life choices so far, first a divorce not even two years into her marriage, then bringing both her current and her ex-partner to a family event.
Also her supposed choice of having kids out of wedlock, but since she was currently drinking a glass of wine on the other side of the hall, Hiccup expected that particular rumor to dissolve during the night. Not that it hadn’t given him a minor heart attack, though, when he’d first been asked about it by great-uncle Charles. Hiccup had told her that dress looked a little baggy when she was sitting down, no matter how gorgeous she looked.
“Well,” he started, searching for the right words, “Eret’s date went great. But after a few weeks with Tim, the spark faded.”
“And then he was with that girl from the bakery, right?” Susan, one of the Hofferson’s neighbors, chimed in, leaning forward and lowering her volume just a bit, as if she was passing on a secret. “I saw them together a few times.” Astrid had warned him about Susan. That woman was probably the worst gossiper in all of Berk. That’s why he’d made sure she was the first to hear that Astrid was, in fact, not pregnant.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, “he dated Christina for a short while.” He didn’t specify that this short while had only been three consecutive weekends on which they had hooked up. He also deliberately left out the part where Eret had tried to figure out the exact nature of his sexual orientation, having short flings with several women and men. “But then he found love in unexpected places and that’s been going strong for several months now. And counting.” Finally, he might add. He and Astrid had had quite the bet riding on that one. She still owed him several, well, favors.
“Aww,” cooed the group. No comments or expressions of disgust regarding the homosexual nature of Eret’s relationship. If they didn’t like it, they were keeping that to themselves. These people were here for love, no matter the manifestation. And as a bonus, they liked him. Astrid’s entire family, from first cousins to the great-aunt’s third husband, had welcomed him with open arms. Some more wary at first, some with a sassy comment, but warm and openly, nonetheless. He started to feel like he belonged.
“So Hiccup, tell me,” Susan shuffled her chair a little closer to his, expectant look in her eyes, and asked the question he’d feared would come up eventually. “When are you and Astrid getting married?”
“Ah… Um, I- I–”
“Susan, come on,” Rosie chided the nosy woman with a sharp glare that Astrid had obviously inherited from her, “it’s only been a year. This generation is different from yours or mine. Kids these days don’t want to settle down first chance they get. Let them live life!”
Susan pouted, but she listened to Rosie and dropped the topic. Hiccup smiled gratefully at the old lady, even though the truth was a little more complicated than what she’d said.
With a little wink in his direction, she added, “We old folk don’t need to understand everything the youths are up to. Our time is over. Now we just do our job keeping them humble by telling them horror stories about wars and an age before the facebooks and twittle existed.” She raised her glass of white wine spritzer at Hiccup. “Right, my boy?”
Suppressing a laugh, he mimicked the motion with his empty beer bottle. Individual discussions broke out among the table, varying from rants about kids these days to how old Florence had recently bought a 4k TV set. Susan continued to do her best contributing her share of gossip.
Hiccup was just considering leaving the table to it when he felt it. It was subtle, a twitch of his heart, a prickling in his neck, before not a moment later two arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind.
“What are you kids up to over here?” she asked, her lively voice right next to his ear coating his chest in honey. He didn’t register the following conversation, only felt the vibrations of her laughter, distracted by the warmth of her arms around him, her perfume, her general proximity. Despite being used to it by now, the rush of the feeling still turned his insides into an out-of-control carnival ride.
She shifted behind him, bringing her face closer, and whispered in his ear. “Want me to save you?”
There was no need, he was sure he could just leave the table on his own, but he would never turn down the offer to be saved by Astrid Hofferson, who he was sure was descendant from literal Valkyries… He was getting distracted again. “Yes, please,” he whispered back.
She took his hand and pulled him out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get a drink.” They waved goodbye to the table of elders and made their way over to the bar. Immediately, one of her cousins asked him what he wanted to drink, handing him a glass of rum and coke, and in no time, he found himself included in the conversation. And not just because he was Astrid’s boyfriend. He saw it in their eyes, felt it in his gut. He was part of the family.
At some point a little later in the night, the music switched to hits from the 90s and 2000s, and most people left the bar to dance. Hiccup used the opportunity for a minute to breathe, now alone at the bar except for Astrid and two of her cousins. Olive and June were busy with whatever endless row of texts June was receiving, and Astrid had leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the mob on the dancefloor. He slid an arm around her.
“Look at Hank,” she said and pointed at the crowd. A middle-aged man, her dad’s best friend Hank, was raving in the middle of the dancefloor, completely lost in the beat. His shirt had come out of his pants and there was a large beer stain on his chest. People around him were cheering as the usually so composed office worker was letting loose in their midst.
Hiccup spotted a shock of fiery red hair dancing its way over to him and grinned. “Looks like he found a friend.” Astrid chuckled as they watched Dagur join Hank with his ridiculous dance moves, and the two men took over the entire floor. “I’ve never seen anyone so passionate about the Crazy Frog.”
“I have. Dagur and Eret, at a college party.” She grinned and joked, “I really should have seen this coming when Eret ditched me half the night to dance with Dagur.”
Scanning the crowd for Eret, Hiccup found him talking to the DJ. He’d never forget the day Astrid and he had been over at the man’s place for brunch when all of a sudden, the door to Eret’s bedroom had opened and a yawning Dagur, clad in only boxers and a loose bathrobe, had strolled out, disappearing down the hall into the bathroom.
Eret had cleared his throat. “Yeah, so, when I said I had news, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” However he’d thought Hiccup and Astrid to react, he probably hadn’t expected them to instantly start haggling over winnings and unwritten betting conditions. By the time Dagur had joined them at the table, Astrid had admitted defeat and settled for an I told you so-face directed at everyone.
They really made an odd group, even more so with Heather thrown into the mix. Astrid always got a kick out of explaining to other people how they all met, watching them try to figure out the specific relations and histories between all individuals involved. Hiccup had to admit, it was kind of funny.
The song ended, fading over into a beat he loved to hate, or hated to love, accompanied by a honking sound and a distinct 90s beat. Next to him, Astrid bobbed her head from side to side to the music, and the next moment, Eret’s outstretched hand appeared in front of him.
“Hofferson, this is our song!”
Astrid thrust her drink into Hiccup’s hands. “Hold this for me, babe!” Then she pulled Eret onto the dancefloor, instantly falling into a series of dance moves clearly coordinated with Eret’s. Hiccup blinked a couple of times at the sight.
A snort next to him shook him out of his stare. It was Frederick, ordering a tray of drinks. “Whoever has an elaborate choreography to the Vengabus song figured out, deserves to be best friends. Don’t you think?”
Hiccup smirked. “Oh, sure.”
Frederick saw his expression and mirrored it. “You’re not going to let her forget this, are you?”
“Nope.” He took in every little aspect of the show. Oh, she would never hear the end of this. In perfect sync, she and Eret dragged peace signs in front of their eyes, swung their arms around, twirled, and did something vaguely resembling the chicken dance. This even blew Ross and Monica’s Routine from Friends out of the water.
“You can still run and never come back,” Frederick suggested.
“Are you kidding me?” Hiccup laughed. “Why would I ever leave a girl like her?”
“Good answer.” Frederick boxed his shoulder, then took the tray over to the table of elders. The friendly violence seemed to run in the family.
When the song ended and another took its place, Dagur wedged himself between Astrid and Eret, claiming his new dance partner. Shaking her head with a humorous eye-roll, she walked back over to Hiccup and took her glass back. Upon his grin, she asked, “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” His grin didn’t fade. “That was… Beautiful. Graceful. I- I don’t have the words.”
“Shut up, you’re just jealous.”
He wrapped both arms around her, mindful of the drink in her hand, and kissed her temple. “Yeah, totally. I wish I had moves like that.”
“Yes, you wish.” She was grinning now, too, turning her head to give him a kiss, and then another one. He would be crazy if he ever even considered leaving her.
A few songs later, the beat slowed to a Cranberries song. Astrid put her glass away and tugged at his hand. “Your turn.” She didn’t pull him onto the dancefloor, just stepped a few feet away from the bar, put one hand on his back and laid the other in his. Together, they danced on the spot, her face resting in the crook of his neck.
After a while, he mumbled into her hair, “Susan brought up the question.”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “What did you tell her?”
“I didn’t. Before I could say anything, granny Rosie came to my rescue. She said something about generational differences and Susan shut up. We should steer clear of her, though, I don’t think she was satisfied with that answer.”
She huffed. “I can handle Susan.” He knew she could. He just didn’t want to face that question again without feeling the need to explain Astrid’s decision to not get married again; it was none of Susan’s business. If Astrid changed her mind, though, he wouldn’t waste any time. Even if they were in the pharmacy aisle of a rundown big box store, surrounded by diarrhea medicine, and Snotlout was the officiator. Although, come to think of it, he might be able to make himself wait until they’d moved to at least the garden center.
As if she’d read his mind, Astrid lifted her head and looked up. “You want to get married, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer straightaway. “I know you don’t and that’s okay. I want to share a life with you, be by your side, as your partner in everything, no matter what a document says or what last name I have.”
She chuckled. “Oh, so you’d take my name?”
“Sure! Hiccup Astrid Haddock, that has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”
She groaned good-naturedly. “You’re ridiculous.” After a short pause, she continued, “You know what? If I ever end up changing my mind, I’ll take yours.”
“Wait, really? What about your family pride?”
“Oh, I’ll make sure my kids know their roots.”
His lips stretched into a smile. “Your kids, huh?”
Hiding a blush, she buried her face in his shoulder. “You know whose kids.” Her voice came out muffled and was nearly drowned out by the next song, louder and faster than the last, but he’d heard her.
“Okay. Deal.”
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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years ago
Text
The Last Dream of My Soul part 2. (R.L.)
This part is a bit short but I hope that’s okay with you all! Any feedback is appreciated and message me or comment if you want to be tagged! My requests are also open. Enjoy!
Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Reader
Summary: The very bookish (Y/n) has spent most of her life alone, aside from her best friend Lily and her beloved books. But when the infamous Marauders get thrust into her life, how could she resist the beautiful and unattainable Remus?
Warnings: none
Word count: 1.8k
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Part one
By your second week eating breakfast with the Marauders you were starting to feel like you really belonged with them. James was extremely funny, in your opinion the funniest of the group. He never failed to make you laugh when you sat near him in the common room and once he made you laugh so hard in the Great Hall that you had almost choked on your toast. Sirius was also funny but in a different way. He playfully flirted with anything that moved, something that would normally make you scoff, but with him it just made you laugh. You weren’t as close with Peter, though you helped him with his transfiguration homework and he occasionally shared his sweets with you. And then, of course, there was Remus. Remus was by far your favorite of the group, though it was for reasons you’d never dare disclose to anyone but Lily. He was sweet, sending you reassuring smiles when you’d muster up the bravery to tell a story to the group. He’d slip you chocolates when you were studying late at night and fostered the same love for muggle literature as you. Every little thing he did only added to your attraction to him. In your eyes, he was absolutely perfect
You looked forward to the evenings in the common room, sitting next to the crackling fire with the marauders and Lily. Laughing at James and Sirius’s jokes and stealing glances at Remus’s face, seemingly glowing the light of the fire. You finally felt as if you had found your place at Hogwarts.
“Hey (Y/n),” Remus said, startling you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at him.
“Yeah?” you replied. He shifted in his spot on the floor, next to the couch where Lily sat with James.
“I just finished Crime and Punishment,” he said. You turned in the large armchair where you sat to fully face him.
“Oh really? How did you like it?” you asked.
“I liked it, though I have to digress- you were right- it is a bit dense,” he answered. You smiled at his from your seat, quickly looking down at your hands.
“Well of course. I told you so,” you responded. You heard him laugh lightly from the floor.
“I was wondering though if I could borrow your book? The one you talked about at breakfast the other week,” he inquired.
“Oh of course!” you said. “I can go fetch it for you right now.” You gestured towards the stairs that led to the girl’s dormitory.
“Oh you don’t have to get it right now,” Remus said. You smiled and shook your head.
“It’s no trouble. I’ll be right back,” you replied, pushing yourself up from the armchair. He thanked you as you made your way towards the staircase, but you just smiled and waved him off.
When you got to your room you rifled through your bag, attempting to locate the book. You searched for a moment to no avail, before realizing that you had left it on your bedside table. After you retrieved it you turned to head back downstairs, only to almost run directly into Lily.
“Oh my goodness Lils! You scared me,” you said, clutching your chest.
“Oh I’m sorry,” she replied.
“What are you doing up here?” you inquired. Mere minutes ago she was downstairs in the middle of a conversation. You wondered what had brought her upstairs so early. She usually didn’t leave the common room for at least another hour.
“It was getting late and I’m tired,” she replied, shrugging. “Plus James and everyone else decided to go up to bed,” she continued. You felt yourself deflate.
“Oh,” you said. “I was supposed to bring this down to Remus. I guess I took too long,” you said, holding up the book. You felt embarrassed that you had gone all the way upstairs to retrieve him the book when he had just decided to go to be without waiting for you.
“Don’t be silly,” Lily said with a smirk. “He’s still waiting for you downstairs.”
“Oh,” you responded.
“Yes he’s waiting for you all alone in the empty common room,” Lily said in a teasing sing-song voice. You felt yourself blush.
“Lily, I’m going down there to lend him a book. What do you think is going to happen?” you said. Lily just laughed, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You shook your head and headed down towards the common room, now feeling slightly nervous. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you saw Remus’s head pop up. He had moved from his spot on the floor to the now vacant couch. He shot you a smile as you walked over to him.
“Here it is,” you said, handing the book to him. “Sorry I kept you down here waiting for me, I didn’t know everyone was planning on turning in so early.”
“Oh it’s no problem,” he replied, taking the book from you. He quickly flipped through the pages, feeling the worn parchment against his fingers.
“Wow, Lily wasn’t kidding. You really have marked this thing up,” he said, chuckling. You ducked your head in embarrassment.
“Yeah… Sorry about that,” you responded sheepishly. Remus looked up at you, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.
“Oh don’t worry about it. I can tell that you really love the book,” he said. You nodded silently, averting your eyes to your shoes. A silence fell between you as Remus turned the book over in his hands. You were debating whether to bid him goodnight and go upstairs or attempt to start a conversation with him. Luckily, he made the decision for you.
“At the risk of sounding like a complete idiot, what is this book about?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. You giggle softly before sitting down next to him on the sofa.
“Well,” you began. “It’s the story of the muggle French revolution. It follows a man who was kept as a political prisoner, his daughter, a French aristocrat, and a drunken lawyer. It’s full of intrigue and espionage, and while not a romance, it contains what I consider to be the most romantic scene ever written,” you said, catching yourself before you continued to ramble. You look up to meet Remus’s eyes to see that he’s smiling.
“That sounds incredibly interesting,” he said after a moment. You smiled and nodded.
“What qualifies it to be the most romantic scene ever written?” he asked in an almost teasing, yet earnest tone.
“I’m not sure exactly. Something about the words is just perfect. I guess it’s just the kind of thing I wish someone would say to me,” you answered shyly. You saw him nod in your peripheral vision.
“Are you a fan of romances then?” he inquired.
“Yes, I am. They might be my favorite type of book to read,” you answered abashedly. You had always loved the allure of romance novels; Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre had been your go-to reads throughout your adolescence. You longed for a romance of your own, and since that seemed unattainable, you lived vicariously through your books.
“I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of,” Remus said, “Though I can’t say they’re my favorite types of books.” You laughed.
“That doesn’t exactly surprise me, Remus. You are a boy after all,” you said jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your own.
“Hey! That’s an unfair stereotype. I’m sure plenty of boys enjoy romance novels. I am just not one of them,” he said with a smile, nudging you back.
“Why don’t you like them?” you asked. He shrugged, his joking demeanor morphing into a more uncomfortable one.
“I don’t know exactly… I just don’t picture myself wanting a real-life romance, so why would I want to read about a fictional one?” he elaborated. You felt your stomach drop.
“Oh,” you said, attempting to keep your voice even, “so you just don’t want to fall in love?”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s it. I don’t think the whole falling in love and marriage thing is for me,” he responded. You hoped that you appeared to have an unbothered demeanor because it felt as if your heart was breaking.
“That sounds a little sad, don’t you think?” you asked. Remus shook his head, still appearing a tad uncomfortable.
“Not to me. Besides, loneliness isn’t the worst type of pain that one can feel,” he replied. You frowned.
“I’m not sure about that. For me, the pain of loneliness seems unparalleled. I want nothing more than to fall in love,” You took a deep breathe, playing with the hem of your sweater. From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus shrug.
“I guess that’s where you and I differ,” he said after a beat. You nodded quietly. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you stood up from your seat on the couch and dusted off your skirt.
“Well, I best be off to bed,” you said. Remus looked up at you quickly. He gave you a small smile before bidding you goodnight. You quickly turned around and rushed up the stairs.
By the time you got to your dorm, your body felt heavy with disappointment. You closed the door hurriedly behind you before flopping onto your bed. You let out a sad sigh, looking up at the ceiling, After a minute you felt the bed dip beside you and you look up to see Lily grinning down at you.
“So how’d it go?” the redhead asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Fine,” was your response. Lily groaned before laying down next to you in the bed.
“Come on (Y/n). Please just tell me what happened,” she begged.
“Nothing happened,” you said simply, “and it’s been made clear to me that nothing ever will happen.” Lily looked at you, clearly confused.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I have been informed that Remus Lupin is not one for romance. He doesn’t want it now, and he doesn’t want it ever,” you replied, wiping away the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Oh,” Lily said softly. “That was not how I expected that to go.” She turned her head to look up at the ceiling.
“It’s fine,” you said. “I’ve gone seven years without needing a boyfriend. I certainly don’t need one now,” you said defiantly, getting up to begin getting ready for bed. You saw Lily frown.
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t want one. You’re allowed to be sad you know?” she says, propping herself up on her elbows.
“Lily, if I let myself be sad over every boyfriend that I never had then I would have been sad for the last seven years,” you replied. Lily began playing with the threads of the quilt that was splayed across your bed.
“I guess.” She got up quickly and went to join you by your dresser. “Well even if Remus Lupin is too daft to realize it, you’re quite a catch,” she said reassuringly. You giggled quietly.
“Thank you, Lils,” you responded.
“Don’t worry someday you will meet your Mr. Heathcliff,” she reassured you, patting you on the shoulder, before skipping off to her own bed. You run your brush through your hair, desperately hoping that she was right.
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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 11
CLICK HERE IF YOU ARE A FIRST TIME READER
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TW for this chapter: more mild smut. more memes. more hijinks and shenanigans. coffee make the brain go skrrrt. bruce fluff & thor being a good bro™. some1 is catching ✨feelings✨. Previous chapters in the link above the cover pic.
Beta reader is @miscmarvelwritings so don't be shy, give her a read. She's the PB to my jelly.
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"I don't know about you..." Taylor Swift softly sang from the speakers.
"Bitch, I hope the fuck you do!" I shouted, tumbling into the kitchen with the grace of a giraffe on acid. The smell of coffee and fresh omelettes was mouthwatering. 
"You look… Good," Peter stared at me, his coffee mug frozen halfway to his mouth. The tone of his voice bore very little understanding of the situation he found himself in.
I didn't sleep that night, instead pursuing a scientific quest right after being finger-fucked by Tony Stark. I blame the suits - he had one partially disassembled not ten feet from the puddle my juices had made on the floor - and well, I never said I had a great attention span. One terrible, inappropriate joke had led us to smirking to each other from both sides of the suit as we brainstormed how to best modify it for impromptu bondage sessions. If Peter could have heard us go at it, he'd never set foot in Tony's lab ever again.
On my mighty quest to quench the thirst for knowledge, I completely neglected basic hygiene, so the me that rolled into the kitchen that morning still had yesterday's outfit consisting of fishnets and Tony's hoodie, possibly stained with cum and pussy juice. As a bonus feature, infamous raccoon eyes had made an appearance, courtesy of me rubbing my face multiple times throughout the night.
"I'm feeling my oats," I declared proudly, sitting down next to Peter, making grabby hands at the coffee machine.
"I'm tempted to ask..." Clint handed me the steaming hot dish full of holy bean juice. "But I think I'd rather not." Pointedly, he moved away from me, just enough to make it known he was wary.
"What just happened?" Stephen Strange blinked owlishly.
Boy was he a sight for sore eyes. The wizard wasn't Tony, of course, but his plain white tee left very little to imagination, pulled tight across his toned chest and lean arms. The grey sweats? Illegal. That's a bonk and a ticket to the horny jail for me.
"You didn't get to sleep? Again?" Peter asked, exasperated.
"Sleep who?" I chirped, feeling way too energetic for someone running on some illegal drugs and a single orgasm. It was easy to shrug off the concerned stares I kept getting from the adults and Pete since my already wacky attention span decided to quit it's job without notice.
"Guys, have you seen… oh, there she is!" Tony scrambled into the kitchen, holding his head. That manic look did nothing for his complexion, but then again, I'd take him even filthy and crippled. "Don't just disappear like that!" He snatched the half-empty coffee cup, downing it's remnants in one go and immediately going for a refill. "We didn't finish programming in the shibari function..." He mumbled, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy, greasy hair.
"I..." Peter was still frozen. "I'm not sure I, uh, follow."
"So, me and Tones had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea ..." I started, leaning back in my chair. "But the execution, as usual, needs more work."
"Yes, I can see you've been having ideas," Pete's sass was ignored by both me and Tony. The man was kind enough to clumsily plop a coffee cup in front of me as he was beelining for the fridge. "What are you trying to install? Shib-what?"
"You don't want to know, Pete, trust me," Clint made big eyes at me from across the room. "I'm scared of you," He added, pointing an accusative finger in my direction.
I gave him my best manic stare, probably overdid it by a wide margin. Barton shrunk back, slinking subtly behind Stephen who cleared his throat.
"So I've heard you had an incident yesterday," The doctor was looking at me with concern and pity. "Do you need to visit the medbay?"
About a dozen unsaid and very inappropriate responses later, I simply shook my head negative. My mouth was not to be trusted whilst I was so distracted. Plus, he was hot. I kind of tended to think with my vagina instead of my brain around hot people.
"Good morning," Wanda entered the room, stopping briefly at my side to give me a hug. "Ugh, finally," She muttered the words, looking first at me, then at Tony. 
I raised my eyebrow in a silent question and she just smiled, reaching for her own coffee cup.
Tony mercilessly towed me back to his lab once I polished off two omelettes and another cup of coffee - what would've been my fourth was snatched out by an amused Stephen, all stern and firm and magical, meaning he simply whooshed it out of existence as I was raising it to my mouth. He didn't appreciate my choice of expletives, either, none too fondly rolling his eyes and beginning a lecture on heart attacks. Whatever, Tony was my knight in shining armour and we left the kitchen quietly plotting our mechanical plots right over the annoying doctor's mumbling. 
There was quite a lot of delicate soldering involved in the gauntlets of the new suit. Having to construct and fix everything on the go proved to be harder than building a robot; even for Tony, the genius engineer himself. We had burned ourselves and nearly dislocated our wrists too many times to count. Thankfully Friday ran the calculations in the background, so we just did the manual labor part.
And coding. The pounding in my skull, the acid in my loins. My God, I hated coding during a hangover. Tony didn't fare any better and that was the best consolation, really. Despite the consumed caffeine, he passed out somewhere during the initial stage. I held out not much longer, barely catching myself as I was reclining against him on the very floor we were building on, scattered cups and tools and glowing holo-screens keeping us company. 
My sleep was deep but not deep enough to miss a pair of deep male voices contemplating how to best move mine and Tony's sleeping bodies somewhere more comfortable. The engineer was a cuddler, it turns out, and refused to unwind himself from my prone body, going as far as to kick one of the men - I later learned it was Thor who got a swift punt in the shins from Tony when the Asgardian and Banner attempted to untangle our combined limbs. In the end, they settled awkwardly piling me on top of Tony and Thor single-handedly carried us all the way to Tony's penthouse, depositing us in the absolutely magnificent fluffy, enormous bed.
The bed? I wanted one as soon as I landed on it.
The fishnets? They were beginning to cut into the soft parts of my body, causing an uncomfortable stinging and itching sensation whenever I moved.
"Bwucie," I slurred with my eyes shut, feeling the man rustling around with a blanket, tucking us in. He was just the sweetest scientist.
"Sorry, we tried not to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Princess," He whispered, leaning closer to my face. His breath tickled my hair.
"M'kay, jus' wanna get these off," I weakly pulled at the offending piece of clothing.
The man chuckled. "That looks uncomfortable," Before softly sliding his hands up my legs, hooking his fingers under the stretchy waistband and pulling them down. His hands were hot and soft; my moan was softer but he heard it nonetheless, hand briefly stilling on my thigh.
I snuggled deeper into Tony, rolling onto my side and unashamedly throwing a leg over his hips, happy to find his jeans were off, too.
It appeared that Tony's teammates had already developed some sort of care protocol for their resident mad scientists. Bruce's and Thor's actions had been executed with a practiced care and gentleness. The warm fuzzy feeling in my chest blossomed fully as Bruce once more tucked the blanket around me, tenderly patting me on the back and Tony on the shoulder.
"You'nThor, y'the best," I managed to wiggle out the words out of my muddled, uncooperative brain before returning back to the dreamland.
It felt like another ten minute nap when I woke up again. The lights in the room were off, the NYC skyline providing the illumination instead. Tony was still in bed with me, his breathing even and the quiet hum of the arc reactor steady under my ear. It was the first time I'd been close enough to him to hear the sound of it. 
Sleep slowly seeped out of my body, lead disappearing from my limbs. It seemed like I hadn't moved at all. Once my head cleared up, the confusion seeped in. I'd gone to second base with Tony and we did science and never spoke of it again. He didn't kiss me, didn't touch me more than usual - but didn't resist a good ole sleepy cuddle.
What now? I never thought I'd actually get this far. Some part of me - probably the same part that sent me on a romantic novel reading spree a couple of years ago - thought he'd wake up, confess his secret love and attraction for me and we'd seal it with a kiss. Yeah, no, that sounded disgustingly unrealistic even to my own ears. There was no way I would be kissing someone with this swamp I had going on in my mouth.
I wasn't actually that naïve. Why would a man like him pursue something serious with a girl like me? I was a child in his eyes. In fact, all of the Avengers minus Wanda and Bucky treated me like a child. I knew why and I still hated it. I've been taking care of myself in all the ways but financial for years, surely, they had to have noticed that. Teachers in school certainly did. Bruce did, to some extent, I had to admit begrudgingly. Even if his behaviour was really peculiar sometimes.
"Do I make a comfortable pillow, Princess?" A chuckle startled me out of my musings. Tony sounded relaxed and warm and cosy.
"Yeah," I answered honestly, tilting to see his face. He was giving me that lopsided smirk, the one he previously saved for science and Peter and Clint's baking ventures. Something within me stirred, painfully tightening my chest, and I fought against it to preserve this memory like this - happy, carefree.
His thumb found it's way around me, tracing the line of my jaw with surprising tenderness. He was looking at me like I was made of glass. Like I was the most beautiful sculpture he'd ever seen.
I scrunched my nose when his finger found my lips. "I need a shower and a toothbrush," I declared, not knowing what else to do. All of this - the atmosphere, the shared comfort, the looks - it felt too intimate somehow. Having to be on full display of his intelligent, deep brown eyes was terrifying: I felt like crying one moment and laughing the next.
"I was having a moment here," Tony snorted indignantly but relented nonetheless, slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position. 
I admired his broad shoulders and the dips and valleys of his arms as he stretched; he caught me staring and winked, of course. I retaliated with skimming my fingertips under the hem of his tee, lightly scratching my nails over his defined abs, delighted with his shiver. 
"Behave," He sternly mouthed, following with a smile.
"Never," I smiled back, slipping into banter with comfortable familiarity.
He then led me to the huge walk-in shower, unashamedly stripping off his shirt and socks on the way. Boxers were the last, flying somewhere over my head. My hormones were a raging inferno, or, at least that's what I would have said if someone asked me why the 'loading' icon was hanging over my head as I stared at Tony's round, firm ass. I had to touch it. I absolutely had to touch it, at least once in my life. 
My dignity was saved by my own yawn. Tony's hands used the opportunity to slide his hoodie (RIP) over my head, exposing me to the cold air. I shivered in my lacy bra and panties until they were gone, too. My flaws stared back at me from the wall-length mirror and with the way Tony's hands gently settled over my stomach, another hand copping a feel of my breast, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Beautiful, Princess," He simply said, having noticed the frown on my face.
"No, you," I automatically replied, smirking.
"Me? Nah," He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to his arc reactor. "Sexy, however... I'm definitely fucking hot," He leered, pressing his hips into mine with a knowing smirk.
I wiggled my butt, taking my time to turn around and face him. I saw right through the defenses he'd put up. The team didn't start calling me "girl version of Tony" without a reason - I knew we were quite similar in the less desirable character trait category. Impulsive, selfish. Defensive.
Angry red lines spanned across his chest, some faded, some raised. In the middle of it all, the arc reactor shone like a blue little sun in its metal framing. I traced around it, feeling the uneven skin, bumps and dips of it. "It keeps you alive. That's more than enough. For me," I placed a chaste kiss right in the middle of it. 
I wished he didn't have to have the thing. I wished he'd never had to go through what he went though in Afghanistan - for me, the press release I'd read was enough to get a grasp on the fact he was tortured and hurt and fucked up in there.
Stepping into the shower, I retreated from him, retreated from my feelings getting in the way and ruining the fun. The least I wanted to do was humiliate myself by crying out of... Out of what, pity? Lovesickness?
"I'm starting to see why everybody else thinks we might be related," Tony's chuckle sounded tired and slightly forced.
"I hope not," A moment to figure out what knob to turn and hot water rained down my body. Almost instantly, the tension in me melted away. "I'm not really into incest and shit."
"Ew," He walked under the stream, sighing agreeably. "But you're into bondage, so you've got that going on for you."
"Yep. Bondage and hot old dudes," I shrugged, reaching for the shampoo.
"I definitely qualify for all three," Tony promptly snatched the bottle out of my hands, standing behind me to do the tedious task of washing me. I allowed, guiltlessly enjoying the treatment. His dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, caressed my body. 
A moan slipped out of me at the glide of his hand across my nether regions.
"Tut-tut, Birdbrain is going to pitch a fit if we're late for dinner!"
"Fuck the Chicken," I announced petulantly, attempting to follow the motion of his hand with my hips. He held me firmly by my stomach, only succeeding in adding fuel to the fire within me. "Tony-y-y..."
"Nu-uh," He replied, but the smile hidden in my shoulder and the boner poking me in the hip gave him away.
"Sir?" I tried, getting a low groan in response. "Master? Owner? Daddy?" 
His breath stuttered at the last syllable, teeth closing none-too-gently around a patch of my skin. I felt a bruise bloom under his mouth, the delicious pull of it making me realize I'd be marked by Tony for days. A full-body shudder erupted from me at the thought. 
"You're trouble," He growled, grinding his own arousal into my ass. "Filthy, spoiled brat," Tony punctuated his words with another claiming bite on my shoulder blade. 
"I'm your trouble now," I smirked, relishing in all the attention my body was getting. The fingers that granted me sweet ecstasy at night a fresh memory in my mind, I relented my own urgent need in favour of repaying the man of my dreams for his troubles. 
One smirk and my knees rested comfortably on the strangely soft floor of the shower. I came face to face with Tony's hard cock. It stood proudly, the flushed tip of it dripping - with water or pre-come, I didn't know, but was eager to find out. 
"Fuck," Tony gasped, gazing down at me in astonishment as I tongued the slit of his cockhead. "You dirty little thing," He seemed to gather his wits quickly enough, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. 
He was just about to find out how dirty, I decided. There was something satisfying on a purely primal level, seeing a powerful man absolutely losing it with his dick in my mouth. Rapidly, I swallowed as much of him as I could. His girth throbbed. 
"Ruin me?" I popped off, resting my cheek against the hardness of it, tugging on his free hand to place it in my hair. My own arousal flared in response to his bewildered hunger.
Tony wasted no time in fisting a hand in my hair, carefully but firmly putting my mouth onto his cock. Inch after inch disappeared within my mouth; I was breathing through my nose as he slowly began fucking my mouth.
"Fuck, Jesus Christ, Princess, fuck," The mantra fell from his lips, echoing in the large room, mixing in with the water still pouring onto our bodies from above. The heat of it had nothing on the smouldering fire in my belly where it coiled tight and low. Tony's musk on my tongue, the firm hold on my hair. He truly held me, in body and in mind. There was nowhere else I'd rather be than on my knees for him.
I moaned around him causing a stutter in the moderate tempo. Our eyes met: his, wide and gleaming captured my own and I couldn't look away. With a wanton moan, Tony increased the pace, it quickly became brutal and punishing. I held onto his thighs for dear life, wordlessly pleading him to use my mouth for his own pleasure. 
And he took it, shamelessly, emptying himself into my mouth with a groan that nearly made me come untouched. It was beautiful and I swallowed every drop of him, refusing to let the evidence of his bliss go to waste. 
"Fuck," His voice was ragged. 
I rested my cheek against his thick thigh, catching my breath. "Good?" Just to quickly be pulled to my feet, trapped between his hot, wet body and the chilly tiles of the nearest wall. The shiver that ran through me was only partially caused by the sudden change in temperature.
"You did so good, you're my good girl," He mumbled against my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth without any restraint. His other hand slid between my legs, immediately toying with my clit. That and the hastily spoken praise coupled with the feverish way he was licking himself out of my mouth sent me over the edge, until I was falling, stumbling head-first into an ecstatic abyss.
"Mmm... Tony," Dreamily, I savoured the moment.
"Oh, we're back to first name basis?" He snarked, finally turning off the water.
Pliant as ever, I followed him out of the shower and into his walk-in closet where he pointed at a row of t-shirts and hoodies. I grinned mischievously as I took my pick. "Daddy?"
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percyjacksonfan3 · 3 years ago
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The Last Olympian Thoughts
So because I have absolutely 0 self-control or restraint when it comes to this series and its characters, and for The Last Olympian in particular, I could not put TLO down. Because of this I figured I couldn’t do the usual photo reaction posts I have been so far, because the spam would just be ridiculous, so I am stealing the idea from @yourstrulytaaay​ to do a masterpost instead. (Adding a Read More cause this got ridiculously long)
Fun fact, TLO came out right after i finished reading the series for the first time so it's the first PJO book i bought  and my only hard cover one for the og series. I checked the year and turns out it was published 2009, which means i was actually 9 when i read the series for the first time. I realize this is not really a fun fact but i thought i was older when I first read the series so it's blowing my mind a little ‘cause now I’m 21 and everything hits different and i still have so much love for this series and the characters Okay onto book thoughts: - i was right that this book is gonna destroy me, the first line alone made me so excited and nostalgic it's ridiculous - I love Rachel and Percy sm tbh. Her being a bit of peace and normalcy in his life without always reminding Percy of who and what he is is so good for him. Just a little escape
- of course by the end of the book that's not the case any more but by the end he's lived his prophecy so he doesn't need it as badly, plus he and Annabeth are solid again - Percy saying Annabeth has been hard to be around lately... Ouch my heart. Luke really is the last thing that keeps them from being together and Percy is so jealous and Annabeth so torn and in pain, i feel so bad for them both
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- Beckendorf 🥺🥺 - the telkhine with the Lil Demon lunchbox!! I forgot about him. Percy: 'i left him alive, partly because his lunchbox was cool' is one of my absolute favourite lines tbh - Paul taking Percy crabbing and being imperative in helping Percy kill the giant crab 💖 Paul Blofis is important and deserves the world, okay? - aw Percy, you can't save every demigod bb
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- 'i had to fight him eventually. Why not now?... What difference would a week make?' Oh Percy you have no idea - real talk tho, the fact Kronos possessed Luke's body would also mess me tf up. Percy keeps forgetting it's not Luke anymore and yeah, that would be so so hard and confusing af, like what another smart little mind game for Kronos to pull on top of everything else - the fact Percy fights Kronos before getting the Achilles Curse and actually doesn't die within seconds is... Astounding. He kicks him in the chest! And yeah Kronos is weaker and still adjusting to Luke's body, but Percy is having trouble fighting Luke cause they used to be friends - Percy breaks Kronos' time magic!! Like?! Boy is POWERFUL.
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- OUCH - honestly Luke, Thalia and Annabeth's family breaking the way it did... Don't talk to me. Poor Annabeth, Luke betrayed them, Thalia joined the Hunters because of Luke's betrayal so she's pretty much AWOL all the time and then Luke dies. Like Rick wtf, my heart can't take it? -Percy and Tyson having each others backs when talking to Poseidon in the underwater palace is the brother-brother relationship we love to see - Percy trying to stick a sand dollar in the vending machines at school 🤦🏻‍♀🤦🏻‍♀ - the whole underwater interaction at Poseidon's palace? Perfection. Awkward family drama and all - Connor falling out of the tree when he sees Percy because he's so excited 😂😂
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- 😭💖
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- k, ik Clarisse isn't perfect but tbh if i was a child of Ares whose father was disrespected and hated by my fellow campers (ares deserves it but still) and that disrespect trickled down to how the other campers treated ME (which if Percy is reliable here, it obviously does) then i would also be irritated at being used for muscle and nothing else? And just expected to fight with the people who act as if they'd rather not have Ares kids around the rest of the time. Like Clarisse isn't totally wrong - Percy reading the prophecy, seeing he's meant to die and just being like 'i do not see it' and refusing to outright think about it makes me so sad for him - (but it taints every action after and he's super reckless afterwards bc of it- including finally breaking and accepting the Achilles Curse) - (also him taking this as the last straw and finally beginning to show Annabeth how he really feels, cause fuck it, he's dying anyway) - Give me more info about Rachel's backstory and family Rick!! -  how did i forget Percy willingly eats chocolates that taste like cardboard because 'i didnt have anything against cardboard' like sir? Ik Silena didn't want them but still? - 'she'd always been cute, but she was starting to be seriously beautiful' STOP, MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT - Percy staring at Annabeth and forgetting what they're talking about cause hes so distracted 👌🏻
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- hmm yeah... For some strange reason.... - i forgot how Percy totally bombs this convo bw them and now want to cry 😭 Annabeth is trying to talk about what's important and Percy, you sweet oblivious man, you're shooting her down without even realizing - love that they're both on the same wavelength tho. Percy two lines before, hmm it's cool to date ppl from other cabins, wonder why im thinking that around Annabeth, my best friend in the world, and then Annabeth a beat later, hmm, let me bring up Silena and Beckendorf and how it's important to be with the people you love when you have the chance, no way Percy will miss this huge hint right? - they're the best - k i honestly forgot Percy full on physically intimidates Leneus like that - luke telling his mom if he ran away the monsters wouldnt get her..i can just imagine luke crying when he says good bye before running away because he thinks it's his fault his mom is like that and he cant take care of and protect her anymore because it's too hard - uh oh now i have angsty pre-lightning thief luke fic inspo... Him, Thalia and Annabeth on the run... The ANGST -  Rick holds absolutely nothing back in this book and i am in pain - HESTIA!! 💖💖🥰 - actual loml - i love that Rick titled this book after her and that he wrote such a great series about the importance of family (biological, found or otherwise) and home, and that he said actually Hestia is the most important bc shes the most humble and keeps the peace and knows when to fight and when to yield and you protect what you love, which is your home - i just... Adore Hestia - Grover! Missed you babes - Hades is so so horrible to Nico, always comparing him to Bianca :/ - but i do love Hades, Persephone and Demeter together they make me laugh - oh god the River Styx - Achilles 🥺 - Annabeth being Percy's lifeline is, and continues to be, A Lot™ - 'my name was Percy Jackson. I reached up and took Annabeth's hand.' LOL Why am i crying? - Like the fact there is no Percy without Annabeth, and that remembering her literally reminded him of who he is in his very soul... It's fine im fine - i won't even get into the parallels of her being his lifeline now and then later when Hera takes his memories but leaves the memory of Annabeth for Percy to fight to get back to (anyone who wants to yell about it with me... Feel free to message) - badass Percy is my fav Percy tbh - him defeating Hades?? Like? Hades is arguably the most powerful god, okay - i feel bad for Nico but if i was Percy I'd do the exact same, Nico, sorry man but this is a high stakes time crunch deal and Nico is literally the only hope of persuading Hades and distracted by his own internal stuff - flashbacks to Luke, Thalia and Annabeth hurt, ow - George and Martha are the best - damn i forgot Hermes full on nearly kills Percy here, yikes - Luke stop cockblocking Percabeth challenge
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- i love!! Percy's love for New York!! So much!! - Percy leaving to live in New Rome in HoO is a lie and this is all the proof i need for why - the fact the entire last half of the book is the battle and aftermath... Such great buildup and pacing. All the tricks and twists and battles in this War of Manhattan? I would not take out a thing, Rick, you legend - of course then the final battle in hoo with the gods is what? Two pages? Ugh, don’t talk to me about my hatred for BoO and HoO - 'no detours you two' is still the cutest thing!!! - THE HUNTERS!! Thalia i missed you - good job Percy, you finally spent your sand dollar - Minotaur!! - 'dont i get a kiss for luck? Its kind of a tradition right?' Percy finds out he's gonna die and is out of fucks to give and honestly I support him - also Michael just standing beside these two while they're flirting like umm 👀 👀 while a monster army marches towards them, nbd - Annabeth taking Ethan's knife meant for Percy!!! Cause she just knows his weak spot without him even telling her! They literally invented love - Feral Percy is so scary omg, i love how well Rick incorporates the Achilles Curse in this novel, with the whole heightened weaknesses and stuff ans the parallels to Achilles arrogance being what killed him and Percy's loyalty, fierceness and protective instinct being his own heightened weakness - the fact that Percy is the one who inadvertantly kills Michael Yew tho, I'll never recover from that - the fact Hades offers Maria di Angelo a golden palace by the Styx like how Poseidon offers Sally a palace under the sea tho. Let's talk about that parallel - the entire talk with Prometheus is so so good - not me picturing young Luke hiding in the closet to get away from his mom when she has an 'episode' -i love callbacks in stories and all of the callbacks to the rest of the series in this book make me very happy (medusa, minotaur, the underworld, Rainbow!! My baby!!, Daedalus and more) - Percy summoning a wholeass hurricane against Hyperion - the Party Ponies! They're so chaotic, i love it - Dionysus! 😁 I can't help it, i love him - Percy absolutely losing it when he sees Sally and Paul asleep in the car 🥺 - Rachel telling Percy he's not the hero screws with him so much :( poor bb - although i really really love how Rick wrote this, it's so refreshing to not have one chosen one save the world, but a combination of people - the drakon, Silena and Clarisse make me cry - the Patrochilles references, im not okay - Annabeth giving up on Luke after hearing what he did to Silena and Percy telling her that doesn't make him happy 😭 that whole interaction makes my heart ache - Percy giving Hestia Pandora's pithos 🥺 - and Hades, Nico and the others coming for a final attack is so badass, i love it - listen im glad the og trio were the ones to confront Luke on Olympus but the fact Thalia got so close and then pinned by a statue of HERA makes me so sad. Ik her and Luke were finished and she coped by cutting him off completely and giving up all hope but i would pay money to know what they would have said to each other to say goodbye - Ethan 🥺 - Poseidon joining the fight against Typhon is so cool, such a great scene - 'PEANUT BUTTER!' - Annabeth you brilliant badass you - RIP Luke, you werent great but you werent the worst either - the gods just rolling up seconds too late, wondering wtf happened in Olympus and who the dead body is - the chapter where the Olympians meet and give out rewards is one of my absolute favourites (again i am incensed we didn't get anything like this in HoO) - will Percy turning down immortality ever not make me scream in glee? No? Alright then - Annabeth being relieved like Percy was relieved at the end of Titan's Curse tho - oh Hermes :/ - its so hard reading all this and knowing what comes in HoO... Like it's such a cathartic, earned and mostly happy and peaceful ending and then HoO comes along and undermines it all - aww Rick let Paul see Olympus somehow pls, he deserves it, he killed a dracanae - (i would also love to see it) - Percy being more upset Rachel took his pegasus than her going to Camp and possibly dying, lol, priorities dude - i honestly think that Rick had other ideas for the second Great Prophecy and how things would go down in BoO, cause the prophecy like... Barely applies to BoO, Doors of Death are in book four, and explabations of it is all so unclear when Rick is usually pretty good with that stuff - PERCABETH - lol Percy complaining about privacy when he and Annabeth are caught kissing literally in the middle of the very open and public dining pavilion, okay - BEST UNDERWATER KISS OF ALL TIME - that's it and im a glass case of emotion - very happy to say that this series remains my favourite of all time 💖
 If anyone ever wants to come gush about anything Riordanverse related feel free, because as you can see I have a lot of thoughts about it all
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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago
Text
Descent Pt. 1
I told myself I was gonna take a break. I lied. I wanted to write a whole bin of Sin for Simeon. I’m sorry, not sorry at all. Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list: Chapter Masterlist: Here Crossposted on Ao3: here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]
Paring: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 4,900 ish Genre: Smut Tags: Masturbation, Voyeurism, hints of dirty talk? Summary: Sent from the Celestial realm to observe and study humans; Simeon made a name for himself as the illustrious author of The Tales of the Seven Lords. After reaching acclaim for his first series, he's having trouble writing his next great hit. Good thing you're there for him as his manager and editor to help him work out the... kinks in writing.
Trip
The most dangerous aspect of humans was their innate ability to tempt even the most stalwart and steadfast of angels into a world of sin. Simeon was not immune to their ways, no matter how reclusive he became. It was easy to study them from afar, learning about them through numbers and sales numbers. The masses were easy to sway with a few pretty words. Blending in with humans was a trivial task for him. All he had to do was make a few public appearances for book signings and some launch parties for a new series; otherwise he was free to observe and study from afar. 
After the international success of The Tale of The Seven Lords, Simeon found himself feeling rather empty. He needed a new project to keep him entertained in the human realm. However, no matter what he started to work on, it didn’t inspire the same sort of passion he had for his older series. He needed a new genre, a new style of writing to refresh his passion for words. If he was going to make it in an ever changing market, he would need to adapt as well. Yet, no matter what genre he tried, every draft he came up with seemed too mundane and overdone. 
Everything except, for the temptation of writing something much more salacious than his last work. 
Just entertaining the thought had him on a slippery slope of falling from the grace of the Celestial realm. Sure, the strict protocols of olde had been loosened over the centuries. Many angels realized that enforcing perfect adherence to the standards of purity set so long ago no longer applied to modern times. Rules had been loosened and enforcement had relaxed to the point where Simeon was almost positive if he wrote an absolutely obscene novel, he didn’t risk losing his Celestial powers. 
The only problem was that he had no experience in the genre at all. He threw together a vague plot and outline, thinking it would be all he needed to inspire him. Surprisingly enough, the publishing house allowed for the drastic change in genre, confident that he would be able to create another best seller. Just having that much trust put in him made him want to succeed even more with the haphazard novel idea. 
But, despite his determination to make his new manuscripts lewd, he was at a complete loss as to what, and how to write them properly. The outline he presented to you seemed excellent on paper. Even if it had a few plot holes, you knew he could patch them up with a little work. So, it was natural that you would push the approval and leave him to his own devices to work on the manuscript. You were sure that an author of his caliber would be able to break into a new branch of the literary market without any issues. 
But, after several months of waiting, you had no contact at all from him regarding the progress of his new book. The industry needed proof of his work in order to justify their investment in him. Being so renowned, the pressure was on him to create something magnificent. You could only imagine the kind of stress he was going through and as his manager and editor, you were responsible for making sure he met deadlines. You hated to rush his process, but there was no way he could meet the dates set by the publisher if he didn’t give you something to work with soon. 
After trying to reach out to him several times by phone and email with little to no response, the only option left was to go to his abode and see just what he was hiding from. No other outline he submitted had passed so this was his one and only chance to continue his writing career. You patiently waited after knocking on his door, hoping he would answer and wasn’t going to ignore you any further. You knew how serious writer’s block could be; but you hoped he wouldn’t let that get in the way of being a professional. 
Luckily, the door opened soon enough and you were ushered in by an extremely tired and frazzled looking Simeon. He lead you to his office after you had taken off your shoes and changed into the guest slippers he offered. Simeon didn’t speak to you during the whole exchange, a shell of the soft spoken and attentive author you had come to know after so many years of working with him. He shuffled into his office, an obvious slouch in his posture and slumped behind his desk before gesturing at the empty chair across from him. 
“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” You said and he sighed in resignation, burrowing his head in his hands and running them through his hair. You felt terrible adding stress onto him, he looked ragged, like he hadn’t slept in days. The bags under his eyes were so dark, they almost looked like deep bruises. 
“Yes… You want a manuscript…” his normally soft voice sounded hoarse and you wondered if he had eaten or drunken anything at all that day. “I’m almost done with the first draft… would you like to come and see?” He turned his laptop towards you and you started reading what he had so far. 
All seemed well and good at first. The characters were believable and the premise, though a bit cheesy, was definitely acceptable for the genre. The further you read, the more you noticed large gaps in his writing. Whole paragraphs seemed to be missing and sentences ended midway. Dialog was left unfinished and by the time you reached the end of the first chapter, it was a mess. You could already feel the inevitable headache you were going to get from editing for him. 
“Uhm…”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not my best work.” 
He tried to smile, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. You reached out to him and held his hand, rubbing your thumb in reassuring circles on his palm. “You’ve worked hard on it, still. What’s got you so hung up though?” 
He got a little flustered at your question, nervously running his hand through his hair and looking to the side. Writing such a topic with no experience in it was proving to be difficult for him. He could research all he wanted and consume all the media he could to aid him, but there was just something missing. His lack of knowledge was showing and he wasn’t sure how he could keep being composed about his failure so far. He gestured at the screen and shrugged, trying to get his message across without using words; but, when he saw your confused expression, he had to speak. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” he finally admitted. “I want to write this so badly, but I don’t know how to… describe the scenes the way I want to.” 
You sat back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest and nodding. You could only imagine the difficulty he was having in producing the quality content you were sure he was used to coming up with. With deadlines looming above your head, you needed at least a chapter to submit to the publishing house so they knew actual work was being done. You sighed, trying to think of ways to jump start his creativity. The gloomy atmosphere of his office didn’t seem help. The lights were dim and the curtains were all drawn. It didn’t feel like a place that could invoke the imagery he was going for. “Let’s move somewhere.” you suggested finally. “Do you have a room with lots of sunlight? Maybe a change of mood will help.” 
“Ah… there’s the sunroom..” he said. “But I don’t know if just changing where I am writing will help the situation. If it hasn’t gotten done here, I doubt it will anywhere else.” 
“Just try it.” you encouraged, already unplugging his laptop and taking it with you. “It’s so gloomy in here, even I’m getting depressed just sitting around. Come on, which way is it?” 
“Ah… this way.” He said, shamefully shuffling out from behind his desk and showing you the way to the sunroom which overlooked a rather well manicured garden with a variety of flowers in full bloom. You marveled at the bright, airy feel of the room and took a second to really appreciate his choice in decor. 
“Wow, would have never pegged you as the kind of guy who gardens.” You teased, flopping onto the couch he had in there and lounged in its plush confines. Looking through the glass ceiling, you watched a few clouds drift by while Simeon got comfortable in a recliner in the corner of the room. You could tell he was still a bit frustrated, but you knew getting him some sun would do him good. 
“Well, when I don’t have any pressing deadlines, being with the plants helps relieve stress. It’s unfortunate that I cannot give you a tour this time.” 
“There’s plenty of opportunities in the future. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. You know I’m going to keep hounding you until your manuscript is finished.” 
He chuckled, nodding and opening up his laptop. You let silence pass between the two of you, going back to watching the clouds while the sound of his fingers flying across the keyboard lulled you into a daydream like state. You grabbed onto one of the large, decorative pillows he had on the couch, clutching it against your chest while you made up stories in your head about the clouds above. If you weren’t so stressed about turning something into the publishing house so soon; it would have been a perfect, calming afternoon. 
The clack of the keyboard stopped after a little bit. Whatever inspiration Simeon had when he entered the room seemed to have fizzled out and he was stuck in yet another rut, writing one word and deleting it over and over again. You sighed, turning to watch him as he gnawed on his thumb, mumbling to himself. 
“What’s not working?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. 
“Just… this scene… it’s not working. I can’t envision it.” He grumbled. Looking up at where you were laying on his couch, clutching onto the pillow, he was suddenly struck by a brilliant plan. The worry lines on his forehead disappeared and he broke out into a slight smile when he realized how he could get his creative juices flowing. “Help me… I need inspiration.” 
You sat up straight, ready to assist in any way you could. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” You asked. 
Simeon squinted, in the right light, you looked similar to the main character he had written. His plan could work if you reenacted the scene he had in mind. The issue was actually explaining the scene to you in a way that didn’t make his body feel overheated. He was already playing with fire by writing such a lewd book, pushing his limits further felt like he was sliding right down a slope heading towards a great fall. There was no other way, he reasoned. As long as I do not defile her, it’ll be fine. Taking a deep breath, he got up from where he was and walked over to you. 
“I need you to…. Uhm… Well.. how do I say this… I’m having trouble writing a love making scene and I need some… visual aids.” You blinked, processing his request and then looked him up and down, feeling your whole body heat up at once. You were sure you had kept your crush on him a secret. To have him ask you so suddenly to provide visual aid for an explicit novel felt like too big of a jump for you to comprehend. “Oh… Oh no, no, no. You don’t have to do anything with me.” He said, gesturing wildly when he saw you pointedly stare at his crotch. “You can just pretend that this is the ‘lover.’” He took the pillow from your arms and laid it on the couch. 
You didn’t know if you should have felt relived or disappointed that he wanted you to reenact a sex scene with a pillow and not him. It was all quite a bit to take in, but the desperate pout on his face was something you couldn’t ignore. And both your jobs were on the line. You sighed in resignation. “Okay, okay… But only because we have deadlines coming up.” You said. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” 
Simeon smiled for the first time that day, hurriedly moving back to his computer and preparing to take notes on what you were doing. “I’m ready when you are.” he announced once he opened up a separate document. 
“You sure you don’t want me to just, you know… do you?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as you started to undress. It was embarrassing for sure; but part of you relished in seeing Simeon so flustered when it came to the nature of lewd things. You wondered why he had bothered submitting such an outline at all when he wasn’t familiar with how to write erotica; but his determination to branch out to other genres had won you over in the end. It just fell upon your shoulders to show this man how it was done. 
“I… No… I can’t. I need to write.” He stuttered. Do not defile her, do not defile her. Her womb is sacred and not something you can toy with… Even if he wanted the first hand experience, he still had rules to abide by. 
“Alright, whatever you say. You’re the boss.” You shrugged, unbuttoning your blouse. “Don’t forget, part of the sexiness is in the tease.” You explained, taking your time to sway your hips side to side as each button came undone. Trying to seduce a pillow was so much more boring than trying to seduce Simeon. The things I do for this job… 
You made sure to waggle your ass as you peeled off your pants, tossing them to the side along with your blouse. There was something thrilling about being in a room made of glass. Any woodland creature that decided to come visit his garden at that moment would also get an eyeful of your progressively bare body. The rush of having Simeon watch you as you stripped had your heart racing. 
At the very least, you knew your efforts weren’t in vain. You could hear the furious clacking of the keyboard as you gave the pillow in front of you a sultry look. As lame as it all was, it was still rather arousing to know you were being watched by the man who you had crushed on for so long now. “Alright… sir. I’m going to need you to lay down. You have a problem that only I can take care of.” You said to the pillow. You tried hard not to laugh at how ridiculous the scenario was. It wouldn’t do to break the mood, especially when you could tell Simeon was definitely getting some writing done. 
You got back onto the couch, straddling the pillow between your legs once you were in nothing but your underthings. Licking your lips, you pretended that Simeon was under you and not the decorative cushion. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel his lean body under your own, squirming in discomfort as you took control of the scenario. There was just something about how gentle and soft spoken he was that made  your heart flutter with the need to dominate him until he was a flushed, moaning mess. 
Using that fantasy in your mind, you slowly started to gyrate your hips onto the pillow, throwing your head back and moaning. “Oh yes…” You breathed, pleasantly surprised at the stimulation you got from the friction of your panties rubbing against your spread core. You hummed, content with the thought of Simeon holding onto your hips to keep your steady. If he wanted to watch, then you were going to give him the best show available. 
You grasped at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra until they were sensitive little buds that made you gasp. As you continued to grind against the pillow, you could feel your essence starting to flow, no doubt you were going to leave quite a substantial wet mark on the pillow if you continued. You wanted to pause and warn Simeon of what was about to happen; but when you turned and saw the look of concentration on his face, you didn’t dare break his focus. 
He’ll just have to deal with it later… You figured going back to that happy place in your mind where the writer in front of you was actually under you. Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to hear him moan as you pressed your heat against his cock. Surely he must sound absolutely angelic when he cums. Pushing slipping your hands under your bra, you pushed the fabric away, peeled it off your skin and threw it into a random corner to pick up later. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.” You purred, looking down at the cushions below you, wishing you had something sexier to talk dirty to; but you would have to make do with what you had. 
Leaning down, you grabbed a pillow to act as your ‘lovers’ head and started to kiss it. It was so hard to ignore just how disappointing it was to make out with a lump of fabric and not the beautiful man in the corner who was so engrossed with his writing, you might as well have been invisible to him. You could only use your imagination to fantasize about how soft Simeon’s lips must be. He always took such good care of his skin and he had an ethereal glow about him, as if he was blessed by the sun itself. You moaned into the pillow, hating the rough canvas you were pressed up against, but at least your pussy was getting something out of how much you were humping the pillow. 
You came up, gasping for air after having half smothered yourself with a pillow and glanced over at Simeon again. Even as he was furiously typing, you could see that he was at least a little affected by the show you were putting on. Good, I would have hated myself if he’s not even a smidgen turned on by this. You smirked, looking down at your ‘lover’ and pretended to whisper sweet nothings to them before getting off the couch. 
Simeon made a small sound of protest when he saw that you were no longer straddling the pillow, but he quickly shut up when he saw that you were divesting yourself of your panties. “Oh… carry on.” He mumbled, going back to his document, though his eyes continuously flicked up towards you to make sure he was capturing the moment properly. 
Feeling your bare pussy rub against the rough fabric of the pillow sent shivers of pleasure up and down your body and you moaned, riding it harder than before. The stimulation was great, but it wasn’t enough. Really, you wanted to have Simeon buried balls deep in you and not at his computer. However, your priority was your job and that meant sticking to what you had to work with. “Fuck…” You groaned, clenching your inner walls around nothing and wishing that you had at least a toy to fill you up and give you something to ride. 
You ground against the pillow, your essence soaking the fabric and leaving a sizable wet mark, but you didn’t care. It was all the stimulation you could get and you were going to work it for all it was worth. One hand went back up to your breast, rolling your pert nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure you were giving yourself. “Yeah… you like watching me touch myself, babe?” You asked no one in particular; but truthfully, you hoped Simeon was really enjoying what he saw and heard.. 
His fingers on the keyboard never ceased moving as he vividly described the scene before him. He was so wrapped up in his work, he didn’t even notice himself getting hard. There was too much to write and no time to think about the attention the rest of his body was asking for. He licked his lips, his gaze constantly going back and forth from the document to your body. You were acting out the scene so well, he couldn’t stop writing; he needed to record every detail. You were everything he had imagined his main character to be; effortlessly confident, commanding in the bedroom and dripping with sex appeal. Even if it was a spur of the moment suggestion, he had no regrets considering he was getting so much more writing done in the last half hour than he had in the past two months. 
Your breathing came out in short little pants as you tried to chase a release that just wouldn’t come with so little to work with. You reached between your legs to fondle your sensitive clit, groaning loudly as you made love to yourself. You didn’t know how long the scene was supposed to be, but your thighs were getting tired of riding an inanimate object and you just wanted to get off now. 
“Mm fuck.. You feel so good…” You breathed, closing your eyes and imagining Simeon sliding inside of you. The first pass must feel so good. You fantasized about lowering yourself onto his cock slowly letting him savor every inch that entered you. In your head, his bright blue eyes glittered in lust, watching his dick disappear into you until your hips met and he would moan at the feeling of being completely buried in you. “Yeah… just like that…” You moaned, rubbing circles at your clit while your inner walls clenched rhythmically at air. 
You went back to dragging your pussy across the fabric of the pillow smearing your essence all over to get as much out of the scenario as you could. Your fingers rubbed your clit harder, pushing you ever closer and closer to release. “Oh… Oh… I’m so close…” You whined, announcing your climax mere seconds before it happened. The last push you needed was looking over at Simeon and seeing him completely engrossed in what you were doing. His fingers frozen on the keyboard and his comfortable pants with a rather impressive tent in them. 
“Fuck. Simeon.” you cursed, cumming all over the pillow. Your fingers slowed their pace around your clit, rubbing your labia back and forth as you rode out the orgasm. You fell forward onto the pillows beneath you, still slowly humping them while you let the initial high pass and the afterglow set in. It wasn’t until the haze of pleasure passed that you realized you had called his name while getting off on his couch in front of him. 
Simeon swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way you called his name. Everything had gone smoothly until you had cried out for him while in the throes of your climax. He had stopped everything he was doing just mere moments before you did that; and now, he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to continue with what he was writing. 
For once, he was tempted to throw away whatever celestial blessings he had to take you and be the real reason why you screamed his name. 
Shoving the indecent thoughts to the back of his head, he turned back to his document, writing a sentence and erasing it, repeating the action over and over again while his brain looped the beautiful image of you as you came on his couch. Now, he noticed the tightness in his pants, the obvious boner he sported as a result of such an experiment. But, he couldn’t be mad at it. He had achieved a groove in writing and he was sure he could finish the draft you needed in time.
Simeon let you rest a bit and gather yourself together on the couch. No doubt both of you were aware of the slip, but he could pretend it didn’t affect him as much as it did. Eventually, you had the courage to look back up at him, only to find him busily typing away at his computer. Sighing, and running your hand through your hair amused that he could stay so calm, you got up and started to get dressed. “So, I’m guessing moving somewhere else worked?” you asked, keeping your tone light. 
“Hmm… yes.” He agreed, half paying attention to what you were doing. He couldn’t bear to look at you while you were exposed and waited patiently until you were fully clothed until he made eye contact and spoke to you again. “I definitely got some good notes in. I’ll just need a little more time to flesh out some of the filler scenes and I’ll email you the draft in a couple of days.” 
You let out a laugh, surprised that he was able to focus on work still after what he had just witnessed. He truly was as innocent as he presented himself to be sometimes. “Alright, well. I’ll look forward to reading it.” 
“Will you be back?” he asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You were so helpful, I think I might need more help for the rest of the book.” Not, like I want to see something like that again… No, I just need it for research purposes… 
“You know I’ll be back.” You laughed heartily, ruffling his hair. “I have to bother you at least once a month to make sure you’re on schedule to finish.” 
Simeon slouched into his chair and let out a soft laugh in relief. “Of course, how could I forget.” In his mind, he was already planning new scenarios for you to play out. There would be much more research to be done, and supplies to be obtained before your next visit. But, all those things could wait. For now, he closed his laptop, noticing how low on battery it had gotten.Time had slipped by him, the sun already well on its way past the horizon. “It’s getting late…” He commented, trying to change the subject to something a little safer than the masturbation session you just had in front of him. 
“Yeah… I’ll get going and let you work in peace.” In a moment of bold recklessness, you stepped forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you next time, babe. Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna make me do for you.” you teased, giving him a coy wink before showing yourself out.
As soon as the door was firmly shut, Simeon let out a deep sigh, laughing out loud at the predicament he had put himself into. He wanted to quit everything and dissolve into the ground. He wanted to continue writing and see your body writhe in pleasure. He wanted to also defile you and sate himself inside of you. Most of all though, there was a growing darkness within him, one he didn’t even notice just yet; and that part of him craved to see you put in your place to beg for him like the god he knew he was. 
Pushing all his desires down and curbing his lust for the time being, he moved his computer back to his office and let it charge for the rest of the evening. His mind still swirled with the image of your exposed body riding that pillow in the sunroom. The early evening sunset made your body glow with an almost angelic light; and for once, he felt jealous of an inanimate object.
Quietly padding back into the sunroom, he looked at the soiled cushion; feeling a surge of heat rush through him when he saw the wet spot you had left behind. Licking his lips, he approached it like it was a wild animal, tentatively poking at it. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend to still feel your warmth lingering on the fabric. He could feel shame rising up in him as he laid down on the couch, rested his head on the pillow and took a deep breath, memorizing the scent of your arousal. 
His hand reached down between his legs, slipping past his pants and to his hard length that needed his attention. Turning his head to smother his moans and to surround himself with your unique smell, he teased and pleased himself, putting himself in the scenario you had played out just mere moments ago. 
“Oh… oh fuck…” He groaned surprised at how little effort it took to make him cum and ruin his pants to the thought of you bouncing on his cock and calling his name. He was quickly falling down the deep end of temptation and he could feel the darkness of sin encroaching. 
The scariest part was the fact that he didn’t care at all. 
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sssrha · 4 years ago
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WangXian wouldn’t have been very functional pre-Wei Wuxian’s resurrection
So I was talking to @litescheme on Twitter and I decided to pour my heart out about how I hated the general fandom consensus that Wei Wuxian going to Gusu when Lan Wangji asked him to would have solved all of his problems, primarily because the idea of just straight up going to Gusu is incredibly flawed. Lo and behold, they agreed wholeheartedly. We had a great discussion and now I’m here to relay the discussion onto Tumblr in essay form uwu.
(By the way, this is based mostly on CQL with a good bit of novel added in, as well as a few hints of the donghua.)
Part One: “Come back to Gusu!” is a great romantic notion but a terrible plan of action.
First of all, one must ask the question: what on Earth was Lan Wangji’s game plan with the whole “Come back to Gusu!” thing? I think we can all agree that most of the Lan Sect hated Wei Wuxian - by the end, at least. Lan Xichen certainly had less than charitable feelings toward him. With such a hostile environment, the only way I can see Wei Wuxian surviving within the Sect is while being forced into a Madam Lan-type situation. I find that prospect more reminiscent of a horror movie than a heartwarming fic about healing.
Luckily for us, we can safely say that canon Lan Wangji would not have done that! Due to certain childhood trauma, Lan Wangji definitely would not have forced Wei Wuxian to do anything, go anywhere, or stay anywhere that he didn’t want to. That isn’t even touching on how much Lan Wangji genuinely wanted Wei Wuxian to be happy, and forcing Wei Wuxian to do anything had generally been proven to not make him happy. Good on him!
The next point: why would Wei Wuxian have gone to Gusu in the first place? Even while ignoring WangXian’s rampant misunderstandings, Wei Wuxian always actively had a reason to not go to Gusu. During the Sunshot Campaign, he was a major player and commanded a huge amount of power that probably aided the Sects greatly. During his stay in the Burial Mounds, he had a community of war prisoners to protect. How could he go to Gusu?
I’ve seen fics where Lan Wangji ensured the safety of the Wen Remnants, and while I absolutely adore the trope, I really don’t see that happening with canon Lan Wangji. First, I don’t think he’d grown as a person enough to fully rebel against his Sect until Wei Wuxian was in immediate danger, and second, I straight up don’t think that he had the sway to. Pulling that kind of stunt implies a good deal of political power within the Sect...and also implies that Lan Wangji would have had enough power to escape a punishment which he clearly never thought he deserved. However, I could be wrong on this point! Politics has never been my forte. 
Also, I don’t think anyone can bank on the Lan Sect accepting the Wen Remnants. After all, the Lan Sect participated in the First Siege of the Burial Mounds and thus, presumably, also the slaughter of the Wen Remnants.
Upon further reflection, I figured that the only time Wei Wuxian might have actually gone to Gusu was that brief period of time after the Sunshot Campaign and before he met Wen Qing. However, for him to agree, I figured that three things had to happen:
Wei Wuxian had to understand that Lan Wangji wanted to help him, not hurt him.
Wei Wuxian had to come to the (false!) conclusion that Jiang Cheng no longer needed his help or support at Lotus Pier.
Wei Wuxian had to accept that he was worth saving in the first place.
(The concept came pre-set with some delicious Yunmeng Bros angst because Jiang Cheng would almost certainly take Wei Wuxian (permanently) going to Gusu the same way he took Wei Wuxian taking the Wen Remnants to the Burial Mounds: a betrayal, a promise broken. Emotionally, of course. There definitely wouldn’t have been political pressure closing in from all sides the way there was in canon.)
I was going to expand on that concept, but then I hit a bit of a hurdle: I genuinely did not, and still do not, see any reason for Wei Wuxian to actually go to Gusu. At that point, Wei Wuxian was doing everything he felt he needed to: he protected Jiang Cheng because Madam Yu told him to (and because he genuinely cared for him, but Madam Yu’s command was his driving force) and he only left Jiang Cheng when Wen Qing - someone he perceived himself owing a greater debt to due to the golden core removal - came along. When looking at it from that regard, I don’t think Wei Wuxian would ever see a reason to go to Gusu.
So, even after clearing up the miscommunication, Lan Wangji would have to present a good reason for Wei Wuxian to listen to him. 
I don’t think Lan Wangji going up to Wei Wuxian and saying, “Please come back to Gusu, I want to protect you,” would have worked. Considering how prideful Wei Wuxian was back then - with a good bit of it justified when you consider the fact that he killed a large amount of people in a single night during the Pledge Conference (though the exact number is never actually confirmed as far as I remember) - I don’t see Wei Wuxian taking the implication that he needs protection very well. No matter how many good intentions Lan Wangji had, he would have ended up offending Wei Wuxian at that point.
Another route Lan Wangji could have taken: “Please come back to Gusu, I want to play Cleansing for you.” Again, I don’t think this would have worked. (At least, that was definitely his stance in CQL and Wei Wuxian still didn’t do anything.) In Chapter 78, Wei Wuxian mentioned that the Sound of Lucidity had no effect on him. The Sound of Lucidity is, presumably, one of the Song(s) of Clarity, of which Cleansing is the most powerful. Lan Wangji used the Sound of Lucidity at the Pledge Conference after the battle had started. I don’t exactly know why he didn’t use Cleansing when it was more powerful... Either way, after he played the Sound of Lucidity, Wei Wuxian said, “You should’ve known since long ago—Sound of Lucidity is useless to me!” Thus, Lan Wangji asking him to go to Gusu so he could play Cleansing probably wouldn’t have seemed like an especially compelling reason to Wei Wuxian.
After some thought, I figured that post-resurrection, Wei Wuxian agreed to stay with Lan Wangji in the Cloud Recesses after the mystery was solved because:
He was not as prideful as pre-death Wei Wuxian.
He saw no reason to go back to Lotus Pier since Jiang Cheng made it very clear that he was unhappy with him.
He managed to process and confess his feeling to Lan Wangji, who did the same.
Pre-death Wei Wuxian has none of this. Basically, Wei Wuxian at that point had no reason to go to Gusu for anything other than a short visit.
Now, I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but this entire time I’ve been ignoring not only the reality that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s relationship pre-death was...very bad, but also something else very important: the Stygian Tiger Seal. 
The Stygian Tiger Seal was, of course, stupidly powerful, and Wei Wuxian only kept it because it would take too much time and energy to destroy, and it was meant to deter anyone from attacking him since he already knew that so many people were against him. One of his main fears was someone else - someone with impure motives - getting their hands on it, so of course he was paranoid wondering who would try to steal it from him. Lan Wangji asking him to go to a place where Wei Wuxian would be surrounded by people who hated his form of cultivation? Yeah, that didn’t sound that great. 
(Also, can we please take a moment to appreciate this excerpt from the novel: “The Stygian Tiger Seal’s powers were considerably greater than what he had imagined. He originally wanted to use it to assist him, but its powers were almost exceeding him, its creator” (Chapter 30). Almost. He said the Seal was not as powerful as him! The Stygian Tiger Seal was, indeed, strong, but he was more so! I see a lot of fanfics paint the Stygian Tiger Seal as what made him so terrifying and...it was certainly a part of it, but he did most of it on his own! Ah, we love terrifying main characters~)
Now, I’ve acknowledged the existence of WangXian’s miscommunication, but I’ve never actually addressed it. So, here it is: I do not think Lan Wangji confessing to Wei Wuxian (even before his stint in the Burial Mounds after the Bloodbath at Nevernight) would have gone well. In Chapter 2, there is this excerpt: “Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched. Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well.” This requires a bit of interpretation because it’s not exactly clear what Wei Wuxian’s eyebrow twitch means, but I’ve always interpreted it as annoyance - or even disgust - at the addition of “homosexual” to Mo Xuanyu’s profile. I’m not saying that Wei Wuxian was necessarily homophobic before the entire events of the novel, but I sincerely don’t think Wei Wuxian would have appreciated Lan Wangji - or any other man, for that matter - confessing to him. If even (immediate) post-resurrection Wei Wuxian had that attitude, I can imagine what would have gone through pre-death Wei Wuxian’s head. 
So, Sunshot Campaign, post-Sunshot Campaign, and Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian would all definitely not go back to Gusu, nor would they appreciate a confession from Lan Wangji. That leaves the question: what about pre-Sunshot Campaign Wei Wuxian?
Part Two: Why I really don’t think WangXian would have worked out pre-Sunshot Campaign.
From here on out, “Wei Ying, come back to Gusu!” is no longer relevant because, well, Lan Wangji never said it before the meeting in the supervisory office. (And I think I’ve made my point regarding that as well as I could.)
Starting with Cloud Recesses-era Wei Wuxian...I think that, out of all the different versions of Wei Wuxian, he would have been the one of the two most-likely to get together with Lan Wangji (pre-resurrection, of course). Even then, I don’t see that high a likelihood of that actually happening. Why? Repression! Fuck both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were so deeply repressed at that point! Lan Wangji was obviously more aware of his feelings, and Wei Wuxian...I don’t know, I haven’t read the novel far enough to actually have this be a legitimate interpretation, but looking at CQL, I don’t really think Wei Wuxian was in love with Lan Wangji at that point (but I don’t have much evidence to back that up other than my a-spec radar...).
And even if they did somehow manage to overcome their repression - and actually both had feelings for each other in the first place - they were still teenagers! Fifteen at the beginning, I’m pretty sure, and fifteen-year-olds are decidedly bad at maintaining any sort of relationship. That doesn’t even touch on the fact that WangXian was probably legitimately incompatible at that point. Lan Wangji still lived and breathed the rules and Wei Wuxian didn’t give a fuck about them. To maintain any sort of long-term relationship, they’d have to simultaneously undergo a whole novel of character development...which is doable! But! I don’t exactly see it as plausible.
Then, of course, Wei Wuxian got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses and WangXian didn’t see each other until two years later, at the Discussion Conference in Qishan. I don’t really see long-distance relationships working out very well in ancient China, so I can’t imagine them properly maintaining their relationship throughout that. And, of course, Lan Wangji’s rage after Wei Wuxian pulls his forehead ribbon was also due to his repression. Considering how short the Discussion Conference seemed to be, I don’t think there was much room for a relationship to develop. 
At the Indoctrination Camp, Lan Wangji had a whole swarm of things to worry about other than his (frankly painful) pining for Wei Wuxian so, again, I don’t see a romantic relationship developing at that point in time. 
A time-frame that I think can be uniquely isolated as a very possible place to develop their relationship would be while they were trapped in the cave with the Tortoise of Slaughter. Mostly before they killed the beast, though, since afterward, Wei Wuxian had too much of a fever for any romantic shenaniganry. My reasoning is that the cave was the first time since Wei Wuxian’s punishment in the Cloud Recesses that the two of them were forced to spend a long stretch of time together, and thus could potentially open up to each other. I remember in the anime that Lan Wangji sheds a few tears as he mentions that the Cloud Recesses had burned, that his brother was missing, and that his father was...dead? Severely injured? One of those two. He was back in business-mode pretty soon afterward, but if Lan Wangji could have been persuaded to open up a bit more by an persistent and concerned Wei Wuxian, I can see a slow confession being teased out of him - there was certainly enough time!
Then again, them getting together would only happen if Wei Wuxian were both comfortable with the idea of gay men and willing to accept that he was, in fact, attracted to Lan Wangji, and if Lan Wangji were willing to let go of the rules enough to be comfortable with Wei Wuxian’s naturally rebellious nature.
After that, WangXian doesn’t meet again until the supervisory office, and I’ve already talked about all of that.
In conclusion, “Come back to Gusu!” was sweet but misguided and WangXian wouldn’t have effectively happened pre-resurrection.
Now, what does that mean for you? ...Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. This doesn’t mean I’m forsaking all fics where WangXian gets together pre-resurrection (in fact, I absolutely love them!) and I’m definitely not trying to say that my interpretation is the only right one. I’m not trying to police what everyone thinks and decree that all fics where Wei Wuxian is open about liking men are wrong or any crap like that. Those fics are great and I love them! These are my (and @litescheme’s) thoughts on the matter that I (we) wanted to spill out into the greater world! You can agree, you can disagree, you can ignore me (us) entirely! But if you read through this meta, then I’m assuming that you found the concept interesting. That is all I was going for!
(Well, that and trying to thoroughly debunk the notion that Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian getting shoved into seclusion in the Jingshi by an apologetic Lan Wangji would be in any way “healing” or even “good” for Wei Wuxian, because honestly? Fuck that.)
Ahh, thanks for reading!
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