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attackonmyself · 4 years ago

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Beat the Heat--NSFW

Inspired by a prompt from @voltage-vixen‘s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge but took waaaaay too long for me to complete, and I missed the deadline. Anyways, thanks to @voltagesmutter, @passagesthroughpages, and Lia_Jones (all amazing writers themselves!) for all your help! Dedicated to all Victor stans, and my Discord family!

Please see this amazing artwork that inspired my fic!: https://m.sg.weibo.com/user/2173912080/4472175635540915

And also this Karma owned by MLQC:

Link on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654276

I sprinted into the LFG lobby, out of breath. I was late. Again.

Cindy spotted me, and quickly gestured towards the stairs. “He’s been waiting for you, go on up.” I groaned, still out of breath, then crossed the lobby. Great, I thought as I ran up the stairs. Another lecture on punctuality, coming right up. I stopped before the office door, taking a moment to catch my breath before knocking.

“Come in,” came the clipped reply. Even better, it sounded like he was already in a bad mood. This should be fun. I entered, closing the door behind me. Victor was sitting at his desk, skimming something on his computer. He looked up, removing his glasses and placing them next to his desk calendar. “It is 2:33.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

His normal poker face had been replaced with a scowl. “What time did I say to be here?”

“2:30.” It didn’t matter how close we had become, some things never changed. When at work, Victor was always in prime CEO mode, any trace of my shy and sweet boyfriend disappearing the moment he walked in the office doors.

“It seems your memory is indeed working today, despite all evidence to the contrary. So perhaps you like to explain why that was not the time you entered my office?” Being on the receiving end of a Victor-Li-is-irked glare was never a good experience, but unfortunately, that was often the position I found myself in.

“Our printer jammed at the last second, and wouldn’t print a contract that my 1:30 client needed to sign before they could leave, so I was stuck there calling maintenance and then waiting for them to show up, and then waiting for them to fix it, and then--”

“Stop. I’ve heard enough.” He rubbed his temples, eyes closed. “You do realize this is the modern era, yes? Contracts can be sent over email, and signed digitally. We will need to discuss your company’s disturbing lack of adaptation to current technology at another time; you have wasted enough of it already. Begin your report.”

“Right.” I pulled out my newly purchased tablet and cleared my throat. “As you can see, we exceeded our predicted revenue this month. Views that we lost last week were not just recovered, but doubled.” I fidgeted a bit under his intense stare.

“I implemented the ideas we discussed last week, and they were successful For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention--”

The soft whirring of the air conditioning of the building sputtered to a startling halt. I paused, and looked at Victor for direction. He sighed, and picked up the phone on his desk when it began to ring. “Speak.” I heard a hurried voice on the other end, and watched Victor’s frown deepen. “What?” More frantic explanation from the voice, trying to appease him, and then Victor hung up.

“Something wrong?” I asked, hoping that an urgent matter had come up, so that I could move my report to later when he would hopefully be in a better mood.

“The air conditioning stopped working. It will take a few hours to fix.” I groaned internally. It was the middle of July, peak season for hot days, and Victor’s office was directly in the sun’s path at the moment, the windows offering no protection from its heat. He shed his suit jacket, draping it over the arm of his chair. “Continue,” he commanded.

“Uh,” I scrambled to remember my place. “For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention trendlines predicting future revenue on episodes based on current events.” I began to sweat, already missing the almost too cold climate I had complained about in the past, and vowed to never do so again.

“Our most popular episodes to date have been ones related to current issues in the news. Our recent collaboration with Loveland TV gave us access to topics and resources that we might not have had otherwise. Therefore, I propose that we begin a new series to be aired in conjunction with local news stations beyond just Loveland TV that would cover oddities addressed in daily reports.”

Ok, the heat had officially become unbearable. I took off my white cardigan, putting in on top of my bag. Victor did a double-take, eyes widening. Uh oh. I forgot how casual my dress was. I tried to distract him with the report. “The series would cover not just super powers, but also delve into the psyche--”

“Stop, stop.” Crap. He was still staring at my dress. “What do you think you’re wearing?!”

“Uh, a sundress?” I responded dumbly. He glared at me. I fumbled for an excuse, though not knowing why I needed one exactly. “It’s the middle of July. I know it’s not formal business attire without the cardigan, but it’s hot in here without the AC. I thought you would understand that and be ok with me not wearing it considering the circumstances.”

He gaped, apparently shocked. “You thought wrong. Do you seriously not realize how alluring that dress is?”

Wait what? “Huh?”

He shook his head. “Dummy, you are astoundingly naive sometimes. Wearing that to any presentation, including this one, leads the audience to focus not on your proposal, but your physical assets.” I blushed, and covered myself a bit with my arms. He continued. “For example, I missed everything you presented after taking off your cardigan. Be thankful this was only a weekly report meeting, and not an official proposal for more funding with the entire board present.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk.

I looked down, ashamed. “I really am sorry, Victor. That would have embarrassed both Miracle Company and you; I understand now and I will do better in the future.”

“No, you misunderstand me.” He stood, and strode quickly towards me, crossing the room in a few broad steps. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. “The only person who should see you in outfits of this nature is me.” It was the hunger in his eyes that made me realize I was no longer talking to the CEO of LFG, but Victor Li, my protective and now aroused boyfriend.

Desperate lips met mine, taking my breath away. I was always weak for his kisses, this time literally. My knees gave in a bit, and I held onto his arms as he pushed deeper. I eagerly reciprocated, a need for his touch growing rapidly under my navel. We broke apart for only a moment, before he claimed my lips again and ran strong fingers up my neck and into my hair, gently nudging my face closer to his.

Victor was not a man of many flowery words, but he made up for it in his actions. Every kiss we shared was so fervent that you would think it was going to be our last. Even in moments of raw passion, it was obvious how deeply he cared for me, and I fell more in love with him each time our lips united. This kiss was no exception; I sank into his yearning for me, throwing my arms around his neck.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around my thighs, and I felt myself being lifted into the air. I scrambled to wind my legs around his waist, holding him tighter. We were intimately closer than before, and I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It amazed me that I could have such an effect on the seemingly stoic mogul, that I could be the one to break his cool. His lips captured mine once more, then he impatiently moved us towards his desk.

“Hold tight,” he instructed, using one arm to awkwardly clear off the desktop, sending pens and his mouse flying. He set me atop it, beginning to suck at the pulse point above my collarbone, when reality hit me.

“Wait, stop,” I whispered harshly. He immediately backed away, arms to his side.

“What’s wrong?” Concern overtook ardor, and he scanned my figure. “Did I hurt you?” That thought seemed to shake him a bit.

“No, nothing like that,” I quickly reassured him. “But...should we really be doing this in your office? People might hear, or worse, what if someone came in?”

His confidence immediately returned, desire resuming its place in his eyes as I mentioned others overhearing our stolen moment of passion. He smirked, leaning in close.

“Let them hear.” He continued his attack on my neck, but I wouldn’t be swayed just yet.

“Victor,” I chided. “I’m not comfortable with someone catching us in your office. That wouldn’t look good for either of us.” He stopped, judging my sincerity, then walked away.

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, reaching out an arm towards him needily, missing his warmth already. Had I angered him?

“Relax, dummy.” He strode up to the door and turned the lock, its satisfying click signaling his intentions. He turned and smiled devilishly. “No one is going anywhere until we are finished.”

He hastened back to me, as if I were his prey, strung up and waiting for him on a platter. He kissed me again, and loosened his tie to quell the sweltering heat. I grabbed for his shirt, undoing the first few buttons before he stopped me with a lick to a particularly sensitive area behind my earlobe. He undid his tie the rest of the way and set it down beside me on the desk. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it roughly. I gulped upon being met with the sight of his broad chest. As if controlled by some unknown force, my hands ran over his torso, brushing his collarbone and hips alike, searching for any point of contact with him.

He placed feather light kisses all over my face and neck, brushing my cheek; my eyelids; the small v formed by my collarbones. As lovely as his display of affection was--and it truly was; not often did we get a chance to bask in the other’s devotion--it wasn’t quite enough. I needed more.

I ran my hands down his abdomen, grabbing for his belt buckle, but he caught my hand in his and tsked.

“Someone needs to learn to be patient.” His hands left me, and I let out a whine. He picked up the flimsy piece of fabric that lay beside me and wrapped it around my face, covering my eyes.

“Is this okay?” I heard a soft whisper beside my left ear.

His breath tickled me a bit, paused in anticipation of my answer. I hold absolute control over him at this moment, I realized with a small gasp. The power was a heady feeling; Loveland’s most eligible ‘bachelor’ was all mine, treating me as if I was some queen to be worshipped. Although he was leading most of the action, I held the ropes. And I would be ever so careful not to abuse this gift. What’s more, after years of having to take care of myself on my own, I now could trust him. Completely.

“Yes.”

That one word spurred him back into action. He quickly fastened the makeshift blindfold behind my head, careful to avoid knotting my hair with it. I heard a low groan, and then my skirt was pushed up, warm hands rubbing slow circles on my inner thighs.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine, sending shivers down my spine. "There is nothing I would not do to keep you safe and happy."

I bucked my hips towards his, searching for any friction to relieve my need. Suddenly, I felt a hand over my underwear, massaging my clit leisurely. I let out a breathy moan. Finally. His steady fingers ran back and forth across the fabric, gentle yet firm in their ministrations. "Faster, please Victor," I gasped, spreading my legs. He obeyed, for once, going faster and faster until all fear of others intruding disappeared. I could only think about him, his touch, and my palpable desire to become one with him.

I could feel a flush rise in my cheeks, the sounds coming from my mouth garbled and brimming with pleasure. I reached blindly for him, needing to touch him for stability; so that I could hold off my climax a little longer, but was met only with air. I let out a whine. I heard a chuckle from somewhere in front of me. Seconds later, strong hands guided mine to his shoulders; his warm body moved closer, parting my legs further.

I was already beyond wet by this point, and I felt ready for him but knowing Victor, he wouldn't enter me until he was sure I was relaxed and ready for him. "Please, hurry up, I need you, now," I urged.

Surprisingly, he decided to grant my request. I heard the soft clink of a belt buckle being undone followed by a rustling of fabric. I hooked my ankles behind him, wanting, no, needing him in me as soon as humanly possible. A hand ran through my hair, and then my underwear was pushed to the side; in one fluid motion he had both lifted me into the air and entered me with a soft moan. I gasped, throwing my head back and digging my fingers into the well-defined muscles of his shoulders.

The sensation of him inside me was more intense in the dark. I felt so safe, protected and satisfied in his arms. It was as if all my fears and worries had melted away. I knew that he would shield me from any incoming darkness that dared to threaten me. He pulled back for a moment, then slowly slid inside me once more, giving me time to adjust and savor the feeling of us, united as one.

We maintained a comfortable rhythm, my hips grinding down to meet his as I panted against his neck. There was no need for words; anything that needed to be said was communicated through movement and small gasps and moans. I realized that I could no longer hear the ticking of the wall clock, its telling absence revealing that time was no longer in motion.

I drew in a breath to mention it, but he suddenly changed to a different angle, shifting me in his arms, and sparks burst behind my eyelids. “Don’t you dare stop, right--right there!” I practically screamed. He hummed in confirmation, building speed. I let out a series of whines, bouncing down into his thrusts in desperation to add to the surging, rising tide of pleasure that's only just out of reach. I could hear Victor’s pleasure as well in the short, cut off breaths he let out.

“Are you close,” he ground out, ever the gentleman in refusing to come before me.

“Very,” I replied, concentrating on my climax, adding a finger to my clit. A few more strokes, and it hit me--hard. I screamed out his name and clenched around him. He gasped, and I felt a warmth inside me as he tightened his grip on me. The waves of pleasure taking hold of me ebbed slowly; suddenly, I could see again, tie dropping to the floor.

Victor cradled me close and kissed the top of my head. We remained entangled in each other’s embrace for a few moments longer, catching our breath. He slid out of me, but didn’t let me go. I buried my face in his neck, flushing at the whispered “I love you” that came from beside my ear.

Suddenly, the ticking resumed and the space that was only ours returned to being shared with the rest of the world. I was gently set down on the desk, and I grabbed a tissue to clean myself up. We began to redress and had almost finished when there was a knock at the door.

“Sir, the mechanics from Four Seasons Heating and Air have arrived,” Goldman’s voice came from behind the solid wood. “Would you like to direct them or should I handle it?”

Victor gestured at my cardigan, “That goes on; tightly,” he said in a low voice, then he grabbed his suit jacket and approached the door. I buttoned it quickly, barely finishing in time before he swung the door open.

There was an awkward silence as Goldman took in our appearance. He did a quick double take, then stammered an apology. “Sir, I--uh--”

I flushed brightly; there was no way to conceal what we had been up to. Only Victor stood stoic as always, not caring about our disheveled state or the smudge of my lipstick on the corner of his mouth. “Mark me as booked for the next two hours,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “I expect the air conditioning to be up and running when I return.”

“Next two hours--but sir! You have the meeting with the investors from--” Goldman was cut off with a glare. Typical. I felt sorry for him.

“Did I ask for any feedback? I said that I am booked for the next two hours. Make any schedule changes necessary in my absence.” He put an arm around my waist and led me out of the room in the direction of the elevator.

“But sir!” Victor paid him no mind and as the door closed, he pulled me into another kiss.

“How do you feel about lunch at Souvenir?”

“Mm, sounds great!” I replied, smoothing down his slightly rumpled shirt. Oh! Pulling back with a smile, I suddenly laughed. “Victor!”

He frowned. “What.”

“You forgot your tie!”

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc victor smut #mlqc writing #my writing #this took way too long

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starkerforlife6969 · 5 years ago

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Howard buys Tony an Omega part 6 - Starker

Can be read an as independent! Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

I received an amazing list of prompts, and this is just one of them, but they were all so good you can probably expect the rest soon, you genius anon: tony is driving when he and peter are in an accident, cue tony's guilt and hovering

TW: car accident, mild references to injury, Tony feeling guilty, v mild angst, a/o dynamics

High off his summer graduation, high after the rush of his degree (top of his class, of course) Tony finally feels a little more settled come that Christmas.

He feels like an adult. He’s been working for his dad’s company since he finished college, but in the new year, he’s going to branch out. Start up his own tech place. Wow investors with the charisma that oozes out of his pores.

To kick off his new adulthood, a Christmas alone with his omega, nestled in their snowy cabin in Vermont, is the perfect bon voyage.

Speaking of, he lets his eyes drift from the icy road to Peter. The omega’s cuddled up on the passenger’s seat, feet tucked under himself, facing Tony (that adoring gaze leaves a warm mark on Tony’s cheek. Or well, it had, for the first few hours. Peter’s asleep now) and snug as a bug in Tony’s college sweatshirt.

Tony can’t wait to see Peter’s face as they drive up. He’s had the place decked out. There are gonna be lights everywhere, a huge Christmas tree- presents already wrapped, christmas crackers and a roast dinner already waiting for them.

He knows Peter loves to cook, but just this once, he’s going to have to make do with being lavished by other people.

Jingle Bell Rock is playing quietly on the radio- but the connection keeps getting cut out. Tony’s not surprised. This far into rural Vermont, the connection’s spotty. There’ll be premium wifi once they’re there, though.

His mother had tried to insist on them having Happy drive them, but Tony had shrugged her off. A road trip with his omega was the best early Christmas present. Stopping along diners for piled-high pancakes, stopping to take photos with state road signs- Peter’s face as gorgeous landscape after gorgeous landscape rolled by the window.

It’s been brilliant.

Tony’s never been this happy.

He doesn’t take his eyes from the road when they near the icier turns. He slows down, he shuts the radio off when the static between giddy up jingle horse gets to be too irritating.

It doesn’t stop it. A deceptive looking patch of snow covers a deep crack in the road, and his grip on the steering wheel isn’t quite strong enough.

There’s a horrible lurch, a bad feeling in his stomach-

And then it all happens so fast.

***

When he wakes up, silent night is crooning without a hitch on the radio, and his face is burning.

He lets out a strangled gasp when everything comes flooding back to him. He jerks and flails. He’s upside down- all the blood is in his head, and he scrabbles for purchase, he can’t see anything out of the windscreen but white snow.

He turns desperately and-

The passenger side is empty.

“Oh god,” he chokes, fumbling for his seatbelt and collapsing into a heap when gravity hauls him down. It takes a few frantic moments to right himself, but when he does, he crawls out of the passenger side door which has been flung open.

It’s freezing. A bone-chilling type of cold, and Tony gets to his feet- feeling dizzy, but, but otherwise okay, except not okay, because-

“Peter!” He yells, white puffs of ice hovering in the air after he speaks, “Peter! Baby, are you-” he turns wildly, and there, he spots his college sweatshirt and a tuft of honey hair.

It’s hard to sprint through the thick snow, but he does the best he can, dropping to his knees beside the fallen figure.

Tears burn as they slide down his face, and he carefully- gently- turns Peter over.

His omega is pale, snowflakes caught on his dark lashes, and there’s a small trickle of blood down the side of his face.

Agony lurches through Tony’s stomach. He wants to vomit, but instead, he cradles his omega as gently as he can, fingers shaking not from the cold, as they feel for Peter’s pulse.

“Sweetheart?” He croaks, voice pathetic, “Peter, baby, are you okay? Please, please, say something, I-”

There’s a pulse under Tony’s fingers. Not a weak, quiet thing, but strong and firm and consistent.

Relief swells within him.

“Peter,” he says again, more loudly, “Peter, Peter, wake up, darling, baby, please-”

There’s a gentle moan, and those amber eyes are revealed to him.

They’re unfocused, a little dizzy, but okay.

“Ton…” Peter slurs, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, “‘r you…”

“Don’t you dare worry about me.” Tony hisses through tears, reaching over to scoop Peter more firmly into his arms.

Fuck, this is all his fault. What kind of shitty alpha is he? They’re out here now- Peter’s so small, so cold, Tony holds him tight, looking around, thoughts racing.

In the distance, he hears a motor.

“Assistance has arrived.” The cool, automated voice of the car chimes, and Tony collapses, Peter in his arms, and thanks the sky that Elon Musk designed his car.

***

Peter dips a chicken leg in gravy and takes a huge bite of the delicious, crispy skin.

Tony watches him like a hawk, pushing another bowl of stuffing towards him.

His omega shoots him a gorgeous, lopsided smile. “Alpha,” he giggles, even as he takes a spoonful, “you eat!”

Tony doesn’t want to eat. He reaches over the table, cups the back of his boy’s head and kisses his shiny, buttery lips. “I want you to eat.” He murmurs, giving Peter more mashed potatoes.

His omega looks up at him with curious, clever eyes, but doesn’t ask again.

He can sense it, probably, the fear and worry radiating off of Tony in waves. Peter’s always been very good like that.

Tony doesn’t want to eat. He has no appetite. He had no appetite when he’d batted away the hands of the paramedics who’d tried to tend to his non-existent wounds. He sent them to Peter- his Peter, who he hasn’t taken his eyes off since it happened. His perfect Peter sitting perched in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a silver blanket, torch shining in his eyes.

“You guys are just fine,” the paramedic had told Tony warmly, dropping them both off at the cabin, where a number of attendants were anxiously awaiting them.

Tony had glared at him. “I don’t want Peter to just be fine,” he’d snarled, “I want him to be perfect.”

“He’s going to be okay, son,” the man had promised, “just a little rest and warm food, I promise.”

The cut on Peter’s head, nestled in those curls, has only needed butterfly stitches. A small nick. Head wounds always bleed a lot, Tony knows that, but still.

A long hot bath, some fluffy, non-snow logged clothes, and here they were.

Peter, eating an enormous roast for two, all by himself.

Tony pours him more juice.

It makes him feel better inside. Warmer than the new sweater and sweatpants and fuzzy socks. He feels warmer seeing Peter with chicken between his teeth- starlight in his eyes.

His boy drinks the juice even though Tony doesn’t think he’s thirsty.

He keeps eating until Tony finally stops offering him food.

“Okay, baby,” Tony murmurs, moving round the table to hoist his omega into his arms and carry him over to the couch by the fire. “I’ll get you some dessert. I had them make fondant, your favourite. How’s that? Hm? With some hot chocolate and marshmallows and whipped cream? And chocolate shavings, of course, and- you like sprinkles, don’t you? My little rainbow omega.”

Peter sits where Tony’s perched him amidst the cushions on the couch, and reaches up, clutching his alpha’s large hand in his two smaller ones.

“Alpha,” Peter pouts, a warm blush across his cheeks, “‘m really not hungry. Just want you.”

Tony chews on the inside of his mouth. “Just some fondant then,”

Peter laughs, and pulls him down onto the couch.

Well, he tries, bless him, and Tony flops down onto it anyway, drawing the boy into his arms.

Peter snuggles into him, peppers kisses all across his face. “I’m okay,” Peter whispers, not for the first time this evening. “Really I am.”

“You could’ve been so hurt,” Tony splutters out, turning his head away from Peter’s affections. He doesn’t deserve them.

His omega won’t let him wrangle away that easily. Sits on his lap and keeps kissing him. “You saved me. Good alpha.” The boy chirps, pressing a kiss onto Tony’s left eyebrow.

Tony hugs him tight, breathing him in. “I fuckin’ love you, Pete.” He whispers, “if something happened to you, I’d just-”

“I’m here,” Peter promises, sinking into Tony’s embrace. “I’d never leave you. I promise.”

***

In the morning, Tony wakes up to a full english, and Peter’s expectant eyes.

He has to sit in bed and eat every last bite, not that it’s a hardship, he’s starving and Peter’s the best cook he knows.

He tries to bite down on his hovering, on his urge to smother Peter with affection, to not let him out of arm’s reach, and he tries his best to smile. “What’s on for today then, gorgeous? We can do anything you like. Sledging? Go to the little market place in town?”

Peter moves the breakfast tray and snuggles up beside him in bed. “Just stay here?” He asks, finding his place cuddled on Tony’s chest. “Watch movies.”

A whole day with Peter B Parker in his arms?

“That sounds perfect, baby,” Tony mumbles, his relief palpable, holding him close. Goddamn, Peter can see right through him.

He can feel Peter’s smile through his shirt. “Maybe some fondant later?” Comes the sweet voice, lilt hopeful.

Tony laughs at that, full bodied and surprised, “how about a whole fucking fondant? How about three?”

Peter whoops and Tony tickles him till the sheets are a mess and the Grinch is wrapping Cindy Lou Who up as a present.

Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

#starker #peter x tony #howard buys tony an omega #part 6 #omega peter #alpha tony #rich tony #simple omega peter #established relationship #hurt comfort #happy ending #mild angst #christmas feels #fluff #precious peter parker #tony stark has a heart #protective tony stark #car accidents #mild injury

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kumeko · 5 years ago

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Title: highly improper

A/N: For scientias for the FFXV Secret Santa! I saw the Merlin AU prompt and this just jumped from my hands! XD I didn’t expect to write this much! Originally I was going to put Luna in too but I couldn’t make her fit.

…

Ignis stood on his tippy toes, his arms hanging onto the crib bars tightly as he peered down at the baby sleeping inside. Deep asleep, the baby lay flat on his back, his limbs splayed as he dreamt. Wisps of black hair crowned his head and Ignis tried to imagine the King’s golden crown on this tiny head.

“Watching the baby again, Ignis?” King Regis softly stepped inside, quietly approaching them. His footsteps were muffled on the plush carpet. Looking down in the crib, he pulled the blanket tighter around the little prince with a smile. “Finally asleep, I see.”

“He stopped crying an hour ago,” Ignis dutifully reported, untangling his arms. He quickly bowed to the king. “Sire.”

“I see.” The king’s brow knit, his expression darkening slightly. “He’ll need all the rest he can get. His destiny is a heavy one. The gods have tasked him with saving our kingdom, our world.”

Ignis’s eyes widened. Noctis’s hands could barely wrap around Ignis’s finger, and they were expected to not only rule a kingdom, but also save the world? “Really?”

“Really.” Regis crouched down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “When that times comes, he’ll need a companion. Will you be there for him?”

“Of course,” Ignis chirped, no doubts in his mind. If he could help his father, help his king, help the prince, he’d do in a heartbeat. He glanced at the prince between the bars, at his chubby red cheeks and tiny fists.

Noctis would save the world one day.

Ignis just had to make sure he got there.

ii.

“Your highness, it’s morning,” Ignis announced, entering Noctis’s chambers. He closed the heavy wooden door behind him when it was apparent that the prince hadn’t awoken yet. As usual. There were many ways to describe Noctis but an early riser was not one of them. Clicking his tongue, Ignis drew open the thick curtains, flooding the room with the bright morning light. “Wake up.”

Noctis groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

“Zero more minutes,” Ignis corrected, rubbing his forehead tiredly. They played this game every day and he didn’t know who the bigger fool was—Noctis for thinking it’d work, or Ignis for expecting him to change. “You have jousting and sword practice this morning, before we take a tour of the guards. You barely have time for breakfast, let alone sleeping in.”

“One more minute,” Noctis recanted, as though that made much of a difference. The blankets tangled around his legs as he burrowed deeper into his pillows.

“Zero means zero, your highness.” With a sigh, Ignis stepped forward and yanked the bedsheets off. The usual pattern it was, then.

Noctis shivered as the chilly air hit him. “It’s so cold!” Languidly, he stretched his arms above his head as he slowly sat up. “Do I issue the orders or you?” he complained, his tone belligerent.

“I am waking you up,” Ignis pointed out, rolling his eyes as he opened Noctis’s drawers. Selecting a fine woolen tunic and matching pants, he laid them down on the bed. “You slept a good two hours longer than I did, sire.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Noctis sighed, balefully glaring up at him.

“Sire, if you continue to look at me like that, I will call Prompto to wake you up. Or maybe Gladiolus would do?” Ignis crossed his arms, raising his brow. In this room, in the familiarity of their years, he could get away with little challenges like this.

“No, no, I’m good.” Noctis sat up immediately, giving up the jig. Ignis wasn’t sure which of the two scared Noctis more—Prompto’s overenthusiasm or Gladiolus no-nonsense attitude. He slipped off the bed, his hands on his back as he stretched backwards until a soft crack was heard. “So, what’d you say was first? Jousting?”

“Yes, you’ve missed the last two practices so Gladiolus will be a little…aggressive,” Ignis explained.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Noctis winced, spreading his arms out.

“Very lightly,” Ignis agreed, taking a deep breath before he pulled off Noctis’s shirt. He could do this. He could—the sight of Noctis’s chest, his pale skin bathed in the sunlight, made his mouth go dry. His heart beat so hard, he wasn’t sure how Noctis couldn’t hear it. Swallowing, he turned away as he folded Noctis’s shirt. It was okay, he just had to put the new shirt on. He had this.

“I’m going to get so bruised.” Noctis shuddered. “Make sure the creams are ready, I’m going to need them.”

“Y-yes.” He could feel his smile strain. Creams meant rubbing them on meant touching Noctis—

This had been so much easier when they were children.

iii.

“HIYAAAH,” Gladiolus roared, his mount charging down the field like an angry boar. His horse was already a monster at eighteen hands. With Gladiolus’s bulk added on top of it, it was like watching a titan attack a fly.

A fly that also happened to be the prince.

Noctis swung his lance but it was too late. He grunted as he took the full brunt of the attack, falling hard onto the ground.

“Your Highness!” Ignis ran up the field. They were wearing armour and the lances were wood, but either way that had to hurt. Crouching next to Noctis, he quickly helped his liege into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

“No,” grunted Noctis, a scowl on his face as he yanked off his helmet. He glared at Gladiolus. “You could go a little easier, you know.”

“Then you would never learn, your highness,” Gladiolus answered cockily, and perhaps it was a good thing they had all known each other since childhood. Any other noble would have had his head for the way he acted. “Now, get back on your horse.”

“So you can murder me?” grumbled Noctis. Despite his frown, he slowly pushed himself off the ground.

“Wait!” Ignis grabbed one of Noctis’s arms. “Are you sure you want do this? You could be hurt. You might already be hurt. Maybe we should check with—”

“Worrywart.” Noctis’s frown melted into an exasperated smile and he shook his head. “This happens every day, you don’t need to be so worried all the time. Nothing’s broken, just a few bruises. I wish he’d hold back a little.”

“Me too,” Ignis muttered, biting his lip. Worry welled within nonetheless, a fear that Noctis’s smile couldn’t erase.

Noctis smirked over his shoulder at his knight. “Besides, we can’t keep Gladdy waiting.”

Astride his horse, Gladiolus lifted his visor. Even from here, Ignis felt a shiver run up his spine from the cold look he shot them. “You’ve been spending time with Iris.”

“...it is better to deny that,” Ignis whispered.

“It’s not like he can kill me,” Noctis retorted quietly.

He shook his head. “There are some things worse than death.”

iv.

“Again?” Cindy lifted the heavy plates of armour with ease, giving a low whistle as she inspected the dents and cracks. She frowned as her finger traced a particularly ragged line, a frown that grew deeper as she realized just how much damage Noctis’s armour had gone through. Poking her head over it, she glared at Ignis. “Really? Do you know how much work I put in this?”

“I do, and I am sorry again that we have to take so much of your time.” Ignis rubbed his neck awkwardly, feeling flustered under her angry gaze. No matter how many times he’d faced it, it never got easier, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that her grandpa had retired, leaving the castle smithy to her. At least there was one less glare at him.

“I just repaired it two days ago!” She set the armour down on her work bench. Crossing her arms, she turned back to him. “What’re you doing, beating it with a hammer? Fighting in a war? I’ll have you know none of the other guards, knights, or nobles give me half as much trouble as the prince.”

Because none of them are trained by Gladiolus, Ignis almost retorted. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and offered a sympathetic smile. “Your work is exceptional, which is why the prince knows he can trust this matter to you.”

“The prince knows I can’t refuse, otherwise I would have stopped taking any work from him.” Cindy sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know why I try with his things, I just know it’ll get destroyed.”

Sensing her crack, Ignis walked next to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Your work is exemplary and should be the example for any blacksmith.”

“Yeah, yeah, just buttering me up.” She grinned anyways. Grabbing a pair of ash-covered gloves, she glanced at Ignis. “Do you give this sweet talk to the prince too?”

Ignis replied with an elegant, “Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t have eyes?” Cindy snorted, pulling out her hammers as she set up her work bench. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How he looks at you.”

“Why I never!” Ignis protested, his cheeks burning at the insinuation. The absolutely false, definitely not true accusation.

Cindy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t—”

“I definitely haven’t,” Ignis confirmed quickly, wanting to squash this idea before it found purchase. And definitely before anyone else heard it.

“I see.” She grinned impishly and he had seen that expression on Prompto’s face too many times before to know where this was going. He should never have introduced her to the stable boy. “Well, if you say so.”

Sensing a trap, he scrutinized her warily. “I do.”

“Well, he is a prince after all.” She shrugged, still smiling slyly. “It’d be improper to act rashly.”

“It’d be improper, period,” Ignis corrected her firmly.

“Which is why you’re waiting for the perfect, romantic moment,” Cindy continued, not hearing him at all.

“I’m not!” Ignis growled.

Cindy laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

Noctis glanced over his shoulder, his hands loose on the reins of his steed. “It’s strange. I keep expecting to see someone behind us.”

Ignis looked over his shoulder as well. Behind them, the forest path was completely empty for once. There were no signs of the usual guards, no cloaked knights on vigilant alert as they sat tall on their horses. It even sounded quieter than normal, without the extra whickers from other horses. “Me too, your highness. Though we are still within the castle’s forest, so it should be safe enough here.”

“No, that’s not what I…” Noctis ran a hand through his hair, before giving a shy smile. “I just meant, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. Without actually having to worry about work or lessons or anything.”

“Oh.” Ignis flushed lightly as he realised that they were alone. Truly alone. No servants in the next room, no guards in the shadows, nothing. Not even the prying eyes of villagers. “You’re right, it has been a while. Not since we were children, I believe, your highness.”

“Forever, basically. And, just call me Noctis.” When Ignis opened his mouth to protest, Noctis shook his head. “It’s fine, we’re alone.”

That didn’t make it fine, not in the least. They were still prince and attendant, still divided by an invisible barrier that remained in place no matter who was there. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from uttering, “Noctis.”

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled whole-heartedly, his eyes crinkling just so, and Ignis stared, transfixed. “Just like that. I kinda miss when we were kids—you used to be less formal.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Slightly less formal.”

“A problem I have thoroughly corrected,” Ignis finally replied, regaining his voice. His heart was in his throat and it was hard to keep his voice calm, to keep himself collected. He forced his eyes way and stare at the path ahead instead. At least his mount kept a steady pace, trotting along without any realizations of the issues his rider was having.

“It wasn’t a problem. I liked it better that way.” Noctis leaned back slightly, staring up at trees. His bangs covered his eyes and his next words were careful. “We were…closer then.”

Ignis peeked at him from the corner of his eyes, unable to read his liege’s expression. “We grew up, as children are wont to do.”

“I guess.” Noctis looked down at his hands for a long moment. The only sound was the steady clip-clop of their horses as they traversed the dirt path. A deep breath and he stood up straight, his jaw set. Pulling his horse to a stop, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Pressing his right leg, Ignis guided his horse to turn around and ride back to Noctis. Stopping next to him, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“This. All of this.” Noctis shook his head once more. “We…we don’t have to grow apart.” As he spoke, his hand reached out, his fingers almost brushing Ignis’s hand. “I don’t want that, I want us to—”

It had been easier, when they were children. When Ignis could touch and be touched by Noctis and think nothing of it. When he could watch Noctis get hurt and think only of his improvement, when he could spend long hours helping with paperwork and not feel the small gap between their shoulders as though it were a physical presence.

But they weren’t children, not anymore, and Ignis could only see the possibilities in that potential touch, the torrent of words within him just waiting to pour out. His heart was in his throat, full and ready to speak, but he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

It was almost reflexive, his flinch. His draw back. Ignis pulled away, just out of reach.

Noctis stared at him, shocked. His eyes widened, hurt crossing his face, his fingers still hovering where Ignis’s used to be.

Immediately, Ignis realized he’d made the wrong move. “Noctis…”

“Fine.” Noctis’s fingers curled into a fist, his brow narrowed. With a click of his tongue, he urged his horse into a gallop, leaving Ignis behind in the dust.

vii.

“So this is where you’re sulking!” Pitchfork hanging off his shoulder, Prompto entered the box stall. The door closed behind with a click and he cocked his head. “I think the prince’s horse is all cleaned now.”

“I’m not sulking,” Ignis retorted, barely sparing the brazen interloper a glance before returning to Noctis’s black stallion, Regalia. A brush in hand, he firmly stroked the mount’s side. “And I need to just finish checking his hooves.”

“I swear you go overboard on everything.” Prompto rolled his eyes, setting his pitchfork on the ground. He crossed his arms over the handle and rested his chin on his arms. “And you are totally sulking.”

“I’m not,” Ignis snapped back, shooting him a dirty glare. “Don’t you have more important matters to attend? Your job? These stables are in need of cleaning.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me.” Prompto pouted, his cheeks puffed and lip jutted out. “Is it because you and Noctis fought?”

“Your highness,” Ignis corrected automatically, they’d had this argument too many times before. Registering what Prompto said, he froze. “What makes you think we fought?”

“The way he’s trashing Gladdy?” Prompto gave a playful grin. “And so it was a fight?”

“I…I didn’t…” Ignis slumped his shoulders. “Is he that angry?”

“Hmmm…” Prompto tapped his chin, considering it. “Well, Gladiolus did say he’d never seen Noctis so aggressive before. And Noctis kinda just glared at me when I brought up your name. So. There’s that.”

Ignis closed his eyes. Well, he did deserve this, rebuking the prince like that. He didn’t even let the prince finish speaking before reacting, it could have just been something ordinary, like a renewal of friendship. “I didn’t intend for this.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Prompto softened. Setting the pitchfork to the side, he approached Ignis and squeezed his shoulder. “You always mean well. Sometimes too well.”

“It’s just…” Ignis stared at the black hide of Regalia, as though the answers could be found in the whirls of his hair. “I want to make sure he’s happy. Always. To help him with his duties and try to ease the burden he has.”

And to keep these feelings of his sealed away, forever.

“I know you do. You’ve always put him first. But,” Prompto asked thoughtfully, peering up at him. “You know, he always seems happiest with you. Have you ever thought of that?”

viii.

The evening breeze was chilly and Ignis shivered as he nudged open the doors to the rooftop. On the western tower, there was no night-watch or prying eyes. Only the roosting pigeons knew of what transpired here, their coos filling the air as Ignis stepped out onto the exposed roof.

Ahead of him was Noctis, sitting on the bench they’d set up when they were children. A secret base, as the prince liked to call it. A place where he could be alone. He’d often come here when he was angry or sad. All of which meant that Prompto hadn’t been teasing earlier. Or at least, only teasing.

Saying nothing, Ignis walked forward carefully, a small tray in his hands. The heat from Noctis’s favourite soup wafted up to his nose and he was glad that the food was keeping warm. “Your highness.”

Noctis didn’t say anything, his back rigid, his eyes staring straight ahead as the sun slowly set.

Ignis hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he quickly said, “Noctis.” His ears burned.

At that, Noctis turned his head, acknowledging his presence. He still didn’t say anything but he moved to the side, making room on the bench for him. Grateful, Ignis sat down next to him, setting down the tray on the space next to him. He folded his hands on his lap. Noctis softly inhaled, exhaled, a sound as familiar as Ignis’s own heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

Noctis didn’t reply.

“I…” Ignis couldn’t say why he really pulled away. Couldn’t break this fragile thing between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Softly, Noctis sighed. He rested his forehead on his hand, his head angled slightly to look up at Ignis. “I know. You never do.” His expression was still dark. “It’s just…I…” Gritting his teeth, he curled into himself. “Never mind, just…just forget about what I did.”

“Never.” Ignis shook his head. Noctis had never looked so small before. So vulnerable. And it was all because of him and his inability to keep his feelings in check. “I also miss how close we used to be. It’s just…our positions…you’re the prince and I…”

“Is that it?” Noctis sat up and leaned close, too close. Ignis barely had time to register his presence before Noctis’s hands were on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Is that all that’s stopping you?”

“Noctis?” Ignis glanced nervously at the door. If anyone found them in such a compromising situation…heads would roll. His own, possibly.

“Is that all?” Noctis repeated, unconcerned.

“It’s a big thing,” Ignis protested. “You’re the heir to the throne. I’m a commoner.”

“You’re right, I’m the heir to the throne.” Noctis leaned closer and Ignis could see his long eyelashes, the flecks of grey in his eyes. His hands shook slightly. “So who can tell me that this is wrong?” The gap between their bodies, their lips, was so small. Ignis could feel Noctis’s heat radiating onto his skip, feel his breath on his face. “Who can tell me not to love you?”

Love? Ignis’s mind went blank. Noctis closed the gap, kissing him hungrily and any thoughts he still had disappeared entirely. All he could feel was Noctis, his hands digging into Ignis’s back as he held him tight, deepening the kiss. And god, his lips were soft, so soft, just as he’d imagined for years, and his arms were strong and—

And he was kissing the prince. Ignis pulled back in a panic. “Your highness!”

“Noctis,” Noctis admonished, a small pout on his face. “What’s wrong now?”

“I…you…this is highly improper!” Ignis blushed a furious red.

“I thought…” Noctis turned red himself, retracting quickly. Realization dawned on his face. “This…you didn’t mean…” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god.”

“No, I did—I mean, I didn’t…” Ignis took a deep breath, trying to regain some measure of coherence. “You like me.”

Head still buried in his hands, Noctis nodded.

“Oh.” Ignis felt his skin burn even hotter, his heart doing funny things inside his chest. Noctis loved him too. This wasn’t a one-sided pining. Not now, at least.

Suddenly, he understood Noctis’s reaction when they were horse riding. He’d taken it as a rejection. Resting a hand on Noctis’s back, his other hand pried Noctis out of hiding and gently pulled him up into a seated position. “Me too,” he admitted. “I like you too.”

Noctis blinked, confused. “Then…”

“I…” Ignis touched his lips with a hand. “That was…” He smiled, pleased for a moment, before remembering himself. Remembering who they were. “That was improper.”

Noctis frowned. “Ignis, I’m the prince. I’ll decide what’s improper or not.”

“But—”

“I love you, but sometimes you talk entirely too much.” Noctis wrapped an arm around Ignis, the other hand tangled in his hair. “Do you love me?”

There was no where to turn, to hide. “Yes,” Ignis admitted, unable to lie when Noctis was staring at him so intensely.

“Good, that’s all I need.” Noctis smiled brightly and leaned forward to kiss him again.

In the part of Ignis’s brain that was still functioning, he hoped he’d remembered to lock the door.

#ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #ignoct #noctnis #ffxv #ff15 #gladiolus amiticia #prompto argentum #cindy aurum #fanfic #i like playing with the merlin au #and this thing turned into a monster #ahahah

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radwolf76 · 5 years ago

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FLASHBack: Week 45 - Spooky Scary Skeletons / Oh Oh Oh Sexy Vampire

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ultralorenzoblr-blog · 5 years ago

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woman arrested for attempting to stab son

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goodproofingwater · 6 years ago

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“What did you just say?” prompt for V to say to Andy

Send me prompts for literally any character to help me lift my writer’s block

Long nights in the studio or gigging had brought out the worst in all of them, particularly Andy who was doing his best to stay clean amongst a world which offered him everything on a platter more so than usual. He had been used to being able to get hold of drugs easily, but his management had learned very quickly about his tastes and had therefore ensured that every session in the studio was accompanied by a few lines. Part of him wanted to thank them for this, as if he hadn’t been building up his tolerance over the last few weeks then his overdose would have killed him, but it was hard to thank them when they so obviously wanted him back on the drugs.

Phone calls with Cindy had been painful as he tried to get sober, and he had just about managed to calm them on the evening that he came back to his flat and found Victoria passed out on the couch. The half-empty mug on the coffee table told the redhead that she had come up to make hot chocolate to help her sleep after what he imagined was as hectic a day for her as it was for him, and it had worked all too well. The TV remained on, blasting out one of those late night gambling shows which he imagined had started out as an episode of friends and he couldn’t help but smile at the way her hair had splayed over her face. She had obviously been asleep here for a while, and he didn’t blame Josh for not noticing that she had been gone. If Victoria was this tired he imagined that the rest of them were worse. She had always been the one with the most energy, hence needing hot chocolate to send her to sleep.

He took off his jacket and moved to slip his arms beneath her, one supporting her head as the other slipped under her knees. He had expected his muscles to cry out at the exertion, but she was light and to be so close to her was enough of an analgesic. It had been too long since he had been allowed to hold her, and while he knew that this was only temporary he could feel his heart race as it had done to spike the ECG in the hospital.

He moved carefully down the stairs, brow furrowing as he decided on her room over Josh’s. He smiled as he saw his friend passed out in bed in the clothes that he had worn that day, and he gently lay Victoria down on her side of the bed. He was playing with fire as he squatted down next to her, pushing her hair from her eyes and holding her face momentarily.

“God, you’re so beautiful… how am I ever gonna find anyone like you huh?”

He felt a chill run through his body as her eyes flickered open, his hand moving quickly from her and he swallowed thickly.

“Wh-what did you say?” She croaked, blinking as she looked around at her room in confusion.

“I–” He started, clearing his throat softly, “You fell asleep upstairs so I carried you down here.”

“Oh..” She smiled, taking his hand and squeezing softly, “Thanks babe…”

Soft snores left her lips as she fell back to sleep again, and he pulled the covers over her softly, thinking twice about kissing her forehead as he left to go to his room.

#i AM HURTING AHUFDFJHNJFG #wildfire records #ask meme #hustlepuff

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paopukairi · 6 years ago

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Forever and Always, My King

@ravus-week Day 4 Ravus Week

Prompts: Devotion ~ King!Ravus ~ Ravus and Luna escaped to Insomnia with Noctis and Regis

Rating: Teen

Characters: Ravus Nox Fleuret and Bellatrix Lucis Caelum (female oc)

Pairing: Ravus x Fem!OC

Words: 1805

Warnings: Mention of scars from self-harm

The King of Tenebrae gazed at the outfit he was to wear for his wedding in the bedroom he shared with his fiancée. Ravus was sitting by a white glass table where a tray of white and gold fine porcelain tea set sat, with 2 cups filled with Sylleblossom tea set out for him and another. He wore a casual light blue shirt, dark blue trousers and brown shoes with his hair left out and his beard neatly trimmed.

The groom’s wedding attire consisted of a long, high collared white frock coat, with intricate embroidery of flowers of silver thread around the neckline all the way down to the opening of his coat, the House Fleuret’s crest on his left breast pocket. The back of his coat looked like it would end at the back of his knees, where the front would be tucked into a pair of white fitted trousers. Under his coat he would wear a satin light purple dress shirt and he was intended to wear a lovely pair of white shoes. Cindy and Cid were working on creating a prosthetic arm for the wedding and he had already burned of his Magitek arm after the battle for the dawn was won.

A woman entered the bedroom carrying a silver tray. She wore a gold sequin short sleeved shirt with a v-neckline, black midi skirt, gold sandals with heels with a simple gold choker; she still respected and wore the colours of her family proudly even in Tenebrae. On the tray was a small Ulwaat berry cake decorated with white buttercream icing and 2 plates with a small knife and 2 spoons on the side. She had prepared this cake for the King herself knowing that he loved the dessert, fully aware that this was his childhood favourite.

The young woman was Bellatrix Lucis Caelum, younger sister of Noctis by 2 years and daughter of King Regis. The 5ft 3in Princess had fair skin with a golden undertone, an oval shaped face, with a chiselled jawline and high cheekbones, sharp almond shaped dark olive green eyes, rosy full lips, black waist length straight hair and a curvaceous body with toned legs and arms. She once had a baby face with such brightness in her innocent eyes, but now the windows of her soul held so much wisdom and endurance.

But with time and pain, she had aged well, by the grace of the Divine. The scars on her body she had gotten from fighting against General Glauca while protecting Ravus, as well as the many other scars on her wrists were still present yet dried up. The horizontal scar she had on her left cheekbone from Caligo at the signing ceremony was also healed, but the vertical scar she had gotten from fighting Ardyn was still a dark red. Her brother would tease her now that her laughing lines were more noticeable, telling her that she had gotten wrinkles even though she hadn’t turned 30 yet. But Bella didn’t mind the teasing, the 18 year old her would but she found her wrinkles, scars, stretchmarks beautiful because Ravus thought she was beautiful no matter what she looked like.

She grew up alongside Ravus and the late Lunafreya after her father helped them escape Tenebrae 22 years ago. Both children from House Fleuret grew close to the young Prince and Princess, though Ravus would be very protective of his sister. Though Ravus was 10 years older than she was, Bella admired him greatly as a friend. After the death of her father and during the destruction of Insomnia, together Ravus and Bella escaped the city, after helping the citizens escape too. Throughout the journey, they both fell in love with each other as expected from them both since they were so close as friends and greatly admired and respected one another. They both knew their siblings were arranged to get married, but no one would have imagined the Prince of Tenebrae and the Princess of Lucis falling in love. Even after her brother went into the Crystal, Ravus stayed by her side in Lucis to help train and fight alongside the Glaives against daemons.

Now that the dawn has returned to the world, they decided to ask Noctis for his blessing that they would marry. Though very overprotective, he couldn’t say no to his sister’s happiness. In a way both Lucis and Tenebrae were unified, not by the marriage of Noctis and Luna but by Bellatrix and Ravus; bittersweet fate Ignis called it.

The Princess walked towards him, sitting down beside him and placing the tray onto the table, whilst placing her hands on his. He looked at her and her mouth curved into a smile; that smile which never seemed to change, one which was as bright as dawn itself. The corners of his mouth quirked up too as he held her hands which looked small against his. Though his hand was rough, she admired it and loved holding his hand. She loved everything about him, his mismatched eyes, the lines which formed when he laughed or smiled, the freckles on his cheeks which reminded her of starry constellations, even the burn marks from where the Ring of Lucii burnt him and the scars on his wrist. She would always love them and place gentle kisses on them whenever she could.

He looked down at her hands seeing she was wearing the rings which belonged to her mother and her would have been mother in law. Bella wore her mother’s ring on her right wedding finger, the ring looked a lot like the Ring of Lucii but the crystal was from an asteroid which fell from the starry heavens when the late Regis and Aulea were on a date. The ring she wore on her left wedding finger was a white gold diamond round halo ring with a single blue sapphire in the middle, which Ravus proposed to her 6 months ago on one of the many hills in Tenebrae which was covered in Sylleblossoms. This ring belonged to the late Sylva Via Fleuret and he felt it was the best way to honour her memory by giving it to the other woman he loved the most.

“You’re going to look more handsome than you already are in that outfit, Ravy.” She stated in her soft harmonious voice. His eyes twinkled at the mention of his nickname which only Bella would use to address him as blood rushed to his pale cheeks. “I can’t even call you Prince Charming anymore. King Charming would have to do.” She winked and he chuckled.

“I cannot believe you still call me that after 20 years.” He replied.

“Well it is true.” Bella said in a sing song tone of voice. “Now, I made your favourite cake.” His mismatched orbs sparkled when he saw the cake on the tray and she had cut them both a slice, though his was much bigger.

“You still remember.” Ravus sighed.

“I also still remember you stealing my cake when we were younger.” She giggled. “You loved cake more than anything else, I mean you still do.”

“Now you are on par with cake.” He mumbled and she furrowed her eyebrows whilst setting down the plate in front of him.

“I don’t know whether that is sweet or just plain weird. My brother’s undying love for fishing, Gladio’s obsession with cup noodles and your unconditional love for cake. By now I should be used to it, but it’s still hilarious.” She shook her head. “Well I hope you like it, Ignis and I have been trying to get the recipe right for weeks.”

The Tenebraen King cut a piece of cake and placed it into his mouth. He chewed and closed his eyes whilst sighing. Bella’s hands were slightly sweaty from his expression since she worried the cake wasn’t good. She ensured the sponge was soft so he could cut it with his only hand, and that cake was soft and airy but also not so sweet since the Ulwaat berries were sweet as it is. The buttercream was also sweet but not to the point where it would hurt his teeth either.

“I don’t like it.” He opened his eyes and saw his fiancée’s bottom lip quivering as she sniffled; goodness she was still so cute even at 28. “I love it.” Instantly her eyes brightened up and she grinned.

“I’m glad!” She exclaimed and started to dig in. They both enjoyed their cake together in silence until the woman’s mood suddenly changed. She looked up at Ravus with a frown and sighed after swallowing some tea.

“Ravus…” The man looked up at her with his mouth filled with a big piece of cake. If her mood hadn’t have changed so drastically, she would have been dying of laughter; but this was serious. “We’re getting married in a week...” She began and he chewed on his cake then swallowed it down in a big gulp. Ravus watched the Lucian Princess as she fiddled with her hair, a habit whenever she was nervous. “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life, with me?”

The man wasn’t surprised by the question because he knew that since she was young she was so insecure about herself, doubting if she was ever good enough. His eyebrows lowered as he took her hand in his again and she looked up at him.

“Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, loving you more than anything.” He replied. “I know you are still so insecure about yourself. But believe me, Bella. After everything that has happened, after I lost my mother, after I lost Luna, there was no person so devoted to me than you. Even during the Starscourge, you showed utmost devotion to me, even though for 10 years you took responsibility as a Queen of Lucis though your brother was not present. You have loved and respected me, treating me not as a Prince or a King, but as the boy you grew up with and the man you fell in love with. You saved me, in more ways than one…” He glanced at the scars on his wrists. “After losing all my family, you reminded me to live, not just for myself but for them. There is no other woman more perfect for me than you.”

“And there is no other man I would want to spend the rest of eternity to with, than you.” She replied. “You loved me, when I couldn’t even love myself and protected me when no one else could. My father taught to see the good before the bad, all I see in you now is good. You are mine and I am yours. Forever and always, My King.”

#ravusweek #day 4 #fanfic #ravus x oc

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amrselim · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

تاكد انك مشترك في القناة 💯 ومفعل الجرس عشان يوصلك كل جديد 🔔 وما تنساش تعمل لايك للفيديو 👍 نشرك للمقطع هو اكبر دعم ممكن تقدمه لي ... https://bit.ly/3WTbG8t أتمنى أن ينال الشرح أعجابكم ...................................................................... https://bit.ly/3N9F3OH https://bit.ly/3ux7pwI شير مشاركة #BIMarabia اشترك في القناة لمتابعة الشروحات الجديدة videos https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZYaOLTtPmOQX1fgtDFW52Q?sub_confirmation=1 بيم ارابيا https://bit.ly/1TSqEbr ❤️ رابط الاشتراك في القناة https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZYaOLTtPmOQX1fgtDFW52Q?sub_confirmation=1 ❤️ روابط التواصل ✅ انستجرام https://bit.ly/2JY3wZP ✅ الفيسبوك https://bit.ly/3AcrQBO ✅ تويتر https://twitter.com/bimarabia ✅ لينكد ان https://bit.ly/2nqASDv ✅ قناة التلجرام https://bit.ly/3bu9Pod ✅ الموقع الالكتروني الشخصي https://bit.ly/3N9F3OH https://bit.ly/3suwyqU https://bit.ly/3bEr3zh augmented reality https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9c5h0X-Kqw&list=PLNMim060_nUKpt2st91YUPa7BqWd0U2eb open source مفتوحة المصدر https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNYyejjLa-s&list=PLNMim060_nUK6qoVzrpjLucG_aBNaz_Ny revit workshop ورشة عمل ريفيت https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FIZBNN7CLk&list=PLNMim060_nULOxkcpmsGdaRXRnEj7rmGC OPEN STREET MAP https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKHnpu5birw&list=PLNMim060_nUJBibv97w-SfqGMjQCDc6xT المدن الذكية https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nGsbGafZ6c&list=PLNMim060_nUKxO8GJj5c-9POTgiCfOdmE الاستدامة https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_dma-4wOJU&list=PLNMim060_nUKIQ9OEPA5xGjQ471AQyp3F 🎉 Train Eye for AI with your own images! See the blog post. 👁️‍🗨️ The Wall Create Templates Train AI New Stable Diffusion 1.5 22 Credits Omar selim Generating 4 images with 50 quality steps and a 7.5 guidance scale. The orientation will be square. Prompt a glass skull covered in flowers Generate Open options Add a starting image Descriptors Pick from the options below to fine tune your prompt. Click to reset or randomize. 0 selected Emotions Positive mood, low energy Positive mood, high energy Negative mood, low energy Negative mood, high energy Size and structure Big and free Big and structured Small and free Small and structured Rendering 4k Realistic Octane Shot on IMAX 70mm surreal, photorealistic hyperdetailed, insane details, intricate Vibes Vaporwave: neon, pink, blue Post-apocalyptic Gothic, fantasy Cybernetic, sci-fi Steampunk Dieselpunk Afrofuturism Cyberpunk Biopunk, organic Analog illustrations Stencil, street art, Banksy Ballpoint pen art Pencil sketch Pencil drawing Political cartoon from U.S. newspaper Charcoal sketch Woodcut Field journal line art Colouring-in sheet Digital artsy Alegria, corporate memphis Collage, photocollage, magazine collage Vector art Watercolor & pen Screen printing Low poly Layered paper Sticker illustration Storybook Camera XYZ Extreme close-up Close-up Medium shot Long shot Extreme long shot Photo Documentation surrounded by foliage, dreamy autochrome pinhole photography studio photography, dark grey background, softly backlit, gentle smoke effect, photo courtesy Museum of Art dramatic low-key neon lighting, light painting, editorial photo from magazine high quality, photorealistic, sharp focus, depth of field Camera position Overhead view Low angle Aerial view Tilted frame Over-the-shoulder shot Aesthetics Abstract Tech Acid Pixie Acidwave Adventure Pulp Adventurecore Aetherpunk Afro-Victorian After Hours Agropeople Alien Alternative Classical artists By Van Gogh By Picasso By Salvador Dali By Leonardo da Vinci By Michelangelo By Rembrandt By Gustav Klimt By Claude Monet By Paul Cézanne By Paul Gauguin By Henri Matisse By Fransico Goya Modern artists By Jackson Pollock By Mark Rothko By Willem de Kooning By Andy Warhol By Banksy By Roy Lichtenstein By Jasper Johns By Robert Rauschenberg By Claes Oldenburg By Jeff Koons By Cindy Sherman By Damien Hirst By Takashi Murakami By Yayoi Kusama By Ai Weiwei Concept artists By Greg Rutkowski By Feng Zhu By Ji Lee By Jin Kim Painting mediums Oil on canvas Acrylic on canvas Watercolor on paper Ink on paper Charcoal on paper Pastel on paper Pencil on paper Colours Shades of blue Shades of green Shades of red Shades of yellow Shades of orange Shades of purple Shades of pink Black and white Your Images Showing 1 - 3 of 3 الذكاء الاصطناعي https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWmW84ZBrbg&list=PLNMim060_nUJs5lSTwbFK8Pe1BCUPT_EB by Omar Selim BIMarabia عمر سليم بيم ارابيا

#IFTTT #YouTube

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doodlebless · 6 years ago

Note

Hello! First; Big fan of your work! It's so good! xD I also loved how you responded to crowe/cindy/aranea anon - so nice of you to brainstorm and bump ideas around with him/her! :) Hence I was wondering what you though about this prompt I saw on ffxv_kinkmeme, where Noctis still has the ability to see the "light" (foresee people's deaths). I must admit it had me intrigued. How do you think that would change things? Thanks for answering in advance, and for sharing your wonderful writing!

Thank you so very much!!!

I l o v e the concept of Noct still being able to see the ‘light of expiring souls’, as the old trailer once put it. Heck, I’m not entirely convinced he can’t, honestly! Or at least, to a strange, almost cryptic degree.

When the footage from KG played at the end of chapter 1, at that point I didn’t know the ‘light’ plot point was cut, so I thought he was seeing glimpses of the deaths that happened there?? But he woke up from it like a bad dream or something, brought on by anxiety from being away from home and the upcoming wedding and with the treaty coming up.

And the scene with Luna in Altissia? That couldn’t honestly be it too. Like, death affects him in a dreamlike state, and when he’s awake, maybe he just mistakes it for magic or something and never really thought too much about it. But on a side note, imagine if his dream in Lestallum was a strange dreamlike representation of the people that died at the empire’s hands, brought to the forefront by Jared’s death?

Of course, I’m reaching a fair bit here, and feel free to assume this is just my ramblings about how Noct would be affected if it were still canon, but the more I think about it, the more it feels like it’s there, it’s just...a lot more minor than it once was, effecting him under more specific conditions.

And of course, if he could see the lights of the expired souls wherever he was in the game, that would be awful for him. All those souls in Insomnia, rising up into the great beyond as he looks over Insomnia’s destruction, trying not to count them, sure that he could never manage it even if he wanted to. When hunters take on a bounty and haven’t returned after a couple of days? Noct knows they’re gone, he’s seen their souls rising. He just...can’t bring himself to say. He’ll just give Ignis a quick glance, his eyes saying it all, and they’ll go to retrieve their dog tags.

There’s so many more examples honestly, and just thinking about it is making me really feelsy for the poor boy :’) I hope this answer was ok!

#ramblebless #ffxv spoilers #better tag it just in case xD #Anonymous

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leesacrakon · 7 years ago

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Prompt? 72. I'll meet you halfway. Maybe Moxiety? ~14Masks

FIY: THESE PROMPTS ARE FROM MONTHS AGO. THERE ARE NO LISTS TO REQUEST FROM ATM. I’M JUST EMPTYING OUT MY INBOX

72: “I’ll meet you halfway.”

tag list: @here-to-vent @fandomsofrandom @mylasagnaisraw @kalzul@virgilsspidercurtains @justanotherpurplebutterfly @tiny-mudkip @romananalogicality @pattonpending @edgeworthsnoodle @lovely-chaotic-goddess @aph-curls-n-dimples @the-babysitter @sunnyside12pershon @tormentist @thegeekgirl42 @emupoppyjay @introverted-slytherin-of-history @virgilmood@uriteurite-likethatlikethat @shimmerthenerd @mel-is-a-melon @juju–universe @ccecode@babiegreen@istolelittleredshoodie@afangirlforeverything@tree4life25@storytellerofuntoldlegends@overestimated-or-underestimated @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @cup-of-blue@poisonlyra@loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @jamie-the-outcast @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @pirate-patton@tinysidestrashcaptain @slowtownsanders@thelogicalanxiouscreativeheart @analogical-lovechild @pucabu@that-one-percussion-person @outtiefiftythousand @c-a-l-m-sanders @milomeepit @tayleece @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries @thelogicalloganipus @weeaboomichael @do-rey-me @pink-and-purple-flowers @ninjago2020 @bookwormravenclaw @contentrelatedurlidontknowthem @silly-aesthetic-me @roxiefox23 @pantasticpanini @mollycassmith @monikastec @shanisaur @liberalautisticnerd831@purplepotatomunv @animefansforlife @ams-parker @a-reference-of-sides @theevilbudgie @hamilspntrash @water13girl @the-nyan-cat-x3 @virgils-jacket @nerdy-emo-royal-dad @kittyboof8 @kenziecole-green @theguildedtypewriter @fandomsandanythingelse @twettypuff @imnottrashiswear @v-blue-writer @echointhetincan @theinsanelycooljaredkleinmen @fullofsadness13 @theonewithathousandfaces @bri-cas @brileyluvsyoutube @mcrismorealivethanmysoul @alwaysmy-lilith @shawnathefauna98 @alivingfandomreference @imthemaya @readeatfightlove13 @mostly-fandoms-partially-stars @gayfagg @lollingtothemax @give-me-a-minute-to-think @bubblycricket @icecoldparadise @the-prince-and-the-emo @twentyoneparades-to-panic-at @rose-gold-roman @this-is-ske @virgilsandersakaanxiety @starryfirefliesbloggo @generalfandomfabulousness @chaoticcharm-stone-posts @panicatthesalalmander @aikogumi @helloimjusthereforthecomments @virgilanxiety @moose-squirrel05 @wrenweasly @imthemaya @14masks

Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, YouTube

Warnings: Panic, frustration, tiny bit of self-hate, but nothing too serious. Food mention.

Ship(s): Romantic Moxiety

Virgil searched through his backpack frantically, his hands shaking. He forgot his Calculus homework. He fucking forgot his calculus homework. Tears of frustration welled up in Virgil’s eyes and he buried his head in his hands. He didn’t have time to go all the way back home after his morning classes and get back in time to be able to get to his afternoon classes. Virgil got out for lunch at 11 and his classes after that didn’t start until 1pm, but he lived off campus, quite a ways away, and he had other work to do. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. Virgil had spent hours on that homework, and now all of his hard work was for nothing. Unless…

Virgil pulled out his phone from his pocket, squirming slightly in his seat with discomfort. Virgil’s boyfriend, Patton, was attending a smaller college close to Virgil’s apartment, and while he didn’t have any classes today, he worked at a coffee shop fairly close by to both locations. He would be on break in a few minutes if Virgil remembered correctly, and maybe, just maybe, he would help Virgil out. The stressed college student ran a shaky hand through his hair before finding his lover in his contacts and shooting him a text.

Virgil: Hey, babe. R u on break yet?

💖👓My Heart💖👓: Sure am, sweetheart. Why? Is there something you need.

Virgil: Yeah…I left my Calc hw on my kitchen counter. M srry to bother u with it, but I don’t have time 2 get to my apartment and back in time 4 class.

💖👓My Heart💖👓: Do you want me to bring it to school for you?

Virgil: Pls.

Virgil: I’m srry, this is probably really messing up ur schedule and stuff

💖👓My Heart💖👓: Not at all! I’ve been wanting to see you all day anyway, sweetie. ��

💖👓My Heart💖👓: I’ll meet you halfway. Sound good?

Virgil: Sounds gr8. Thanks again. I love you.

💖👓My Heart💖👓: Aw, I love you too, you big softie. And do you want some muffins? Cindy gave me a bunch today, they’re chocolate chip!

Virgil: Ooh, yes please, I didn’t eat this morning…

💖👓My Heart💖👓: TWO chocolate chip muffins then! I swear, Virgil, if you didn’t have me you’d be a hot mess haha. See you later 💖

Virgil smiled softly, sending Patton a few heart emojis before putting his phone back in his pocket, his heart thudding in his chest and his cheeks warm. He couldn’t wait to see his love. He was so lucky to have found a man like Patton.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #human au #college au #virgil sanders #patton sanders #frustration #panic #self-hate #food mention #moxiety #romantic moxiety #college stuff #forgetting homework #idk if this is how college works but i tried

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 6 years ago

Text

What time is it?? It’s weekly update time! Surprise, surprise. It’s your fave absentee mod ( who is on family vacation ) here to give the lowdown. Let’s see what we have going on:

I. We’ve been loosely calling it ‘the snap’, but the official name we’re going with for what Thanos did is now the CLEANSE within our canon.

II. BLURBS! If your character has survived and isn’t in ash world then we need you to send in a little snippet about what’s gone on for them. Remember, it’s been one year since Thanos’ snap so some time has passed. Some characters have pending blurbs ( lorna dane / tandy bowen ) which have been cleared with us. BLURBS ARE STILL NEEDED FOR THE FOLLOWING:

cassie lang

cindy moon

nico minoru

riri williams

scott summers

steve rogers

III. If your character has turned to ash and you wish to keep them active, please let us know! We still need to hear from:

adam brashear

noh-varr

pepper potts

IV. If you’re lost or unsure about plot, please message us. Remember, we do have this handy dandy recap that should be of use if you need it.

V. The main may be getting a new url soon, so keep your eyes peeled. You’ll notice that the colors have shifted as we slide into this new world.

VI. Ash characters can still be applied for! Sam Wilson, Stephen Strange & T’Challa are on our most wanted in ash world. You can find them and other most wanted characters on the page.

VII. The bio push is beginning! We’ll have released the first group, aka the first eight, tonight so keep your eyes peeled as more are published so you know what’s going on / stay up to date.

VIII. To keep things funky fresh we’ll be unlocking character versions from around the multiverse. For example, MCU!Janet went goodbye in the Cleanse, but 616!Janet will be opened as the multiverse will not be affected by what Thanos did.

IX. As soon as the rest of the blurbs come in, we’ll be posting them. Expect a prompt and questionnaire to be released soon. Eyes peeled, homies. Eyes peeled.

X. School is starting back up && we don’t want to lose any of our lovelies. Let us know if you need a hiatus and we’ll put you on the page. We want to work with y’all, so don’t be shy if you need a break. Real life will always come first.

There’s probably more but you know how it goes. This mod’ll be popping back in, so hit up the starter tag or drop us any questions you may have. As always, WE’D LOVE APPS FOR ANY OF OUR OPEN CHARACTERS. Seriously, we’re a party. Come join. See you around, lovelies.

#imadmins #admin kate #marvel rpg #mcu rpg #iw rp #infinity war rp #weekly update

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spideyxchelle · 7 years ago

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I know you probably have a lot of headcanon request. But if you would mind I'd love something along the lines of peter and mj are dating or on the verge of dating and Liz comes back. And then idk mj thinks peter is still into Liz and starts to pull away and peter is kinda like.. ??

this prompt has been sitting in my inbox haunting me forever now and i hope i do it justice, i’m not sure i did, tbh. music insp.

there is nothing worse than an almost-something, an almost-could-have-been. and MJ knows that better than most how that feels.

perhaps we should start at the beginning. shall we?

for the rest of sophomore year (because homecoming is at the beginning of the school year) peter and MJ got close as hell. because of decathlon at first….and a little secret getting out.

MJ found his webbing formula in his school notes during a study session for chem and, for obvious reasons, had a lot of questions. and when peter tried to answer (see: fumbling) she didn’t buy his shit. so Ned had to learn to share guy in the chair duties. except MJ was better at eating snacks and offering witty commentary than geeking out over spiderman. because even if peter was a real superhero or some shit, he was still the same guy who had a mullet in the 8th grade. and c’mon.

the summer between sophomore year and junior year was the moment for peter and mj. their friendship was on a path, a one way ticket of inevitability. and where it ended they both kind of knew.

they’d spent the whole year being friends, sharing laughs and inside jokes and becoming invaluable to one another. peter had lost count of how many times mj had patched him up after a mission gone wrong. or how many times she’d stolen his snacks during movie marathons.

their touches burned, their glances lingered a bit too long…..and their smiles felt private and personal. even Ned found himself leaving the room whenever they had one of their awkward, fully-loaded moments.

and MJ started to watch their every interaction. like, maybe today was the day they took the plunge.

almost-something, an almost-could-have-been.

because in august liz allen toomes moved back to new york city.

she had gotten into Columbia, MJ heard from Cindy, and classes started in August. which meant the summer of almosts or could-bes can to an abrupt halt. their moment had passed. liz was back in town. and MJ knew there wasn’t even a contest between the two girls.

which is why she pulls away. full stop.

at first, its easy to pull away. peter doesn’t even try and fight it. she’s busy. she has to watch her little brother. she has a family thing. the lies come easily.

slowly, it becomes harder. because peter starts to figure something is up. especially when they go back to school. because they have classes together and MJ still finds excuses to avoid him. in the same-fucking-classes.

and her pulling away hurts. because he’s sure she was an almost-something, an almost-could-have-been. and he can’t put his finger on the pulse of what went wrong, of how he fucked this up.

so, he does the worst possible thing. he asks liz.

since she’s moved back, they’ve gotten close. ish. as close as he can be with someone he used to have a pathetic crush on and the daughter of the girl he put in prison. he and liz are insanely complicated. but good friends. considering.

and she’s a girl. maybe she’ll understand how a girl thinks and feels. because he sure as hell can’t figure it out.

he shows up at her dorm room and does an adorable, little snapchat about getting lost at Columbia (which MJ totally sees and doesn’t help the situation). when liz sees him, she notices his face and posture and immediately asks, “what’s wrong with you, peter?” “i’m having….girl trouble?” he offers sheepishly. she pauses, then pushes her door open more so he can come in. they get comfy in her room on her questionably springy twin mattress. “don’t you think its a little weird asking me for girl advice?” “i’d ask may…but she just tells me i’m great and then we eat thai food.” “okay,” she laughs, and he briefly remembers why he liked her so much.

she was kind. he would have done anything for her, once. but everything that felt like worship with liz is also why his feelings faded. while MJ, his feelings were different. she frustrated him. sometimes he wanted to scream at her. but he wanted the hard times with her. almost as much as he wanted the good times. and he REALLY wanted the good times.

“so?” peter waits for all of three seconds for blurting out, “i like MJ. and i thought she liked me.” liz blinks, obviously taken aback, “michelle?” “yeah,” peter stutters, “i just…do. “ “you don’t have to defend it to me, peter” he bounces his knee and asks, “so what’s the trick, the secret? how do i…..uh…make it happen?” liz pats his his knee in a forced effort to make it stop shaking, “there’s no secret, peter. sometimes you gotta just put it all on the line and hope it works.”

he remembers the last time he did that. it was with the sweet girl with the gentle eyes sitting next to him. “i’m sorry,” he says surprising himself, “and i know i say that a lot…but i am sorry. for everything. for ditching decathlon, for leaving you at the dance. for everything.” for her father. for what he did to her family. even if he didn’t mean to. he thinks about mr. toomes more than he admits to Tony. he thinks his mentor suspects.

liz kisses his cheek and it feels like a goodbye. maybe they needed this, he thinks. closure feels as good. “you should go talk to her.” “yea,” he nods, “i should. its been…weeks, though.” “you’ve got now,” liz says gently, “and that’s all you can have.”

they spend the rest of the night talking. and whatever left over feelings he might have had for liz melt away. because knowing her, knowing her beyond the pedestal he put her on, makes everything so much clearer. she’s great. but so not for him.

he needs his albeit it somewhat grumpy, brilliant best friend. he needs her challenge, her spirit. her smile. her random trivia on the diamond industry and its cruelty. everything.

the next day he finds MJ in her favorite cafe. its more a library with coffee than an actual cafe but its so MJ it hurts. the books are worn and tattered. and he can hear MJ’s voice in his head saying that these books are used, they’re loved. they’ve lived.

and he wants that for them. he wants to live like these books.

he sits across from her in her reading nook. he doesn’t wait before he starts speaking, “why don’t you talk to me anymore?” she startles, narrows her eyes and replies, “i talk to you, parker. like right now. see?” “don’t fuck with me, MJ,” he says stronger, “you know what i mean.”

his words make it hard for her to look away. whenever he straightens his spine and talks up at her like an equal it always catches her attention. he demands her respect. and damn him, he has it. “i don’t know what you mean, loser.”

“i thought we meant more to each other than radio silence.” “the summer is over, peter.” “we were friends before the summer, MJ.” “and we’re still friends.” “i thought,” and he channels liz, live for the moment, “i thought we were more.”

and MJ scoffs, “you never….you….don’t act like….oh shut up.” “why?” he challenges, “i’m trying to figure it out, MJ. i’m trying to figure out what happened between us. we felt so close.” “you were literally with liz last night.”

and it all clicks. the last few weeks. the end of the summer. her pulling away. all of it.

peter stands, pulls down his shirt indignantly, “i was with liz to talk about you. because you’ve been ignoring me. because i like you. okay? find me once you’ve worked this out, MJ. the cold shoulder sucks, fyi.”

MJ spends the whole night playing over the last month or so over and over and over again in her head. that line they were teetering on feels more and more real the more she thinks about it. and she was right. it wasn’t one sided. but she’d let liz’s appearance shake her unshakeable confidence. because peter parker made her damn vulnerable. fuck him. he was so wonderful. and it was a problem for her.

the next day, she sits next to him in chem and she sees the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile.

“don’t make a big deal out of this,” she chides him. his hand finds her under the lab table and they tangle their fingers. he smiles even bigger. “what did i say?” she mumbles. “yea, yea,” he squeezes her fingers, “i heard you.”

they talk about it after school. and there is a bit of an argument. which ends in their first kiss. because she is talking so much and peter is O V E R it. he gets a string of curse words for his presumptuous move. which ends in their second kiss because MJ wants to stop talking of her violation this time.

when she sees Liz three weeks later, its with Peter on her arm and she feels her face heat up but she’s so glad no one can tell she’s blushing. Liz smirks, “alright, MJ?” “i got there, okay?” “with a little push,” peter nudges her. she knocks him back, “i got there, though. gimme some credit.”

#headcanon ask

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lsmithart · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

Women Art Revolution Documentary...

REFERENCES:

Анна Карвалейру, (2015). women art revolution limited 2010. Youtube. [Online]. Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyKmVo5jDdQ&list=PLTi6OHh9i_g7xVdPaEiaxRaGxHPajsN-G&index=44. [Accessed on 11/05/2020].

Film Notes:

In late 60’s women artists created a coalition titled ‘WAR’ - Women Art Revolution. Why was it necessary to do this? Books were written in a way that denigrated women artists if they were even mentioned.

There was no access to the work made by women - it was censored.

End of 1960’s - Almost no women artists that were visible.

What does it mean to be a woman artist? It is tough, must work much harder. White male shows were always preferable.

Minimalism - purpose was to arrive at an ever purer notion of what an object can be.

There was growing tensions between feminist and minimal art.

In protest to the invasion of Cambodia, artist Robert Morris closed his exhibition at the Whitney. Robert Rauschenberg and Carl Andre withdrew their work from the Venice Biennale. Together, the opened a Biennale of Exile in New York - but the artists were only white men. In response to this there was an uproar and an organisation called WSABAL (although this was actually just two people) protested against it. They made them think it was a large group! Projected slides of women’s art work, a fake press release and photos of eggs on the side of the Whitney. They also hid eggs in the museum, some with 50% written on them to demonstrate equality for women’s art.

Judy Chicago started the first ever Feminist Art Programme Group. Easier to access subject matter in the group through performance. Performance art - a peculiar place where people can be extremely experimental.

Micro-politics within family shaped women and their responses. Was a hard transition to all of a sudden be angry about men after such a long period of repression.

Liberation resulted in many of the women’s marriages coming to an end.

Statistically, n America, every 2 minutes a woman is raped.

‘The Politics of Housework’ - early feminist literature. Philosophical statements: “The Personal is the Political”.

‘The Semiotics of the Kitchen’ - feminist film work created by Martha Rosier in 1975.

Role playing and gender swapping in feminist artwork - Eleanor Antin, Lynn Hershman (alter ego), Judy Dater, Ana Mendieta, Martha Wilson.

Eleanor Antin, Adrian Piper, Howardena Pindell - made work about race.

Feminist artist Ana Mendieta married minimalist artist Carl Andre.

Miriam Schipiro and Judy Chicago - created Womanhouse. Turned a house into a feminist artwork collection.

The Woman’s Building - Los Angeles.

‘The Body Politic’ - Changing the narrative of women being looked upon.

Artist Examples:

“Intra-Venus Tapes” - Hannah Wilke

“Vital Statistics of a Citizen, Simply Obtained” - Martha Rosler (performance) - measured ruthlessly, prompting thoughts about the constraints and measurements of women constantly.

Eleanor Antin - series of photos of herself naked.

Ana Mendieta - the frailty of the female body. Violence and the vulnerability of women’s bodies.

“Feed Me” Barbara T Smith. Performance as the victim.

“Cut Piece” Yoko Ono - performance.

“Rhythm 10” Marina Abramovic - performance.

Carolee Schneemann - the body as an extension of material.

First Person Plural - Lyn Hershmann

Joan Semmel, Yael Semmek

The potential of artists as image makers in making change.

When Ana Mendieta died and Carl Andre was charged - no one in the art world really stood up against him in Mendieta’s defence - not even the Guerrilla Girls.

When Andre’s first show was shown since her death, there was mass protest against him.

‘Sexual Politics’ Exhibition.

Did feminism change the structure of the way art is made, sold and written about? Is identifying with feminism a limitation or not?

Cindy Sherman and Barbara Kruger iconic artists of feminist art period.

“History is fragile, it clings to the most obvious evidence that remains.”

Janine Antoni - made the work of the 70’s without realising. Found no information about iconic artists of that period recommended to her by professor such as Ana Mendieta, Hannah Wilke and Carolee Schneemann.

‘The New Museum’ founded in 1977 by Marcia Tucker.

1992 Women’s Action Coalition was formed. A feminist open-alliance that sought to address the issues of women’s rights through direct action.

WACK! Exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art opened in 2008.

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