#us bc we switch in the middle of sentences | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tinyyoungblood · 3 years

Note

hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”

Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.

“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.

“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”

This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”

“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.

“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Nope.”

You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.

He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.

“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.

Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.

“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.

To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.

“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.

A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.

The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”

Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”

The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”

“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”

“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”

Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.

“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”

Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.

“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”

No one spoke.

“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.

You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.

He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.

Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.

“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.

In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.

Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.

I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.

“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”

Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.

You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still

You're still a traitor

“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.

“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.

“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.

“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.

“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”

“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”

Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.

“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”

He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.

Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.

“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.

“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.

“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me

“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.

“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.

Like a damn sociopath

You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom

Just over the fact that I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”

You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.

“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.

Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”

You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”

* * *

stay hydrated pals

2K notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Trophy Husband

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,188 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Dry humping, Unprotected sex, a lil Daddy kink Summary: Requested by anon: “maybe some dad bod hotch smut? like where he’s newly retired and hasn’t been working out as much and the reader worships his body bc he’s been feeling a little insecure” I love some dad bod Hotch, so happy to fill this request! Link to A03 or read below!

“No, we’re not doing forced overtime again. If you want my team to put out more consults, then we need to hire more profilers.” You walk through your front door and into the kitchen, smiling when you see Aaron standing over the stove, holding a wooden spoon and stirring something that smells amazing. “With all due respect, I’m not concerned about the budget, sir; if my people are as valuable as you stated, then I expect them to be taken care of.”

Aaron looks back at you, wrinkles his nose, and you make a motion with your hands—blah, blah, blah—which makes him chuckle.

“I agree completely, sir. That’s a great idea. If you send down the requisitions tomorrow, I’ll start interviewing on Monday. No, thank you. Good night.” You lock your phone, set your bag on the stool closest to you, and sigh. “Was it this hard to get stuff done when you were the unit chief?”

“No, it’s definitely harder now, but you make it look easy. And sexy,” he says with a smirk, and you walk over to him; he offers a taste of what he’s making—it looks like paella, and your stomach rumbles—and you lean in to take a bite off of the spoon, looking up at him and flicking your tongue over your lips. His eyes get dark.

Even after ten years of marriage, he’s so easy to get going, it’s almost unfair.

“Delicious, daddy, thank you.” You stand up fully, and he turns back to the stove; your arms wrap easily around his waist, cheek pressed to the soft, worn t-shirt that covers his back. “How was your day? Are you still enjoying the life of a trophy husband?” He snorts, muscles tensing enough that you can feel it where you rest.

“Hardly.” He was in such a good mood a moment ago that this feels like a complete 180; profiler or not, you know your husband, and something’s on his mind. You tighten your embrace, and he shrugs you off a little, and that is practically unheard of. You stand, take a step back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t getting bored of retirement already, are you? It’s only been six months.” He sighs, shakes his head. You’re sure you look confused.

“No, retirement is fine; it’s great, actually, it’s not that.” Typical Aaron, always making you drag this shit out of him. For being so sweet and kind, he’s still not that great at being open, even though you make every effort to encourage it.

“What is it, sweetheart? Something is obviously bothering you; we should talk about it.” Another deep exhale, and he turns off the burner, moves the pan of food off of the heat, and turns to face you fully.

“I imagine you already know.” You shake your head, shrug, and he gestures to himself, to his body. You feel stupid, like there’s something you’re missing.

“Aaron, love of my life, I don’t have any idea what this means.” You mimic his previous motion, and he rolls his eyes, which you can’t stand, and he’s well aware of that. “You’ve got to give me more than that, or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help, it just… is.” He sighs, and his shoulders deflate. You move closer, to touch him, comfort him, but he takes a step back. “I know I’m not the ‘trophy husband’ you probably expected me to be. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

You do your best to put together these cryptic sentences, the hand gesture, and when realization finally dawns on you, you can’t help it: you laugh.

Aaron turns away, and you know that was shitty, feel instantly terrible, so you reach out to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just… you don’t think you’re hot anymore?” He turns to face you, looking at you like he’s tired of your shenanigans, which… after this long, he should be plenty used to them, so the look does nothing for you.

“I’ve gotten… soft, I think that’s obvious.” At that, you smirk a little, move your hands to the button on his jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything soft about you, Aaron. Why don’t you let me put your cock in my mouth, and we’ll check again.”

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His tone is a little admonishing, and you kind of deserve it, so you stop being horny for a second and take a deep breath.

“You’re right. Sorry. So… you’re exercising less, because obviously you don’t need to be as fit anymore, since you’re not working. Am I following?” He nods his head. “Okay, and you’re feeling… insecure about the way your body looks now, because of it.”

“Yes. Especially when you, Unit Chief Hotchner, are kicking ass and looking fucking delicious doing it, and then you have to come home to me.”

It’s like a switch is flipped in you, at those words. Oh hell no.

“Hold on here. I don’t have to come home to you, I get to come home to you; every night I do, it’s like a dream come true, and on the nights I don’t get to come home to you, I dream about it. I dream about being in your arms—strong arms, always, even if they’re less defined—and I dream about making love to you and fucking you and everything in between. You: not the Aaron of two months ago or six months ago or five years ago. You.”

He looks your face over—you’re getting fired up and you know it, and it turns him on and you also know that—and then the two of you come together for a deep, desperate kiss. Your hands fist in his hair, his roughly grab your ass, and when you pull back for air he turns you so you’re bent over the counter, searches for the zipper of your skirt.

“No!” He freezes, then steps back, and you stand up, flushed. “I’m sorry, not no—just, not here.” He blows out a breath, and you kiss him softly, sorry you scared him. “It’s just that… I want to lay you back on our bed, completely naked, and I want to put my mouth and my hands on you, everywhere. I want you to see what your body does to me, exactly as it is right now. I get that that might make you feel a little vulnerable, but will you let me?” You press your lips to his again, put your hands gently on his face. “Let me, baby.”

He nods, and you take his hand, take him to your bedroom. He’s visibly nervous, so you move his hands to your body, let him strip you naked first. He always takes pleasure in this, whether he is ripping the buttons off your favorite blouse or softly mouthing at your thighs while he drags your panties down your legs, and tonight is no exception.

“So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs as he finds that zip and drags it down, helping you step out of the skirt. You kick off your heels, and he unbuttons your top—carefully, tonight—then unhooks your bra, pulls you close and kisses your neck and chest so deliciously you almost forget what brought you here.

You lick your lips, shake yourself from the haze of submission you always feel when his mouth is at your throat, and your hands flick open the button of his jeans, tug down the zipper, guide his pants to the floor. He steps out of them, and you kiss his mouth.

Your hands move up, to the hem of his t-shirt, but you do nothing. He smirks, pulls it over his head, because he knows you love that hot guy way of pulling a t-shirt off with one hand, and he happens to be a master of it. You do your best not to drool.

“Mmm. You know exactly what I like, Aaron. There’s nobody in this world who could turn me on like you, who could get me off like you.” He licks his lips, and you get on your knees, running your hands down his body as you go. “Toes to nose, you are exactly who and what I want. Don’t ever forget that.”

You start low, press your lips to the tops of his feet, then his ankles, his calves, his knees. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but you keep moving up, slowly, until your hands find the waistband of his underwear and you pull them down. His cock springs up—this in particular is never a problem, no matter his age—and you kiss up his thighs and then rise to stand.

“Baby,” he breathes, and you lean up for a kiss, drop your panties. He grabs a fistful of your hair, takes another, rougher kiss, then releases you; you’re panting hard, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. God, he’s good. How could he ever doubt his sex appeal when he makes you this much of a horny, eager mess with just a kiss?

You guide him back to the bed because he’s too tall for you to reach everywhere standing up; you start at his right wrist, kiss your way to the crook of his elbow, over his biceps, to his shoulder. You trail your lips over his collarbone, his throat, pausing to nibble on his earlobes, to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much, Aaron. You are and always will be perfect in my eyes. I barely even notice when you’re being a dick anymore,” you joke, and he laughs; steamy and sexy is really good, but it’s your favorite when he laughs.

You kiss down the other side of his neck, down his arm, but this time you bring his hand up and suck on his middle and ring fingers, taking them so deeply you can flick your tongue over his wedding ring. He groans, you groan, it’s really hot. Your pussy throbs.

“Fuck, baby.” You pull them out of your mouth with an innocent smile, and then straddle his legs, leaning forward to suck and bite kisses all over his stomach and hips, avoiding his cock altogether. “Oh, god, that feels so good,” he breathes, reaching for your hair, and you slide your arms up his chest, squeeze the muscles there that are softer, but still present, while you kiss wetly along his belly.

“Mmm,” you moan while you kiss, because you’re kind of… lined up tight against his thigh, and it feels really good.

You keep kissing, all over, sloppy, eager kisses, rubbing his chest and grinding against his thigh, and it’s a surprise to you both when you come, looking up at him with your mouth open and your nails digging into his skin.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh when you’re done—there’s no sugarcoating this—humping his leg, and he licks his lips, wraps his hands around your arms, and maneuvers you on onto your back, slides his cock easily inside you where you’re wet and warm. “Yes, Aaron.”

“Oh, baby. Fuck, I love you,” he groans, and he laces your fingers with his and tucks his face against your neck. You love when he gets like this, so desperate to come but so soft, so loving, and you squeeze him with your legs, push your body into his thrusts.

“Like that, honey, just like that,” you breathe, mouthing at his shoulder, your free hand clutching at his back. “Come inside me, daddy; pin me with your big body like you always do and come inside me. Love it, want it, need it.”

He moans into your throat, works his hips harder, faster, and you hold him when he comes, smoothing your palm over his skin. He looks down at you, and love shines in his eyes just like always; your heart melts a little. That’s something you’ll never get tired of seeing as long as you live.

He pulls out, replaces his cock with his fingers and brings you to orgasm again, still looking into your eyes, and he catches your last gasping moan with his lips.

You’re both tired after that, not as young as you used to be, and you pull him on top of your body again, a warm, reassuring weight; underneath him is your favorite place to be, always has been, always will be.

“Trophy husband,” you coo in his ear, scraping fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Badass wife.”

“Mm hmm, and don’t you forget it.” After a couple minutes, your stomach rumbles, and Aaron climbs off of you, returns with the whole pan of paella, two spoons, and a bottle of white wine. “No glasses?” you ask, teasing, sitting up against the pillows, and he shakes his head, wrinkles his nose.

“Nah, I like it better this way. My lips where your lips have been.” He leans in for a soft, slow, sultry kiss, and you sigh when it’s over, lean your head against his shoulder, and smile.

❤️ Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #request

539 notes · View notes

windbornevioletta · 3 years

Text

Poly WangXian x Reader Headcanons

Okay so I have a lot of hcs and prompts written in a notebook but it's taking me a bit of time to transfer them onto my laptop to post them. Also there are a lot of y'alls in these because I use it a lot irl (bc of where I live)

o More likely that y’all met after Wei Wuxian is summoned into Mo Xuanyu’s body

§ I don’t really wanna insert reader into the Cloud Recesses flashback thing because that whole bit was a point of personal development for both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

o Could have met Lan Wangji during the 13 years following WW’s death and become another parental figure to Sizhui.

§ Angst Alert: You like LZ romantically but you know he probably doesn’t like you in that sense bc he told you about WWX. What you don’t know is that he is conflicted because he does like you romantically, but he still loves WWX and is mourning.

o You could have met WWX at Mo Manor and travel with him as y’all interact with the juniors who quickly become attached. (could also travel with LZ either way y’all meet)

§ WWX has a lot of faith in you because he didn’t know you in his first life so he feels safe as he is trying to avoid anyone who could recognize him (also bc man needs a hug and a warm presence in his life)

§ Trust increases as he begins to wonder about settling on a life of traveling with you

· UNTIL Y’ALL SEE LAN ZHAN, and you tease him for his blatant crush but dense boi thinks you mean his crush on you lmao.

o Canon ensues with you being a grounding presence around the two and not letting anymore miscommunication happen because man that stuff is annoying

o Reactions to your marriage:

§ Lan Qiren is begrudging because he doesn’t have the best opinion of WWX and he kinda hoped LZ would marry you as the “better” influence.

§ Lan Xichen is pleasantly surprised because LZ got the man of his dreams, but they also included another (you!) which means his brother will never be alone again.

· Also you and Xichen get along great and have weekly discussions of anything and everything

§ Sizhui is like “ I have TWO dads AND a MOM! Or I have THREE dads!”

· We love him in this house

§ The other juniors are happy that no one was forced to choose

o ALRIGHT FLUFF TIME!!!!

o WWX is sandwiched between you and LZ when y’all sleep because either you and LZ sleep like logs and stop WWX from accidently hurting himself or you and WWX move a lot and this stops y’all from pushing LZ of the bed.

§ WWX just deserves all the love but occasionally y’all will switch who is in the middle

o Morning Routines

§ If you are an early riser:

· Morning tea/breakfast with Lan Zhan

· Meditation or morning walks together to get fresh air

· Just comfortable silence or quiet chats while holding hands

· Gentle and sweet kisses before you start the day

· Comparing day schedules while you prepare breakfast for Wei Wuxian to see when your paths cross for a quick kiss or two

§ If you are a night owl or late riser:

· Holding onto Wei Wuxian when you wake up

· Comedic shenanigans ensue when trying to pull him out of bed in the morning

· Late night talks that end with y’all asleep mid-sentence

· Attentively listening to his invention talks (whether you really understand them or not) and hugging him when he is brainstorming

· Tired cuddles

· Success kisses

o Throughout the day:

o Sneaky smiles shared during mealtimes in the Cloud Recesses and quiet chatter when its just you, WWX, and LZ

o Lots of spoken and unspoken “I love yous” (it’s kinda sickening how sweet y’all are)

o SHARING LITTLE MELODIES THAT YOU CAME UP WITH FOR EACH OTHER

o Those two are prone to overworking so it’s more than likely that you plan some days off to spend together and/or with the juniors.

o You and LZ fighting anyone who talks crap about Wei Wuxian or your relationship

o If you speak another language, then you definitely sing songs to them in it and give them foreign petnames

o If you are non-chinese (I’m Mexican-American), then I assure you that they would definitely try to integrate parts of your culture into your life if you do the same with them

#mzds #wangxian x reader #the untamed #the untamed x reader #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wei ying #polyamory #headcanons #mdzs reader insert #mdzs x reader

412 notes · View notes

brightjimini · 3 years

Text

Nite in shining armor

Jason Todd x fem!meta!reader

This is part of my Metanite one-shots Y/N has the ability to bend metal and is a anti-hero/criminal

Warnings: mentions of killing

Word count: 1.2K

A/N: I hope yall like this. This is part of @redhoodssweetheart writing challenge! Thank you! Scenarios: Enemies to lovers and a masquerade ball.

Anyway I am going to bed bcs I am tired. Let me know what yall thought please. I will be writing more Metanite oneshots!

Masterlist for more!

Classical music was playing through the entire ballroom. Women in beautiful ball gowns, men in suits with different accessories. The scene looked straight out of a disney movie. But some of them weren't there to find the love of their life or just drink their thoughts away. No they wanted a certain man dead. How did I find out? Not important. The bad thing is is that I found out about it fifteen minutes ago.

My plan of stealing a pretty necklace of one of the attendees went out of the window as soon as I heard the name Jason Todd and hitlist in one sentence. See I've known him as Red Hood even as Robin for years. Except for the ones he was dead and I went on the hunt for Joker.

We’ve always had this dynamic. It was fun and exciting, but neither of us were maybe ever going to admit that. We fought, chased each other, had long and deep conversations or silence and sometimes killed the people that wanted to hurt the other person. Healthy right?

Anyways, the ballgown in my favourite shade of red was flowing around my legs as I looked for the annoying, tall and broad man with a white streak in his dark hair. A few men had tried to talk to me but I was not intersted in them. The masquerade was organised by Bruce Wayne for whatever reason. People danced around with their partners. The only rule was that if a man was asked by a woman for a dance they couldn't refuse.

I hadn't asked anyone yet, mainly because my reason for being here didn't require me talking to the opposite gender. I pushed past a few more people when I finally saw him. He had just finished dancing with a woman in a white dress with a matching mask. His back was turned towards me but I just knew he was irritated.

As I went to take a step when a woman on the other side of the room caught my eye or rather the shiny thing she had around her neck. My hands were itching and my mind was racing.. He could be alone for a minute right?

But then I saw someone else. The woman had a determined look on her face and was also looking around the room. Her hand went to the side of her gown- Her eyes landed on Jason and then I saw it. The determination turned into a murderous smile. A predator looking for its prey.

All my focus was now on Todd as if he could feel the womans eyes on him his head turned to her. She walked towards him. I strode across the expensive marble floors. Without saying anything to him I cut the path of the woman off, grabbed his arm and put it around my waist.

I let out a faked nervous laugh towards the woman who looked like she also wanted me dead. “Sorry, he promised me a dance.” I said kindly. Her expression switched and she tried to smile back flirtatiously to Jason. I could feel that his arm around my waist was tense.

“Safe one for me.” She said to him, ignoring me.

I lead Jason a little bit more towards the middle of the dance floor. Surprisingly he followed me without complaining. He even went along by putting his other hand around my waist. Resting both of his hands on my lower back.

Surprisingly when I met his eyes he wasn't bothered or confused. Instead I was met with a cocky smile and his eyes gleaming under the red mask. I bit back a groan, the look of the woman that wanted to kill him in my head.

I ignored the funny feeling in my stomach and leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear. What I didn't expect was him pressing me closer to his chest and grabbing my hand to actually dance with me. He took the lead and I followed him in his steps.

“Red looks good on you.” he said. His voice was rough while he said it softly in my ear. I shivered. Not expecting his comment. I wanted to forget why I was here and prolong this moment, but I couldn't.

“They want you dead.” I said.

Jason chuckled. I could feel his chest shake a little.

“Many do, love.”

And that is the moment I rolled my eyes. “No, I mean right here, tonight. One of my sources found a list with their next victims and you are number one and not as Red Hood.”

I leaned back a little with my neck so that I could see his face. He was scanning the faces of the people around us. He gave a tiny nod. “Okay and whats your plan? Are you gonna be my knight in shining armor?” God.. this man. The hint towards my alias wasn't lost on me. But two could play this game, like many times before.

“Yes actually I do.” I didnt have one a few minutes ago, but I did right now. I stood still and he followed. A nagging feeling went through my body but I ignored it. The outside world blurring.

I ignored the beating of my heart and without thinking pressed my lips against his. For a second he froze. After that moment he leaned closer. His hand now holding the side of my face.

Before one of us could deepen the kiss I leaned back. I was back on earth when I sensed metal. I cant explain how but I knew it was a gun by the type and mixture of the metal and it wasn't the one under Jason's jacket. I heard someone scream and a shot at the same time. I pushed Jason out of the way.

Lifting my hand I stopped the bullet I had felt release out of the gun mid air. People moved back, gasping. Some hurrying towards the exit.

Word had been out that I had these powers. But they didn't really know what I looked like. I mean they still didn't know because of my mask still, I was here now between the most influential people from Gotham revealing them. The woman from before stood there, her gun still lifted in the air.

I could see the shock in her eyes. Shocked whispers and murmurs went through the crowd. It was time for me to go. I did not sense any other metal weapons, only Jasons. Meaning he could handle himself. I clenched my outstretched hand into a fist. The gun in the woman's hand formed slowly into a ball. She quickly let it go and it fell to the ground with a clank.

Bodyguards moved towards the both of us. Time for me to go. Again I lifted myself in the air bending the metal in the soles of my heels. In a few seconds I was gone.

Let me know what you thought luv

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood fic #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #dc imagine #dc x reader #dcmultiverse #batboys imagine #BatFam

76 notes · View notes

identityarchitect · 3 years

Text

hi welcome to a stupid thing me & my qpp wrote bc of the jerma archivist joke. pls enjoy \o/ @tefmiles

[CLICK]

[PRESUMABLY; LONDON, SOMEWHERE ELSE]

JON

(tone implying this conversation has been going on for a while) I know, Martin, but if we can get to the Archives we can stop - everything! Everyone will be fine, and then we can leave, and just go about having a *normal* life.

MARTIN

(patient but exasperated) Love, I'm sure they'll be just fine. We don't know who the Archivist is now. Maybe the Archivist is someone.. (he trails off)

JON

Better at their job?

MARTIN

No, no, just.. someone who'd figure it out sooner.

JON

Right.

[THEY FALL INTO COMFORTABLE SILENCE. THE SOUND OF THEIR FOOTSTEPS ON PAVEMENT IS AUDIBLE.]

JON (CONTD.)

I just, I mean - even if it is just.. how we'd recognise it, we can still attack Jonah, or give them vital information.

MARTIN

(hum of agreement) Well, we're here now, so no point mulling it over anymore. You first.

[A DOOR OPENS. FOR A FEW MINUTES, SILENCE AS THEY WALK DOWN TO THE ARCHIVES.] [ANOTHER DOOR OPENS, PRESUMABLY THE ONE TO THE ARCHIVES.]

TIM

Uh- hey, you- need a visitors pass to be down here?

MARTIN

It's okay, we're just popping in for a minute. Jo- Elias has cleared us to be down here, you might find an email about it? Or he might not have sent it, you know how he is. (small, nervous chuckle)

TIM

(clearly suspicious) ..right.

[YET ANOTHER DOOR, PRESUMABLY THE ONE TO THE ARCHIVST’S OFFICE.]

JON

(confused) Erm.

MARTIN

(confident, but still confused underneath it) Sorry, hi, we're looking for the Head Archivist?

JEREMY “JERMA” ELBERTSON

(seemingly in the middle of something) Well, you- you found me! I-

[HE PAUSES IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SENTENCE.]

JERMA

Wh- Chat, why are you pogging?? Who are these people? What the hell is "J-Mart"? I- So sorry, they're- they're telling me to ask you about The Panopticon? I don't- I don't know what that is, uh.

[next bit by my qpp!!]

JON (increased confusion) Is that... What is that?

MARTIN (slightly accusatory) Are you streaming your job to Twitch?

JERMA Well it- Being an Archivist doesn't exactly pay the bills. I have to stay fed.

MARTIN Yeah, but- Twitch? You decided to do Twitch as a side-hustle?

[THE TWITCH CHAT IS PANNED OVER TO.]

CHAT POG pogchamp JMART lmao jerma broke BROKE BOY JERM gayboys gayboys BI KING lets goooooooo JMART :MonkaS: SHJDHWISJDIFHKUHDNWK according to all knwo laws of aviation ther HEY JMRA PREGNANT COMP LETS GOOOOOOO ARCHY BOY AND HIS LOVER ARE HERE what if we al im blue dabadeedabadie WOAHSDOFIUHHDSKHDF :omega_LUL:

[USER 4792047294 HAS BEEN BANNED BY GerryKeay_Gaming]

JON (exasperated) Gerry- Gerry Keay is on your livestream? Right now?

[Michael_Distorts WANTS TO SHARE SOMETHING] oh hey jon. youre visiting the archivist. nice. have fun.

JON (CONTD.) (exasperation increased) Mi- Michael Shelley? The Distortion? He’s on your livestream?

JERMA (after a pause of contemplation) Y- Yeah? They're just my mods? I mean sometimes th- they share things but not much more?

[MARTIN'S SANITY IS QUICKLY DRAINING]

& extra bonus bit of content, also by my qpp:

JERMA Alright Chat. I'm gonna raid Gerry since he's my best mod. Bye- Bye Chat!

[SOFT LULLING MUSIC PLAYS AS THE SCREEN SWITCHES TO GerryKeay_Gaming]

[GERRY IS PLAYING ANIMAL CROSSING: NEW HORIZONS. THERE IS A SMALL BIT OF TEXT BENEATH HIS WEBCAM READING “computer broke & now my music won’t work sorry lol”.]

GERRY (with intense fever) FUCK THESE TARANTULAS FUCK THEM I HATE THEM DIE.

18 notes · View notes

peterparker-pickedapepper · 3 years

Text

Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

———————————————————————

I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

———————————————————————

Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic.

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears.

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for.

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance.

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground.

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view.

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside.

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away.

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

———————————————————————

let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

#peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tony stark #mcufam #original character #marvel #the avengers #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker series #mcu series #tom holland series #stark reader

47 notes · View notes

apollostears · 4 years

Text

THICK GF [ k. namjoon ]

Request: nami with a thick, short, sassy, cute, natural haired goddess

group: bts

Pairing: namjoon x black!reader

Warning(s): swearing, lil freakness

A/N: soooo i have no idea how long this has been waiting to be done bc i’m dumb af and didn’t turn on notifications for this so this is done with extra TLC!!!!!

*gif not mine*

- namjoon is awkward as fuck, let’s make that clear. so him being with someone who’s lowkey bold is a good way to bring him out of his head.

- y’all balance eachother out so well!

- whenever the boys get around to teasing him, you’re there to shut that shit down (in a playful way) and go toe-to-toe with them every single time

- you are shorter than him by a good bit, so it’s always a little inside joke between the two of y’all (mainly him) about your height.

- nami is such a loving boyfriend all around. he loves how much smaller you are in height compared to him.

- definitely expect piggy back rides, no questions about them. nami will want to carry you no matter how much you weigh.

- speaking of weight, there’s some social stigmas surrounding height and weight, so since you’re on the shorter but thicker side of things, you might experience some moments of doubt.

- dating an idol isn’t easy, especially one as prominent and important as namjoon. when it came to your physical features, you were mostly confident and comfortable with yourself. but that was before you were exposed to millions of people at once.

- most people were chill about y’alls relationship, coming to the reality that the leader of BTS was his own person and that it really wasn’t their business who he dated, they respected y’all.

- however...there were some who weren’t real fans of BTS and a little more on the crazy side when it came to their attachment to the boys.

- they took any and every flaw they could find about you and exploited it. one of those things was your weight.

- you really tried not to pay any mind to it, nor tell nami about it because #hatersgonehate

- but at the end of the day, words hurt and there were times where you just felt like absolute shit.

- nami is an attentive person, so he noticed quickly that you were feeling down. he realized even quicker what you were feeling down about.

- and when i say mans was hot? he. was. hot!!!! jin had to prevent him from developing twitter fingers and calling everyone out who dared to say negative shit about and call themselves a fan in the same sentence.

- he was torn on what to do though. he loved you and all that came with you.

- your thighs were his home and your butt/boobies his pillows. your wide hips brought him comfort whenever he needed something to ground himself when he got stressed.

- every part of your body held meaning to him and it hurt him that you were hurt about the very thing that gave him comfort.

- he wanted to give you space because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but his need to console you overcame anything else and that’s exactly what he did.

- you took a minute to express your feelings about the situation, but nami was there to ease you into telling him your emotions.

- this led to a very passionate moment between y’all where he showed you just how much he appreciated your body.

- after that, you didn’t feel affected by their words in regards to your body. nami always did his best to show you how much you meant to him and it never failed to quell your fears.

- speaking of thickness, mans will use you like a pillow with no remorse!

- you sliding thru the studio for the day? expect him to wanna take naps on your chest or rest his head on your ass after rehearsals.

- nami loves to feel you sitting on his lap. your thighs bringing warmth and softness for him whenever he’s producing or recording.

- once jungkook tried to rest his head on your lap so that you could play in his hair and that was an instant no-no.

- you didn’t mind it, but nami was a little possessive of you and knew how charming their golden maknae could be. once jungkook had you under his spell, you would baby him for all of eternity.

- without hesistation, namjoon picked jungkook up and carefully dropped him next to jimin on the floor before taking his spot on your lap.

- jungkook was #jungshook and the boys laughed at his surprised face while nami just snuggled his head into your warm thighs.

- when it comes to your hair, he thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the world!!!

- he will watch you do your hair at any chance he gets.

- you doing a twist out? he’s there watching and on stand-by to hand you whatever you needed.

- dreading wash day? nami is there as moral support until you allow him to help out with your routine.

- trying to put your own wig on? nami is there ready to help you make sure it’s straight and secure.

- he becomes so involved with your hair that you notice when you have new hair products in your cabinet.

- “nami, where did these come from?” you ask him from the bathroom.

- your boyfriend peeps his head in with a gummy smile. “i saw that you were running out so i got you more. plus there was a new product out that i saw you looking at and i went ahead and bought it.”

- before you could even get on him for the amount of money he spent on these items, he’s dipped from the bathroom and out of sight.

- when it comes to your wigs, nami spends RACKS on them hoes omg!!!

- god forbid y’all break up because he really spoils the fuck out of you with the wigs he buys you.

- i’m talking QUALITY hair!!!

- you stopped asking about the price when you noticed that one of the wigs he bought you came from the same place Meg Thee Stallion gets hers.

- he quickly becomes a hairstylist ngl.

- nami is a gentle giant and after much practice, he gets good at doing the basic plait or cornrow to help you out.

- it’s rough being in a Country with barely any black people there to do your hair.

- but don’t be mistaken, he will be the type to fly out a black hairdresser ASAP just to spoil you.

- switching topics, but because you are a sassy little thing that mouth often gets you in trouble.

- sometimes you’ll be hanging with the boys and you’ll get into it with yoongi (playfully of course).

- nami will try to jump in and calm y’all down because you guys WILL go rounds and he doesn’t want that, but you’re quick to butt him out.

- “Aht aht, the adults are talking.” Is your favorite go-to line because it never fails to make nami surprised.

- the other boys try to hide their smirks, but nami knows that they’ll use that against him any chance they get.

- so, he’s gotta make an example out of you. if you catch my drift *wink wink*

- whilst in the middle of roasting min yoongi, namjoon will scoop yo ass up and take you to his room.

- no questions asked.

- the boys know wtf be going on and are always shook to know that their leader be getting down like that.

- you still act up every once in awhile, because dominant joon is a different animal but the same beast

- i think overall, namjoon being with a black s/o and a thick one at that, would be such a cultural reset.

- like y’all mfers are on the cover of every magazine and doing couple questions with Vogue and shit.

- jay-z totally invited y’all and the boys to a Roc Nation brunch, don’t @me.

- you guys’ relationship is nothing but positive and wholesome behavior that we love and support a hundred percent!

#kmimagines #ambw imagines #kpop imagines #black!reader #bts imagines #kim namjoon x black!reader #kim namjoon imagines #bts namjoon #namjoon headcanon #bts headcanons #mayawrites #requested #namjoon x black!reader #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon

385 notes · View notes

poptod · 3 years

Text

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 4 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: He needs to listen. He needs to understand.

Notes: i havent been able to write recently bc ive been spending a lot of time with my boytoy but hes off being a firefighter rn so ive just been nonstop writing and drawing. its ridiculous. i finished pt 3 and 4 in like three days. WC: 5.5k

There were less paintings in Thebes. White marble walls and pillars reigned supreme, a stark contrast from the colorful streets of Memphis. You decided not to bring it up, or at least not at the moment you realized it, as in that moment you were face to face with the mayor of Thebes. He was shaking Ahkmenrah's hand, a polite smile on his lips.

"It's good to see you again, Piye," Ahk said. You had to stop and go over the sentence again to make sure you heard it right. Piye wasn't on the same boat as yours, and wouldn't arrive for another day.

"As it is you, my King," the mayor replied.

A trail of servants, soldiers, and slaves passed both behind and in front of you, lugging the offerings to specific temples, and the royal belongings behind the Pharaoh. Haji was put to the use, as unfortunate as it was, and you couldn't help but apologize when he was asked to haul a massive reed basket full of dried dates.

"It's alright," he said, huffing with effort. "I've done this before. Not usually uphill, though."

"Sorry," you said again, wincing at the way sweat beaded on his forehead.

The massive block of shade casted by the royal house's overhang was a relief for those carrying items, and for Ahk as well, as this was his home-away-from-home. Images of Ahkmenrah remained painted across the walls, the only color in the crystal city. The Nile flowed steadily beside the house, short fences leading to a plentiful garden through which the water came, and date trees that grew taller than any building.

The mayor, who you slowly realized was also named Piye, left your group there with a bid for a good evening. Along with that, he invited the Pharaoh and you––his pet––to dinner with him and his family. You weren't sure how enjoyable that would be, but either way the decision was out of your hands.

Following Ahkmenrah, you found yourselves in a large room with a domed ceiling, tall arches framed by red curtains. Outside, trees rustled in the gentle wind with no hint of society. You silently cheered––it was better, you believed, to have a view of the land, rather than of the city.

"Tomorrow I shall take you on a true tour of the city," Ahk said, coming up behind you till his breath fell sudden on your shoulder. You jumped slightly, but arms around your waist stilled you, pulling you into an unfortunately familiar warmth. "How does that sound?"

You said nothing, staring into the silent night.

"We can go through the markets," he suggested, shifting so he held you tighter. "If you want for anything, I will give it to you. I'm sure you've gone through many markets unable to afford anything, so now's a chance to make up for some of that."

"... thank you," you said, very nearly whispered, as hesitance seized you fiercely. Giving into his words––you said you'd never do that. He was not threatening you in any way, so why would you try to please him?

"Are you tired yet?" He asked.

"Not especially," you said, voice still strained.

"How does a game of Senet sound, then?"

"I've... never heard of it," you said honestly, glancing to the side as your fingers fiddled with each other.

"Really? I think you'll quite like it. It's a game of wits and chance. Are you interested?"

You paused before saying, "sure."

He grinned, leaving you alone in the moonlit room as he raced to the servants bringing in his personal belongings. While you waited, you stared out the massive, pale arches, bright as the moon in the perfectly clear sky. Barely a breeze passed by, leaving the warm, humid climate to cling to your skin, slowing your breath as peace reached you. Thebes was nice––just not the city. The countryside was beautiful, and Ahkmenrah's home here was beautiful.

It was not hard for a room to be better than your previous room, tied up in the middle of inescapable stone walls, still you took special care to appreciate the freedom here. Yes, there was a large drop between the pristine upper floor and the ground, but that hardly mattered to you. By your reckoning, you could milk Ahkmenrah's affection for you. If he truly would not let you go, you might as well make the most of it, and earn whatever you longed for in your poorer life.

Steps echoing in the empty hall grew closer, leading to the creaking hinges of the large, wooden doors behind you. You turned, coming to see the Pharaoh grinning like a dope, entirely uncharacteristic for his royal attire.

"I brought my board from home, but I've got one here as well. Made of crystal and ivory, actually, but I don't like it as much as my wooden one," he said, rambling as he set the board down on the carpeted floor.

The board was presented as a tiny, rectangular table with black and red squares for the pieces to move on. Dark wood legs held up the board, within which was contained a drawer filled with the pieces, numbering two pairs of five. One style was a long pillar with a head on top, and the other was a round-base pyramid.

Over the course of the next couple minutes, Ahkmenrah explained the rules to you, how the pieces moved forward, and that whoever got all their pieces off first won. The basics were gone over, but you soon started without much knowledge on how to play. He taught as you went along, and soon you were truly playing, concentrated deeply on your strategy and how to win. There were a few different tactics you could try to slow down Ahk or speed yourself up, but as you grew engrossed in the game, you hardly noticed the smile spreading across the Pharaoh's face.

"You might actually beat me," he said as you took another one of his pieces, sending it back five paces.

"What, you didn't think I was smart enough at first?" You said with an almost sly grin.

"No, I – actually," he paused, "yes. Sorry. I might've underestimated you."

"Don't worry," you said, handing the dice to him. "You're not the first."

"Really?"

"I ran into this stand at one point. It was a man who took your coin and hid it under one of three cups, switched them all up, and asked you where the coins were. If you got it right, you were paid in double, and if you got it wrong, he took your money."

"Basic deal."

"Yes. I came as a young child, a stranger to the city. He thought I'd be easy prey, so he did his trick, but I noticed he was dropping the coins off the edge of the table and into his lap. So I pick-pocketed him for all the money he took from people."

"That... doesn't sound like he underestimated your smarts so much as underestimating your conniving."

"Perhaps so," you said, moving another one of your pieces to steal one of his, sending it back by three. "But for me, the two go hand in hand."

"I can see," he chuckled, his blush visible even in the moonlight.

After a long time spent finishing the game, as the last move off the board had to be an exact number, you won mostly by chance. Still you cheered, grinning satisfied as Ahk held his head low in failure. He chuckled though, his shoulders shaking with the silent laughter, bringing you great gratification.

"Where did you learn these tactics?"

"Ever been to Nubia?"

"A couple times," he said, looking to the side as he attempted to recall it. "My father was rather cruel to them, so I try not to visit too much. They don't really like the royal family."

"Understandably so," you said with crossed arms, watching him deftly pick up the pieces and cram them back in the drawer. "They memorized your father's military movements, and I assumed you learned your own tactics from him. Applying that to the fact that you're more passive aggressive than actually aggressive, I decided you'd probably be more on defensive, creating strong barriers instead of stealing my pieces."

"... Wow."

"You're also less likely to overcome my pieces because you're trying to gain my favor."

"Okay, I don't need an in depth analysis of my childhood and psyche," he said, holding his hand up but still laughing.

"You asked," you reminded him.

"I did. And I'd like to hear more, when I'm conscious enough to actually understand it," he said as he set away the board. He returned quickly to you, pulling you into a tight hug, before promptly releasing you with a kiss to your neck.

"Tired?"

"Mhm," he hummed, hand trailing down to tangle in yours.

Once affirmed of your presence, he led you along the barren, white floor, your reflections standing beneath you with chests pressed together. The plush of linen sheets and pillows caught you when he pushed you, and soon your body was cradled by the bed and overshadowed by the Pharaoh above you. Crownless, barren of cape or gold, and caught enraptured in your eyes.

As he loomed above you, seemingly caught in his adoration for you, you noted with much confusion that you were breathing normally. Your heart raced horribly in your chest, that still remained a constant sickness. Yet your muscles relaxed, sleepiness seeping into your bones, hypnotized by his loving gaze.

"You're cute," he said with a sudden, wide smile. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you put your hands on his face, pushing him away. He just laughed, falling over onto his back.

"Go to sleep," you told him, lying down on your side.

"Very well. But in the morning," he leaned over your turned shoulder, kissing your cheek, "be ready to be out in public with me."

His arms once more wrapped tight around your middle, tugging you into his heat as he tucked you under his chin. You had several questions, both concerning his statement and other things, but you decided to wait until tomorrow. Tears were budding in your eyes from your incessant yawning, and sleep was a blink away.

You dreamed of a lake that night––laced with lily pads, blue and purple petals sprouting from green buds. Inside each pocket full of pollen, a sun glowed and illuminated your searching fingers. A black stone sky towered above you, dark and cold with wind, creating a deep contrast between it and the warm water.

You awoke to a different stone sky, shaped in the same dome. This one was made of white quartz, carved delicately, and lit by the strength of the sun. Recognition came to you instantaneously, and you recalled the trip to Thebes and the game from the night before. The only difference was the absence of heat, of pressure on your waist, breath on your neck. Sitting up, you realized you were alone in the room. How rare a chance––unsupervised, with massive windows beside you that you could easily climb out of.

Before you could even think of how to act in the presence of such opportunity, the doors slowly opened, revealing Ahk with a tray in his hand. You furrowed your brow. Couldn't he have asked one of his servants to get that? Or in the very least, open the door for him.

"I have never claimed to be a chef. I want you to know that before you eat this," he said, which was a very alarming thing to be told before being presented a meal.

"Ummm..."

"That sounded bad. Let me restart. I am not a very good cook, but I did what I could."

"Why can't the chefs cook?"

"I'm not asking anyone to work during the Opet festival," he said with a frown, before calling out, "Naguib?!"

"Yeah?" He called back, footsteps soon nearing.

"What about him?" You asked.

"Oh, he's not here for work," Ahk said in a bright tone, looking over his shoulder to see Naguib entering the room.

"I'm just here to make sure he doesn't burn down the house," Naguib chuckled, leaning on the door frame.

"Yes, and thank you for that. Come here," Ahk said, motioning the servant either. He dutifully obeyed, and Ahk pulled out a small pouch, handing it to him. "Have fun."

"Thank you, sir," Naguib said, bowing to the King before ducking out.

"Funny little man, that," Ahk said once he was sure Naguib was out of sight.

"How so?" You asked, mildly amused at their antics.

"He's the only one who can switch readily between free time and work time. Not many people have that switch, you know," he said, turning back to you.

"Do you?"

"I like to think so. What do you think?" He raised himself to tower above you, his expression suddenly falling into a shadowed cold. "Can I put on the face of a King?"

That cocky bastard knew the answer perfectly well. A man so aware of his own emotions, of the way he carried himself, would obviously know about this aspect of himself. Many go their whole lives without ever cracking into who they truly are; but not the Pharaoh. He knew every crevice of himself, and he used it to his advantage. Every weakness hidden. Every strength glorified.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, a cocky smirk on his face as you emerged from your thoughts.

You frowned.

"Oh, don't pout now, pet," he cooed as his finger trailed down the side of your face. "Let's see how breakfast turned out, hmm?"

He soothed and gained your vice attention at once with that little motion, that little motion he'd used a number of times before. Like himself, he had taken it upon himself to know you, to understand why you reacted in certain ways just as much as how you reacted. His expression gave little of that information away, so instead you turned to the tray and scanned its' contents.

You first noticed the wooden bowl of dates, set off in the corner of the platter beside two slats of seared meat. In the middle of it all was the largest plate, upon which he had placed an array of stirfry vegetables, garnished with an anise flower. Two cups were set to the side, filled with a faintly yellow tea. You reached for that first, as you had no idea what it was, and curiosity was always your main concern.

"What is this?" You asked, scanning the drink thoroughly.

"Blue lotus tea. Couldn't find any stores of beer, and I wanted to show you the flower. It's quite helpful in a number of things, medicinally... and recreationally," he said, biting at his bottom lip as he took the other glass.

"So... a drug," you said, raising a single brow.

"You could say that," he said as he took a sip, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Why don't I trust you?"

"Because I'm untrustworthy," he said, winking.

In the end you did end up drinking the tea, and the honey stirred within the warm water had you finishing the entire cup. Along with that, the two of you ate the various dishes Ahk had made with the help of Naguib, finding most of them––in the very least––edible. The meat was definitely burnt, and the stirfry was a little heavy on the anise. Overall, not bad––you probably shouldn’t expect more than that from a Pharaoh who had been handfed all his life.

He dressed himself once all was said and done concerning breakfast, twirling in the mirror to scan every inch of his outfit. There was no effort within it to conceal his identity as Pharaoh––in fact, it was enlarged, prominent and obvious on every golden brace and silk thread imbued within it. A regal, tall crown made of gold and bearing a poised cobra ended it all off, concealing the soft brown curls atop his head.

A few questions remained on the tip of your tongue, waiting for your brain to decide it was the right time to ask. After a little while of holding back, you decided that the 'right' moment would never come, and asked your question forthwith.

"Why are we here again?" You asked, thoughtlessly rubbing the sheets between your thumb and forefinger.

"The Opet festival," he answered, preening his cape. "It's an event that celebrates the strength of the Pharaoh. It'll be my first... since my father gave up the throne. We pray and make offerings to Amun, and the commonfolk are welcomed to ask their own prayers upon Amun's statue. Perhaps you've noticed it?"

Ah. That would explain the 11 foot tall statue made of gold.

"We'll be celebrating wealth for a little while, but in a week we take the barge to Luxor, where we shall enter the temple of Amun, and hopefully converse with the Gods. Amun, specifically."

"Yeah, I gathered that much. So all that food... it's offerings for this God?"

"Some of it, yes. Everyone brings their own offerings, and as I am a man of plenty, I brought plenty of offerings. It is also our duty as the government and protector of the people to replenish my citizens' energy, and so much of that food is actually for those who travel days and weeks to pray at Amun's feet. You, and the worshippers of Amun, will be well-looked after," he said, taking your hands softly in his and coercing you to your feet.

"Is that how it's always been?"

"As long as I remember. It wavers with cruel leaders... but never really vanishes. Our magic is as important as night and day, essential as fruitful trees, and as entwined with our lives as water. It is hard to break the worship engrained in generations."

While he spoke, he began to undress you, pulling at the buttons and knots until the fabric fell from you. Off your shoulders, off your hips, down your arms, until the white linen pooled on the marble floor. Soon you stood naked before him, but he kept his eyes on yours. Never strayed from your given attention.

"I know you don't adhere to our religion. I want you to know I don't mind. I would not force you into anything, especially not something as controversially widespread as religion," he said, cocking his chin upwards with a smile.

He took your hand again and led you out of the room. Chill breeze brushed by your naked stomach, sending shivers down the sensitive skin so readily bared. Once you reached the main entrance room, he let go of your hand, kneeling to dig into one of the massive bags packed before the trip. Most of them had been dumped in the front room, as the servants and soldiers were tired and ready for sleep the night before.

You attempted to look over his shoulder, an endeavor that was fruitless as it was needless. Soon he found what he was looking for, and he turned to you, presenting it in his open arms.

"Your clothes. From before. I had them washed and packed," he said, handing them to you.

Everything was there. Your long, red vest coat, your skirt with the panel tied into the waist, your buttoned shirt with the collar raised high onto your neck. Things you didn't genuinely expect to see again, and certainly not in the same shape as before.

"Thank you," you murmured, brow furrowed as you flipped through the layers. Without haste you pulled on the skirt, settling into your stolen shirt and the long coat over it. The only thing missing was your weapon––a staff with two spikes hammered into the end. Not the greatest weapon, but it served you well.

"New places can make me nervous, and personally it helps when I have something familiar with me. So I understand why you wanted them back."

"Yes, it's... good to be back in my clothes. Your style is a little much for me," you confessed, remembering the dress with no coverage of your chest except the straps holding the skirt up. A skirt that was see through.

"That's alright. I'm confused by yours as well."

If you were told anything by the various Egyptians you'd met in your travels, it was that Egypt was hot. Always sunny. Always humid. As you looked upwards, wide eyes meeting the grey sky, you nearly jumped. It had been a while since you'd seen a fully overcast sky, where clouds blocked out the sun and the horizons.

"Hmm," Ahk hummed as the two of you left the tiny palace, his hand encasing yours.

"Is it usually like this here?" You asked, looking up to Ahk. To your surprise, you had to squint, the sun still shining bright, white light through the fog.

"No," he said, beginning to walk down the steps, and taking you with. "Actually, it's usually a tad warmer than Memphis. No problem. I'm sure it'll clear out before the ceremony. We've got a week, after all."

He took you into the unfamiliar streets, through graffitied walls until stone turned to marble, great pillars surrounding a massive circle market. Stalls of various types spiraled down into the middle, where a towering obelisk overlooked all trade. Indecipherable hieroglyphs lined each side, though the base of the black stone remained invisible, hidden behind wooden stalls.

Once you entered the center, you noted brick beneath your feet, black stones running into a spiral in the midst of the white bricks. If you followed the path of the black stones, you would find yourself in the center of the market. As tantalizing as that exploration sounded, your hand was firmly set in Ahk's palm, and he had different plans.

You must've passed by a dozen carts before he finally stopped, halting you before a wooden stand showcasing a number of scarves. Each held a sheerness so intricate that you could see straight through it. The seller noticed your amazement, an amazement that had to be common, as he knew exactly what had caught your attention.

"These are made out of silk from China. Wonderful seamstresses they have, there. So thin you may draw the whole shawl through a common ring," the seller said, thumbing through a couple before pulling a blood red scarf out from beneath the stack.

He pulled a ring off his finger, and with great care, threaded the whole scarf through it. Before you could even react to the performance, Ahk was pulling a handful of coins out of his purse and setting them on the counter. The seller grinned, thanked him for the purchase, and just like that the interaction was complete. Ahk took your hand once more and led you away, continuing through the outer ring of the market.

"Beautiful color, isn't it?" He said, watching the way it wrinkled and fell in his hand. You made to nod, but paused as his arms drew over your head, placing the scarf over your shoulders.

"This is yours," you tried to say, but he shushed you, tutting sweetly.

"It's yours. And it looks fantastic on you," he said with a smile, pulling your entwined hands to his lips, where he kissed the back of your hand.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying your best not to say anything. That's how this day would go––he would buy you anything you looked at, flaunt his wealth in your face, utterly spoiling you in front of a whole city. Already your face felt as though it were aflame, nervous eyes set fiercely on the ground in front of you.

Along the way, Ahk stopped at a few jewelry carts, where he bought you an array of golden bracelets, faience necklaces, and ivory rings. It wasn't long till there was barely any room left for new gifts, though you suspected that was his plan.

"Here," he said, pausing your stride with a hand on your chest. "One of my friends here in Thebes runs a bakery. He makes the best tiger rolls I've ever had."

Must be good considering how much of them he's had, you thought dully. As usual, you kept your thought to yourself, and followed Ahk inside without complaint.

You were no longer scared of Ahk, you realized, watching him greet his friend with a gusto you rarely ever saw. He was just... irritating. Annoyingly sweet, painfully perceptive, and desperate to earn your favor. The things he dragged you along to do with him were the worst––markets too crowded for your tastes, too rich and uptight for your liking, or boats that you clearly stated you were uncomfortable being on.

The only good part was that outside, he didn't pay as much attention to you. While sitting around in the palace, his hands wandered you constantly, eyes set unmoving upon your body. He memorized those curves, the dips, the intricate veins, and the way you moved in those long hours. Outside, he was preoccupied with other stimulus and left you mostly alone.

Bitterness settled on your tongue. Your old routine was entirely lost, cast to the wind by the Pharaoh's greedy hands. The routine you loved, that kept you sane, and more importantly, kept you moving.

"Do you want anything, Amoke?" Ahk asked, leaning in to speak more intimately. You, of course, shied away, but was mostly stopped by Ahk's hand on your upper arm.

"Um... no. I'm not very hungry," you mumbled, and though he paused to glare suspiciously at you, he relented.

"Alright," he said, kissing your forehead before rushing back to the counter.

With a bag of tiger rolls in hand you left, Ahk continuing to pull you along just as before. This time he did take you down the spiral, and as you passed each stall, you realized it was a conglomeration of different cultures; an amalgamation of the western world. Art from Mali caught your eye. You had gone through there a few times, and the style of their statues had always intrigued you.

The Pharaoh noted your interest, and paused to take you there. He let you decide what you wanted, payed for it in full, and complimented your taste.

"You have a good eye," he had said, "for the divine."

"The divine?" you repeated, looking down at the statue. The form of a plush woman lay in your hands, smooth stone showcasing wide hips, large breasts, and a tiny head.

"A woman, a mortal who creates life, is as close to Gods as we will ever be," he said, looking over your shoulder to scan the figure as well.

The crowd had yet to notice the golden fabric of a Pharaoh, but the singular citizens who did notice were shellshocked, and hadn't the right mind to react at all. Dumbfoundedness gave way the closer you got to the center of the market, and by the time the black pyre casted you entirely in shadow, people were bowing at the King's feet, murmuring astounded praise as he passed by.

You looked up to gauge Ahk's mindset, finding something that terrified you more than it should have; he was smiling. Self-satisfied, pride puffing out his chest, silently declaring their praise to be a necessity.

A man intoxicated by his own fumes is dangerous––you knew that all too well, and fear began to seep back into your image of him, sending mold that tore down your irritation and replaced it with nauseous anxiety. His hand holding yours was now an anchor that sank you into a bottomless sea, instead of the earlier annoyance.

The combination of your own growing panic and the increasingly loud and desperate voices of the crowd sent you into overdrive. Hands reached up from bowed heads to touch the face of Ahkmenrah, to feel his grace and holiness overtake their bodies. Prayers surrounded you, and with the Pharaoh preoccupied, you fell to the ground and crawled out of the mass of the black land's people.

Once free from the writhing confines, you left the market sniffling, headed for somewhere lonelier. You hated to rely on others to heal you, but for a moment you longed for Haji. He had been kind to you. He would understand. Ahkmenrah didn't, and he never would––you swore this to yourself, your back sliding down the graffitied wall of someone's home.

Hiding your face in your hands, you pressed your knees to your chest, and curled up tight. No one would bother you; you looked like a homeless person, after all.

"Amoke?" Came a soft voice from above you.

You didn't move.

"Let's get home," Ahk murmured, his hands slowly moving up your arms till he gracefully pulled you to your feet.

Your eyes, once hidden and blurred, now opened to the grey light of today.

Ahk had no clothes on.

That was the first thing you noticed. The second thing you noticed was that he was smiling apologetically at you, nervous tics appearing as he chewed on his lip.

"Why are you naked?" You asked in a pathetically weak voice.

"Well, um... it was a little hard to leave the crowd, so I removed all my identifiers. They'll probably steal my clothes, so, um.. hopefully Naguib packed my other nice outfit," he said, beginning the walk back home. You followed quickly behind, still going over his bare skin.

"You could've left your underwear on, you know," you said.

"Oh." He paused. "The thought hadn't occurred to me."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted as you trudged up the little hill. By the time you reached the doors of the tiny palace, the silence had stretched uncomfortably between you, and you were eager to hide away.

Ahk pulled the door open for you and said, "I'm sorry, by the way," before following after you and shutting the door behind him. The click of metal echoed in the empty, marble house, bouncing off the bare walls.

"For what?" You asked, unable to face him as your voice cracked.

"Bringing you to the market while I'm all dressed up. I knew I would get a lot of attention, but I didn't know how it would affect you," he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your head into his chest to hug you.

For a moment you were comforted, until you very abruptly realized that he was still naked. At that point you wriggled out of his grasp, though your plan backfired a little, as the moment you drew away your eyes scanned the entirety of him, from his feet to his head, and he ardently noticed your interest. Your panic had absorbed you so entirely that you hardly felt your cheeks burning with a bright red blush.

"I'll... go put some clothes on," he said with a smile, shaking his head.

He left you alone in the big, empty drawing room, occupied by a vacant kitchen on the far side of the house, and three bags of luggage laid haphazardly in the middle. Your steps that took you deeper into the walls echoed around you, causing you to move slow and careful.

Eventually you explored the whole of the room, finding a small door to the right of the entrance, one that led into a long pathway. The chill wind snuck through the thick hedges as you padded down the stone walkway, lines of sand between the rocks sticking to the bottom of your feet. Through the thin walls, you glimpsed a sliver of a garden, the sight of a white fountain bringing the sound of rushing water to you.

The fountain, alabaster centerpiece of the small garden, flowed with crystal clear water that pooled on the ground in such depth that lilies had sprouted from the bottom. Green pads floated on the cool water, and the blue lotus flowers were all closed up in the sun's absence. The trail that had led you there continued within it, circling the fountain, and ultimately leading to a small, sandstone gazebo.

You sat on the gazebo's step, elbow on your knee as you leaned your cheek on the palm of your hand. Here the wind was not as harsh, only occasionally brushing against your hair, though the cold had yet to cease. It was a good explanation for the silent garden, barren of animal life. No, this was a haven of silence, of loneliness, and of plants. Beautiful, quiet plants.

As many things as there were on your mind, there was nothing truly in your head. Abstract ideas and emotions relating to your position, to your relationship with Ahkmenrah, to the tired nerves burnt out from your earlier panic.

"It's a bit cold," Ahk murmured in his low voice, placing a blanket over your hunched shoulders.

You whirled around to see Ahkmenrah standing above you, fully clothed. With a slight huff he sat down beside you, settling onto the hard step, his thigh pressed to yours.

"I hate my life," you mumbled, falling and landing on Ahk. You could feel the way he tensed, how his breath caught in his throat at the given contact.

"I –"

"And it's all your fault," you said, face still hidden in his shoulder.

"... I know."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

50 notes · View notes

pocketramblr · 3 years

Text

Poll Results

Alright, that’s it, i’m tired of trying to sort the answers so yall just get the big list of all the free response answers to that quiz about ofa. be aware some are less safe for work than others.

memorable ones: OfA Snickerdoodle, I’d Give It To A Cat, So You Know Vore Right?, I’m in Love With Nana, Slicey Blood Oath, and Homoerotic Sword Fight

(My answer above is how I think it did happen, not how I want it to happen.) I personally think something along the lines of a Bruce Banner Jennifer Walker blood transfusion where the OFA holder doesn’t realize they’ve passed it on until later.

a tender kiss. perhaps loving. perhaps they're dying, and i already knew that they loved me, either platonically or otherwise, and we always knew that i'd be next. perhaps they tried so hard to make sure it never happened, and perhaps that tender kiss as an apology as much as it is a gift. sure sucks to be gay i guess

Peacefully? By doing the do and making it a wonderful moment of lovemaking and passing on the future.. If we're in the middle of battle you bet your freaking butt I want them to kiss me dramatically, tell me they love me, and then yeet me away as they turn back to the fight. Ow but relationship goals.

If we're not romantic because I am obsessed with the Duo Holders ship currently, blood works fine. Ingest it or have them pressing a bloody palm into a wound of mine *shrugs* Gotta pass it along somehow

Personally, I'd rather drink blood instead of hair. It feels less gross. But I'd pass it on as hair just to fuck with my successor

Hair or blood eating, but no touchy-touchy or whatever thx.

Probably a vial of blood so it’s easy and over quick

kiss 👉👈

i would like it to be blood from an already opened wound just cause it would probably less weird, ..........but knowing my luck and because irl my sister has attempted to feed me her baby teeth by shoving it to my lips and saying "eat", thats actually how i would get ofa. ( >:/ i have almost eaten at least two teeth this way because i thought she was being nice and giving me candy )

Consider: doing one of those blood oath things where you swear to be BFFs for eternity except now you also get a quirk out of it. But lbr kissing is way more romantic and you’ve made First/Second my new OTP, so I’ll stick with that for them. <3 But also, maybe to make the kiss option more romantic First thought something more along the lines of wishing he could give ~everything he has/all of himself~ to Second which counted as including his quirk, rather than specifically about giving him the power to defeat his brother?

This is going to sound gross but all ways of transferring DNA is. Just work up a sweat and have the other party drink it. It would probably be the best tasting option which is kinda a weird thing to think about. Nvm sweat doesn't contain DNA looked it up but I don't want to delete all of this so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe a scraping of skin cells

Honestly the hair is probably the way I'd want to go. That or blood. Like just swallowing it.

Look, i know realistically it was probably some desparate on-the-brink-of-death "please defeat my brother" thing and oo, magic he gets the quirk. But consider. First's last fight with afo. Second is holding his bleeding body, crying. First gently cups Second's cheek and pulls him into a bloody kiss before dying. Second pulls himself together just long enough to flip off afo, barely resisting the urge to absolutely slaughter him, knowing he would lose. He finds his successor and trains him to the best of his ability, determined to not lose another person he cared for

I mean like dead skin cells probably dont work right? Except hair works so thats not true. So like you totally could lick someone to get OFA. Like could you imagine the whole holding your hand over someones mouth to shut them up but they lick you and they somehow wind up with your quirk, like crazy. What must have been the trial and error with this stuff cause they must have kept passing it inbetween each other to figure out its dna right. How long did it take for them to realize. Like you’re eating breakfast and theres a hair in your food like ew and why am i stronger now. Overall, comedic timing for getting a quirk would be hilarious.

My apprentice lays broken and bloody beneath me as I cradle them in my arms, crying on to an open wound on their face praying the power will be enough to save them

little bit of skin like a hang nail just like put it in a sandwich and dont thing about it

Put it in my coffee.

If I received it from Nana then I would love to have received it via eating her out~ though for passing it on to others I think I would just either spit into their mouths or shove a bleeding finger down their throat until they swallow and then run and get myself killed by AfO while taunting him with "I DON'T HAVE YOUR BROTHER'S QUIRK ANYMORE! SUCK MY NON-EXISTENT DICK YOU LOSER!"

knock me out and just inject the blood. if i have to actively think abt ingesting someone elses dna im gonna yeet myself into the ocean. to pass it on i'll just spit in a cup (or in their mouth) bc im not gonna make someone eat my hair nor is anyone getting my blood

who in their right mind would trust me with a power like ofa 💀afo just looks at me funny the quirk is his. im not a mc for a reason

Sexy battle where I’m the villain, and randomly the hero thinks “I wish I could save you”. Boom I punch them with bloody knuckles and the quirk passes to me. Now the hero has to teach me how to be good again. Also we fall in love.

You know, I always assumed I would head canon it as something romantic until canon proved me wrong But these options are so varied - I had to choose the most Dramatic (tm) one As for my actual answer: a gentle kiss with full consent from both parties

I will bite a holder as a sign of affection. There's probably some dead skin cells in the arm I can swallow by accident. They are used to this and sometimes we switch the quirk around for funsies.

You know, I spent like 10 minutes trying to think of something original here, but knowing my shit luck some bastard would spit in my drink or something and cast upon me the Curse of Bone Breaking and/or.... y’know..... AFO...........

okay this is gonna sound weird but. consider this i marry a very lovely women. we are in much love. we get attacked by evil people because she is a good hero but plot twist. i am secretly her nemisis. the attackers are my minions. i wanted her to protect me because i am very smol but. my comrades were too mean. she is nearly dead. "take this" she says. she kisses me and i am one for all. fuck, i say internally, but i dont tell her. she dies in my arms. i run and become vigilante and take down my once comrades. all is not well. i die unsatisfied. i eventually pass it onto a cat in an alleyway because they are the only one who is with me when i get hit with a back alley sniper

Blood or just like. skin. You could use nail clippers to take a bit off from a really fleshy area, like just under the nail. It's that easy

Spit in my food like an underpaid fast food worker.

i have long hair so that would not be ideal, but blood seems kinda...unsanitary, but i guess it would be better if i was 100% positive i wouldn't pass on some sort of disease. so if that could be ascertained then like a few drops of blood in a glass of water or something and then down the hatch, bam ofa passed on. i know other folks are probably typing some nsfw stuff but just. no. keep it in your pants y'all.

Blood transfusion First, pick a hospital Second, steal all their blood Third, have the previous user donate their blood to that hospital Fourth, get into a major accident and need a blood transfusion near the hospital you robbed Fifth, hope either OfA will only pass onto you bc your the intended recipient, or that no one else needs a blood transfusion Sixth, get the transfusion Seventh, steal all of the previous users blood back Eigth, return all the other stolen blood Ninth, get new identities, this crime leaves DNA everywhere Tenth, die of a blood clot due to incompatible blood types (optional)

okay realistically bleeding into a cut or a drop of blood into water and drinking it would be easiest but like... what if somehow dna could be baked into like a muffin or cookie or something... like i know when cooking with wines and stuff the alcohol cooks away and evaporates out but is that process the same for like blood? like if you baked your blood into a cookie would traces of your dna still be there? basically i want an ofa cookie (snickerdoodle preferably)

no i like my bones

drink a drop of blood. it'd go down easier than hair

Something dramatic and desperate in the heat of battle like blood or something

First of all, I think First passed OfA as he was dying entirely on accident, because Second was badly (though not critically) injured and they'd been sort of dancing around each other's feelings and doubting their own worth, so First, knowing he was dying and that his brother was a petty bitch who would probably kill Second anyway because he knows that First cared about him, kisses Second with blood on his lips and his last thoughts before dying are about how he wants Second to have the strength to survive if his brother comes after him.

If I was given the option of getting OfA, I wouldn't take it. I'm a coward and being given something like that is a death sentence.

If it was forced, probably ingesting the previous users blood, because blood is a lot easier to choke down than hair.

If I already had it and had to pass it on, I would want it to be something suitably dramatic like collapsing on the doorstep of a trusted loved one and explaining with my dying breath who killed me and why and then raising my blood covered hand to their face like I was going to caress their cheek only for them to taste blood. They cry and try to get me take it back and when I finally die they swear vengeance over my slowly cooling corpse.

Pass it on in a non-life threatening scenario where I decide I actually don’t like the weird bone breaking power a random person gave me as they were dying and wish I could pass it to someone else and through a weird set of circumstances end up accidentally cooking some of my own hair into brownies I was making because I shed like a dog and passing it to my new neighbor I came to welcome to the neighborhood.

Either drinking a glass of milk with their saliva (no icky hair taste), or an epic sharing of blood while clasping hands like knights in a noble brotherhood!

not by eating all mights long ass hair thats for sure, why did he give midoriya one of the longest ones he had, he has shorter hair right there on the back of his head. not to mention the fact of like how i would prefer to recieve it or give it away which would be just, fucking sharing a pop or something and swaping it through the backwash??? less nasty than hair and not as weird as the other options for spit which is like straight up spitting in a drink or the other persons mouth outside of kissing. if someone told me i had to eat their hair i would straight up say no thanks, cheers for the fitness glow up tho homie

I want nana 2 kiss me, on.,, the m,,,.."#*(@÷out.h pretty lady.,

Q-tip to the inside of the cheek

Those blood pacts where you slice your hands open and do a little handshake thing. Not very creative, but idk it just appeals to me

Via consumption of blood, babey

I would want it to be with a maybe maybe not homoerotic sword fight in a Wendy's parking lot, preferably while we are both being impaled on each other's swords. The sweet pain of almost dying is a very intense moment to share isn't it?

Sweet love

Hair

If it's someone cute, a kiss. Otherwise I'd probably just swallow a hair with some water.

i'd just like. spit in their water bottle. if thats not enough dna i guess licking a paper cut it is. hair is bad idwa bc it doesn't digest and can get wrapped up in things. and like. im too aroace for kissing and such

Last option, cause first is sexy as hell

okay you know what vore is, right. and you know how blood and organ transfusions work? well...

Not at all, like?? I enjoy being alive and not having my body destroyed thank you. Literally everyone with OfA died young-ish or has suffered debilitating injuries bc of it. Like Midoriya's bones are powder, and we don't even need to go into All Might's medical history. Like thanks but no thanks no freaky dna ingestion 4 me

Had a open cut from a can lid and ofa holder had an open cut. While lamenting about fins a successor.

Blood

Assuming we can bypass the rules of canon, it would be funny as fuck is OFA was passed on by intentional physical contact. So yes, a smooch for First and Second (and Second and Third) but also. Bitchslap of destiny. Nana giving her protege one last hug. All Might ruffles Mido’s hair like a dad to pass it on. I’m sure you get it

Bleeding over an open wound

lil bit of spit in a milkshake.

I hold their hand Platonically but it's summer and we're both sweaty and they're a little loopy and having weird thoughts due to dehydration and heat lmao, literally hanging around anyone for any extended period of time guarantees you accidentally ingest SOME of their dna. Dead skin cells are floating through the air ~constantly~ and if you have a friend I promise you've inhaled their dead skin cells before. Have fun with that knowledge!!

ok so like deffo a kiss, but in canon people get weird biological urges for using their quirks, like bby Toga drinking bird blood. First has had a LOT of "spit in their drink" intrusive thoughts over the years. immediately post first-kiss he is mystified that his intrusive thoughts have disappeared entirely, but then BAM it seems that second has the stockpile now, and with it, a preoccupation with vampire lore

drink from the same water bottle?

“EAT THIS!”

Pass it on by making them lick my arm because that would make them rly uncomfortable, passed to me by spiting in my 20oz Red Bull and then chugging it

#aaaand done #this was going to be like. nicely organized in a couple different ways and i still might #but out of slots for that today so

20 notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 4 years

Text

i'm about to pass out but needed to write this - JATP + school headcanons

*disclaimer: I am only evaluating their attitudes and performance in what are considered "core" classes in my state. Idk if it is universal. These are also generalizations -- ik theres different types of math and science that they are taking

LUKE

He inspired this so we start with the king

ENGLISH CLASS: He excelled. Somehow, unknowingly, became his teacher's favorite. Did the homework for this class and ONLY this class. A+

MATH CLASS: B-/C+. Does not like math, hates it actually, never did the homework. Somehow averaged a B+/A- on tests and quizzes because he would have Reggie tutor him days before in preparation. Teacher always shocked at how he managed.

HISTORY CLASS: Did not do the homework, but still, like, paid attention?? Had it with all the guys so there were funny moments and events to associate with each lesson and lecture and somehow he remembered it. Again, did not do the homework. Maybe if he was super bored. C+/B-

SCIENCE CLASS: Skipped it most of the time. Would show up for labs and experiments even if he had no clue what was going on. Bobby tried to help but Luke was so uninterested lol, and the teacher was v boring!!! Not fun. D+

LANGUAGE: Took Spanish because its what everyone did??? He thought it would be the most useful but it ended up being such a mistake. He thought that English was complicated, but shit!!! Hard :(( Julie tried to revive his education but fails often (but hes really faking it bc he just wants to keep hearing her speak Spanish and try to teach him). D+/C-

JULIE

ENGLISH CLASS: Aces all of her essays. Emotionally attached to all of her female English teachers!! Sometimes her interpretations of the books are a little off but literally everyone's are. Loves English. A-/A

MATH CLASS: Gifted kid syndrome but only with math if that makes sense?? Got super ahead in elementary and middle school but now that shes in high school she barely knows what's going on and is running out of math classes to take because she was able to jump so much from middle to high school. Has to study the most for this one. Thank god for Reggie. B-

HISTORY CLASS: Could take it or leave it! Likes the subject but hates the teacher. Does well on tests to spite them. Doodles too much on her homework and it annoys the teacher v much. A-

SCIENCE CLASS: kinds vibes ngl??? Something kinds cool about it. Has Flynn in the class, a fun young science teacher, and they all just have a really good time. Julie never really liked science but with the right people and environment shes flourishing!!! A

LANGUAGE: Did not have to take one -- took a fluency exam in Spanish her freshman year. Has minor superiority complex every time Flynn complains about not knowing her language.

REGGIE

ENGLISH CLASS: Got distracted hella easily... Not very fun :( teacher didn't understand that he had ADHD and learned things in a different way. Luke tried to help him cheat on tests tho so he didnt have to repeat the class. D+/C-

MATH CLASS: GENIUS!?!?!?!? GENIUS. Literally took two math classes one year bc he could. Somehow it all made sense. Really loved how numbers were consistent and clearly right or wrong; not subjective. Teachers loved him because he was always kind and positive and brought a smile to everyones face. A+++

HISTORY CLASS: Did not suck at it??? Kinda cool stuff and fun times with his besties. Did better in the class than any of them. Teacher was a total prick tho and Reggie was also late because it was their period right after lunch and he was a slow eater and the teacher didnt allow food. Again: teacher was a prick. B+

SCIENCE CLASS: Enjoyed the labs and experiments, usually aced those because he has exceptional attention to detail. Everything else, not so much. Certain concepts were just very hard to grasp and he had a hard time creating ways to remember things. C+

LANGUAGE: He took French because he knew his mom took French when she was in high school and he thought she could help him and they could bond. That plan didn't really work out -- but he still did okay, even if his mom didn't pay attention. B-

ALEX

ENGLISH CLASS: In between Luke and Reggie -- read the books and retained most of the information, but the essays were not it. He really liked class discussions even though the teacher would tell him his interpretations were wrong (how do you interpret something incorrectly?? Art is up for interpretation?? He will never quite understand). B+/B-

MATH CLASS: Kill him. Least favorite class. Hates math and has hated math since his first lesson on fractions broke his spirit in third grade. Reggie helped him through most of it but shit really did not click. Did his best because his parents would be mad if he didn't. C-/C+

HISTORY CLASS: Very into history for some unknown reason??? The TA in the class was hot so he made sure to pay attention and make a good impression. He was often apologizing for the behavior of his bandmates. A+

SCIENCE CLASS: Did not hate it!!! Had the fun young new teacher instead of the same old dude that had been there for 20 years. She was really fun and sweet (and totally got the vibe he was gay and was super supportive)!!! He didnt quite understand everything but still worked his ass off. B+

LANGUAGE: French with Reggie because he thought it was a more romantic language. Quickly realized his mistake and switched to Spanish the next year. Realized his mistake again (the mistake being that he would be good at learning a new language) and stopped trying lol. C+

FLYNN

ENGLISH CLASS: Her essays are well written because Julie edits all of them. Like Alex, is always told that she is reading the text wrong?? The two of them bond mega over that. Just because she has a wider imagination does not mean she should be punished for it!!! B+

MATH CLASS: Geometry is her jam but algebra makes her wanna commit every degree of murder. Sometimes it clicks and sometimes it definitely does not. Probably dont ask her for help because shes awful at explaining things. B-

HISTORY CLASS: Hates it here!!!!!!!! She hates the curriculum, hates the lecturing, and constantly either feels bored or singled out in every lesson. Is advocating in the district for textbook and curriculum reform to include diverse and pan-ethnic studies. C-

SCIENCE CLASS: Her favorite class!!!!!! Loves everything about it. She isnt learning how the world works through history but instead through the facts of science. She feels invincible in the lab and like she has so much more to discover. She particularly enjoys astronomy. A+

LANGUAGE: Spanish so that Julie could help her out!!! Can barely utter more than 2 sentences in conversation but is perfect on paper and that's more than half of the battle. A-

#i made this on mobile so shes just long #jatp #julie and the phantoms

73 notes · View notes

bardicbird · 4 years

Text

hi I’m thinking about cad again and self projecting or whatever so I’m just gonna ramble on my thoughts abt his childhood and shit

(i don’t know if this is going to be especially triggering, but i am discussing my interpretation of his backstory, which includes)

//angst// //dissociation// and //weight mention/body image// so be safe :]

so like. this boy grew up as the ‘weird one’ in the family until his younger sister was born, and i take that to mean a couple different things. first of all: weak boy. we already know he had some troubles being born but like,, sir you are a stick. he’s also a lot paler than his siblings, and has the white hair. nothing to ,, alienate him exactly, but when you’re a very perceptive person like cad, you tend to latch onto small reactions and treat them like utmost truth. i have my own personal headcanons for his neurodivergency, but either way he definitely grew up a bit more offbeat than his family, leading him to sort of settle into a slightly muted version of himself. he wasn’t,,, hiding himself from them, or lying outright, but the really weird thoughts were pushed down and saved for when he was alone; he also ended up dying his hair.

being in a big family is weird, especially as the sensitive and perceptive kid. you tend to notice others emotional states easier, and because of that, end up trying to help in your own ways. but, when you’re the one always helping and being the ‘nice kid’, it’s hard to show your own vulnerablility. we know cad said he had a ‘small house’ (which. yeah gross) but i also take that to mean that he didn’t really get a lot of space to himself ! there wasn’t a lot of time to just. let himself go and feel something, especially with the push to meditate until tranquility, which is a lovely thing, but can also cause you to avoid problems instead of talking them out. it was a small house; someone would hear him if he cried.

and then, people started leaving. and cad, not the youngest but the one chosen to stay behind, was left alone. for ten years. he probably replied heavily on routines: tending to the grove, making tea, checking for any visitors, making more tea, grab something small to eat, check the status of the forest etc. of course, people did come to see him sometimes, but they were all mourning. the only contact he had with anyone (aside from the few ventures out for supplies) was with people who were depressed, angry, and needed his help to guide them. he spent all of his time either alone, or helping terribly sad people. he couldn’t even talk to the foliage, as it had slowly been corrupting.

spending your time around depressed people makes you depressed. especially as an empathetic and sensitive person. at some point, probably not too far into his isolation, he started running on auto pilot. tend the grove, make some tea, help people, sleep a few hours, wake up and do it all again tomorrow. when Taliesin introduced him as ‘not necessarily healthily thin’ i just,, whoo yeah that’s a boy who’s already naturally skinny, but forgets to eat because he’s literally. been alone for ten years... eventually, when the nein found him he seemed,, dissociated, to say the least. part of this is probably just cad’s general demeanor, but he was stopping halfway through sentences, switching topics, forgetting his own words. he wandered off some point in the middle of a conversation with nott to look for flowers. it was almost like he didn’t fully register that they were there, and when he did venture outside the grove? almost immediately got overwhelmed as hell.

and then he adjusted. gradually. he still isn’t fully comfortably in this group, but they feel like a family. a family that cad could be more truthful to than his own parents,, because, other people were offbeat here. they thought he was nice, and they needed his help. another group of mourners,, but this time it was a little different. he wanted to stick around, and the idea of going home, back to his family felt.. wrong. he loved his family, and he missed them, but he felt like a watered down version of himself before meeting the nein. if he had to go back, get used to the family routines again, be seen as the younger, weird brother would it feel right? he was needed, with the nein, they thought he was wise, and accomplished. something he never really felt at home.

I’m going to stop rambling now bc i feel like that’s enough for one post but god. i didn’t even talk about his relationship towards death, or how he views faith as an escapism from choice and consequences, because he’s so afraid that he’ll do something wrong so he just asks the wildmother instead .. can u tell I’m hyperfixated lmao

#long post #cr meta #caduceus meta #cr caduceus meta #caduceus clay #cr #critical role #m9

55 notes · View notes

lovely-ateez · 4 years

Text

For The First Time Pt.2~

ꕥPosted: 7/25/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Fluff

ꕥPairing: Fem!reader x Jongho

ꕥWord Count: ~1k

ꕥWarnings: None

ꕥA/N: I know this isn’t a popular series which makes me a little sad but I wanted to finish it anyway. If people end up liking it and it actually gets attention I might(?) make a part 3. It’s most likely gonna end here tho. Read part 1 also if you wouldn’t mind! Things will make a lot more sense if you do. You can do that here

ꕥA/N Cont: So even though I provided translations for some words, there is a phrase that I clarified in the middle of the writing bc I didn’t want to spoil anything

ꕥPhrase Guide:

你= You

加油 = You can do it (encouragement)

Jongho was surprisingly easy to talk to and we got along better than I thought we would. Not that I thought we wouldn’t get along, but I was still surprised.

After we had lunch together we exchanged numbers and began to hang out more, usually every couple days given our busy schedules.

He was so talkative that I found out almost everything about him in no time. He just turned 20, was a music major, and took Chinese because he wanted a challenge. He loved snow but hated the cold. Soccer was his favorite sport but he didn’t play often since he was always either studying or working as a tutor for underclassmen. He was born in Korea but grew up in America. Fluent in Korean but insecure enough about his American accent that he only spoke it with close friends and family. He met Mingi during a soccer camp he went to in middle school and his best friend - the guy with the mullet - was named Hongjoong and apparently much friendlier than he looked.

The more I spent time with Jongho, the more I realized I had feelings for him and the stronger they became. When Marina and I were alone in our dorm, I told her everything I was feeling and the response was exactly what I suspected.

“HA! KNEW IT!” Marina yelled, “I just won myself ten bucks.”

“I’m sorry, YOU WHAT?”

“I may or may not have made a bet with Mingi that you would catch feelings within three months of meeting Jongho. And you’re two days away from three months, girly.” She shrugged but kept the smile on her face.

“Oh my god you did not. Actually speaking of...what’s up with you two? Are you official yet?”

Marina went quiet for a moment then bit her lip, finally speaking up, “Well...not yet, technically, but we’ve seriously considered it. We have another date this weekend. Now all you have to do is get with Jongho and we can go on a double date.”

“Yeah I don’t know about that, M.”

“Y/n he totally likes you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No I know. He’s got a few tells so I know he feels at least a little something. I’m just not sure if I should commit to anything, you know?”

Marina let out a loud laugh before speaking again.

“Pfft no. I dated all throughout high school. If I’m being honest, though, I really think you should give it a chance. People always freak out about possibly ruining a friendship by confessing but honestly if a friendship can’t withstand a little crush then you probably weren’t solid friends in the first place.”

“You know what? You’re right. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah girl! Go get him!”

The next day arrived way too quickly. Although I told myself I would confess, I was getting anxious. I walked into Chinese class holding hands with Marina for emotional support. We were the first ones there, as always, so I had a bit of time to rant.

“I’ll be honest, M. I’ve never felt butterflies like this before. I’m actually shaking.” I lifted up my hand to show her my slight tremor.

“Oh sweetheart! It’ll be all good! Promise. Just take a few deep breaths.”

I slowly breathed in and out for the next several seconds.

“You’re right. I can do this.”

The trio walked into class several minutes later. Mingi gave a quick kiss to Marina and Jongho gave me a friendly smile. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the four of us and walked to his usual seat, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him.

The rest of the class filled in and soon our professor arrived.

The professor loudly clapped her hands, speaking up, “Alright class. Today I’m going to have you pair up in groups of two and work together. I don’t care who it’s with, as long as it’s with somebody. We’ve got an even number of students so we should be fine. I’ve got some games for you to play today.”

I turned to Marina but she was already halfway up the stairs to sit next to Mingi. I looked at Jongho but he motioned at Hongjoong, mouthing that he was sorry.

Okay. That’s fine. I thought. I’ll find someone else. Looking up I saw the unfamiliar young man standing in front of me. He blanked for a moment when I looked up at him.

“Hey! Uh...would you maybe want to be partners?”

“Are you sure? With the both of us together we’ll probably beat the whole class by a landslide.”

He laughed and sat down next to me, visibly more confident.

“I’m sure they can manage. I’m Tommy, by the way. You’re y/n, right?”

I nodded and smiled at him as we shook hands. I looked Tommy in the eyes and saw a slight blush on his cheeks. What I didn’t see; however, was the death stare Jongho was giving him.

The professor looked up and let out a laugh, pointing at Tommy and I.

“Yeah no way in hell am I letting that happen. You two are my best students and - no offense everyone - but no one would stand a chance against you two.”

“Ouch.” I heard Mingi say.

Jongho quickly stood up and raised his hand, “I’ll partner up with her!”

“Very good. Get on with it then.”

Tommy looked upset, making me feel bad for leaving him.

“Hey that’s okay, Tommy. Maybe next time?” I gave him a smile that he soon returned.

I walked up to Jongho, sitting next to him as Hongjoong sat down next to Tommy.

Jongho leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be honest, y/n. I’m really glad the teacher separated you two.”

“Yeah, I bet everyone is. We are the best in the class, no offense,” I laughed.

“Actually no I meant-“

“Alright class. I have talked in English for an unusually long time but in my defense, I was up basically all night grading essays so I’m running on two hours of sleep and a cappuccino. Nevertheless, I’ll now switch to Chinese. 加油.”

The first game was simple enough. The teacher wrote beginner to intermediate level phrases for us to translate. If we got it right, we got a point.

My team eventually won, beating Tommy and Hongjoong by a single point. Jongho really surprised me, getting almost as many questions right as I did.

Mingi and Marina ended up last because neither of them were paying attention, instead flirting with each other.

The second and final game was a little more complicated. We had to translate the sentence, as well as pronounce all the characters correctly. Tommy’s team was tied with mine until Jongho answered the last question correctly. I smiled at him and bounced in my seat.

“We won, Jongho!” I exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. He froze at first, but then put his arms around me and pulled me closer.

The professor spoke up once more, “We’re out of time for class today but remember you have a test next week. I expect you all to be studying!”

Our classmates soon left the room along with our teacher. Hongjoong quickly ran out to meet his new boyfriend - Seonghwa I think he said? - and Mingi and Marina were already gone. I assumed they left class sometime during the second game.

“Hey,” Jongho said to me as I was slipping on my backpack, “I was wondering if you could help me out with my writing in Chinese? Sometimes I mess up the stroke order and I could use the practice.”

“Sure! When do you want to study?”

“How about now?”

Jongho grabbed my arm and led me down to the whiteboard at the front of the class. I looked around at the empty classroom and nodded. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. He picked up a marker and began to write.

“I’ll write and you tell me if I make a mistake, okay?”

I laughed, “Sure, Jongho.”

As he started writing I didn’t see any mistakes. When he finished writing, I gasped.

“我喜欢你。你喜欢谁?”

[I like you. Who you you like?]

I smiled and took the marker from his hands, placing it back on the podium. I looked him in the eyes and cupped his face. “你” I said as I kissed him. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. He smiled and kissed me again, this time wrapping his arms around my waist.

We pulled back for air and I whispered, “You know, I was actually planning on telling you today, too. Marina encouraged me to tell you, but I guess I didn’t have to after all.”

“I mean you can still tell me, if you want.”

I gently kissed his cheek, “You already know how I feel.”

“Hmm. Actually I’m not quite sure. Could you clarify for me?” Jongho laughed when I playfully hit his arm.

“You know,” he continued, “when I said I was glad the teacher separated you earlier, I meant that I was glad you were away from Tommy. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I really didn’t like it. I got so nervous because even though I tease, this is the first time I’ve felt like this. So I guess the question is...will you let me take you on a date?”

“Absolutely!”

#ateez #ateez au #ateez smut #kpop #kpop smut #jongho #choi jongho #jongho fluff #jongho ateez #kpop imagines #yeetus #college au #imagines #ateez imagines #ateez atiny #atiny

68 notes · View notes