#yeah you fell in love with how compassionate she is but guess what this actually puts her in immediate and great danger
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currently obsessed with how the very thing fenris most admires in hawke becomes his greatest fear
#yeah you fell in love with how compassionate she is but guess what this actually puts her in immediate and great danger#and now suddenly she isn't so grand and strong as you thought she's facing stuff that's bigger than her and she might actually die#I'm sorry i love them omg
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it's alright, just wait and see, your string of lights is still bright to me ➝ emdy.
TAGGING ➝ Addy Corcoran, Emmy Corcoran (@emmycorcoran).
LOCATION ➝ Locked down at Table + Ice.
TIME FRAME ➝ 10/17, morning.
WARNINGS ➝ None.
SUMMARY ➝ Addy and Emmy reunite after being locked down separately; Emmy has an existential crisis.
ADDY CORCORAN
[Pulls Emmy into a tight hug.] Stiffen up all you want, this is happening. And you’re never leaving my side right before a natural disaster again.
EMMY CORCORAN
[Between her conversations with Mal, Amy, and weirdness between her and Natalie, it's too much. Emmy bursts into tears again and clings to Addy, trying not to drip on her shoulder.] I don't think I can do this without you, Adds.
ADDY CORCORAN
Whoa, hey. You’re never gonna, okay? I’m right here. [She smooths her hand through Emmy’s hair, trying to soothe her.] Did something happen? Or is this whole thing just really overwhelming?
EMMY CORCORAN
Oh... congratulations. I'm sorry. I made it about me. It's not about me. You're getting married! This is so exciting!
ADDY CORCORAN
Good news really travels, huh? [She chuckles.] We have plenty of time to talk about that. What’s gotten you so upset, Em. [Addy sits, then pats the space beside her.]
EMMY CORCORAN
No, it's silly.
ADDY CORCORAN
Tell me.
EMMY CORCORAN
I just-- I realized that I'm very alone.
ADDY CORCORAN
What do you mean?
EMMY CORCORAN
I think I'm the only person in the world who feels the way I do about life, and love, and everything else.
ADDY CORCORAN
I doubt that. How do you feel about it?
EMMY CORCORAN
I just thought I had someone who felt the same way I did and now i don’t and that’s hard for me.
ADDY CORCORAN
Yeah, that does sound hard. [Addy frowns.] I guess everyone feels differently in some way, right? I mean, the way you feel about it isn’t the same way I do, then the way, say, Mal feels about it isn’t the same way either of us does. It’s different for everyone. It’s unique but it doesn’t mean you’re alone, Em.
EMMY CORCORAN
I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. Like I thought I wasn’t the only one who would never get involved with someone. But then I found out they were involved with someone. Mal, actually. And it’s not about that? It’s about them having the confidence to go out and do it, and I… don’t.
ADDY CORCORAN
You’ve been involved with someone before. You’re planning to just never be involved with anyone again? You know I can try to help you with that, right? Confidence, getting out there.
EMMY CORCORAN
It’s just supposed to happen.
ADDY CORCORAN
What is? Feeling confident?
EMMY CORCORAN
Finding people.
ADDY CORCORAN
Not if you don’t put yourself out there.
EMMY CORCORAN
It's scary.
ADDY CORCORAN
Yeah, it really is. Dating is scary. But if you want to be with someone, it’s a necessary evil, you know?
EMMY CORCORAN
How did you meet Amy?
ADDY CORCORAN
Through Monica. We were friends first, remember? And I just ended up at a family thing with her and Amy was there.
EMMY CORCORAN
So you didn't really put yourself out there
ADDY CORCORAN
Not intentionally, no. But I thought she was gorgeous and I talked to her, and we built up a connection.
EMMY CORCORAN
So... you didn't put yourself out there, it just happened because you are a person who is open and kind and compassionate and charming and someone fell in love with you because of that.
ADDY CORCORAN
No. I didn’t put myself out there in the sense that I was looking for anyone. But I put in the work once I did meet her. That’s the important part. You don’t always have to be looking.
EMMY CORCORAN
Okay. I’ll give it a try, I guess.
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asdfghjkl yeah as if first actual scene with them wasn't just this: POV your colonizer is a ticktoker girl who has your stolen power but for some reason refuses to do anything herself and instead badgers you while you're trying to do your job
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my favorite post that has like bazillion notes and tumblr keeps reccing me goes like. after AQ ended neuvi fell to his knees, cried and apologized to furina and they went home and he apologized again and again and they talked about their feelings and how much they love each other
like. even not touching shipping shit. and the fact that why would he apologize? but like. bestie they didn't talk. not only canonically, but like on all characterization levels no way that awkward 'what are human emotions and why do they do them?'' dragon even tried. he went to her, told her that focalors told him everything and now furina is free, she was like ....oh. i'm so tired. i guess i'll go then....
and he was like ok if you ever need anything, please let me know, now i'll go see traveler, turned and left, feeling very compassionate and supportive of her and thinking she knows that he really meant it, while having flat face emoji expression.
every single take i see on neuvi and furina relationship is so bad and ignores actual context for 500 years of that relationship. do i have to do everything myself in this house.
#flashing#rhine talks#neuvi came to love humanity bc melusines like humans and want to live with them#im joking but like come on
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How TROS Failed Rey
These are just my opinions and from my personal perspective, if these things worked for you in the movie then cool, but this is why it was never going to work for me.
A Feminine Power Fantasy
Growing up in the 90s there wasn't a ton of media that had female lead characters. I grew up with strong female characters but they were often relegated to being the token girl of the group (see the Smurfette principle), the story was never centered around them and we never got to experience things from their point of view or really get to know their story. It felt like I was being asked to relate to male characters but boys were never asked or expected to relate to female characters.
Just as young boys see themselves as Luke, leading the adventure I also wanted to see myself as the main character. I wanted to have my own adventures.
When I first saw TFA, I went in knowing nothing about the movie. I had seen the OT and the Prequels as a kid and I had thought they were ok but I wasn't a huge Star Wars fan and in hindsight I really think this was due to the lack of female representation, Leia and Padme are great but I never really felt like I really got to know them as people. Not to mention that these characters are 2 women out of a cast that's predominantly male, it just seemed like the message LF was sending was that Star Wars is for boys, yeah girls can watch it if they want to but this isn't a series that is meant for you. So as you could guess I wasn't really expecting much from these new Star Wars movies, but I was pleasantly surprised.
I fell in love with Rey's character during those first 3 minutes of her introduction. During this brilliant example of “show don't tell,” story telling they were really able to convey so much about Rey's character and personality, I really began to care for her and felt like I understood her, as I could relate to her loneliness and isolation in my own way. And I was excited to see a story from a major fantasy/adventure franchise told from a feminine perspective. It felt like I was finally getting the representation I wanted to see.
So what happened? How did we go from Luke's line “And I will not be the Last Jedi” which is essentially him “passing the torch” to Rey, the next generation, to “One day I will earn your brother's saber?”
As if the saber didn't already choose her in the Force Awakens? Why did they decide that all of a sudden Rey was unworthy? Didn't Yoda say “that library held nothing that the girl Rey didn't already posses?” which yes was a clever way of saying that Rey already took the jedi texts with her but was also implying that she already had everything she needed within herself to be a jedi (courage, humility, compassion etc...). Why did they take a step backwards in the last movie in the franchise? Insisting that Rey needed to train, that she suddenly wasn't good enough?
I can't say for sure what happened to lead up to this point. Was it just that the creative team gave in to the pressuring of a loud minority of alt-right youtubers and bots. Were they relying on Reddit and Twitter for public opinion rather than doing actual marketing research? While I think that this was definitely a big factor I think there was just a general misunderstanding of the characters on Terrio's and JJ's part to begin with.
What Does Rey Want/Need?
To know where they went wrong, we have to ask ourselves who is Rey? All characters have a story goal, or the thing they want. By the end of the story the character will either get what they want after some struggles of course or learn that the thing that they want isn't what they need. So what does Rey want? To understand what she wants we have to first understand her wound or past experience that caused emotional pain and interferes with the character's life. Rey's wound stems from her abandonment. Along with the wound, comes the concept of the false lie. What is a lie that the character believes about themselves that we as the audience knows is untrue? Rey's lie is first, that her family is going to come back for her.
The other lie she tells herself is the belief that she is worthless because she was abandoned, as she tells everyone she meets “I'm no one“ or “I'm just a scavenger.”
When Daisy Ridley was asked in an interview why Rey says she's “No One.” Ridley says it's because our relationships to people define so much of who we are and without relationships then who are we? This makes sense considering that our parents are major influences in our development and in how we think about ourselves through much of our lives.
Rey seeks out parental figures, thinking that through them she'll figure out where she belongs. “Whoever you're waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back. But there's someone who still could. The Belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead.”
Rey initially believes that Maz is referring to Luke and when she later sets off to find him. She believe that he is going to be able to give her answers, and provide her with the belonging that she longs for, but Luke ultimately ends up disappointing her but finds comfort in her relationship with Ben.
This goes back to the idea that what Rey thinks she wants, Isn't necessarily what she needs. As JJ stated in the directors commentary of The Force Awakens, “So there was a very powerful idea that what she desperately wanted was belonging, which she’ll get, but just not how she expects.”
JJ and Terrio try to fullfill Rey's need through “found family” the family she finds with her friends and the resistance, but I think there is more to Rey's desire of wanting family that can't be satisfied by this alone. Finn, Poe, Leia are definitely a part of her journey in finding belonging but they're not the final piece to the puzzle. Otherwise she would have felt completely fulfilled by the end of The Last Jedi when she is on the Falcon surrounded by her friends.
I think part of Rey's desire for family, is also the desire to be understood, to be “seen.” Rey even tells Finn in TROS that “People keep telling me they know me. No one does.” We hear Ben's response in the trailer “But I do...” (which was cut from the movie)
Ben has always been shown to be the person who truly “sees” Rey. He sees even the aspects of herself that she doesn't like to acknowledge. Recognizing that her holding on to her parents is affecting her negatively and that if she really wants to “find herself” she needs to let go.
Which is why when Ben says “You have no place in this story. You're nothing. But not to me.” What is really being expressed is “I don't care about where you come from and I see you for who you are.”
This is why I believe that Ben was always suppose to be the final piece to the belonging Rey is searching for. As their narratives are intertwined. They both satisfy each others needs as characters, Rey's need to be seen for who she is and Ben's need for reconciliation and healing within his family.
Rey Palpatine
Rian Johnson said that when he began working on The Last Jedi, he wrote out all the character's names and next to them wrote what would be the hardest thing for that character to face. For Rey, this was that she needs to stand on her own two feet and define who she is for herself but JJ and Terrio seemed to have misunderstood this as Terrio states that,
“We also thought that Rey’s arc cannot be finished after Episode VIII. You can leave Episode VIII and say, “Well, now, Rey is content. She’s discovered her parents aren’t Skywalkers, or whatever, and that’s fine.” But so much of her personal story was about where she came from, what kept her on Jakku all those years and the trauma that shaped her. We see quite strongly in Episode VII that something mysterious and troubling happened to her. Although she did get some answers in Episode VIII, we didn’t feel that that story was over. We felt that there were still more questions in Rey’s head about where she came from and where she was going. So, that was the other big idea that we had to address in this film. Rian’s answer to, “What’s the worst news that Rey could receive?” was that she comes from junk traders, and that’s true. She does come from junk traders; we didn’t contradict that.”
Rey's conflict wasn't that she came from junk traders. Rey didn't care about “legacy.” Her conflict stemmed from her abandonment. Rey thinks she's “a nobody” not because of her parent's occupation or lineage but because she feels that she must be worthless because why else would her parents give her up? Rey learning that her parents sold her off for drinking money, that they didn't want her, was already a difficult and traumatic truth to overcome. Star Wars is a coming of age story, in the OT Luke grows from being a boy longing for adventure to discovering what it truly means to be a Jedi (following your principles and having a compassionate heart). Rey's journey is about letting go of childhood trauma and discovering her own independence.
It's also strange seeing as JJ had previously stated during The Force Awakens press tour that “I really feel that the assumption that any character needs to have inherited a certain number of midi-chlorians or needs to be part of a bloodline. It's not that I don't believe that as part of the canon, I'm just saying that at 11 years old that wasn't where my heart was. And so I respect and adhere to the canon but I also say that the Force has always seemed to me to be more inclusive and stronger than that.”
And there was still conflict for her to overcome. The one person who she felt truly understood her is now the supreme leader of the first order, will the resistance discover their connection? Will they see her as a traitor? All of this had the potential for great external and internal character conflict, but for some reason they didn't see this as conflict enough to sustain a whole movie?
Instead they gave Luke's character arc in the OT of having a dark side relative to Rey. “Discovering that you actually descended from your adoptive family’s greatest enemy, the same enemy who corrupted Anakin Skywalker and is responsible for the destruction of the Skywalker family in the first place, felt most devastating to us.” This doesn't make any sense to me as it feel like they just gave Rey Luke's internal conflict of being afraid of his dark side, I don't think this was ever a problem for Rey. In fact, in The Last Jedi she leapt into the dark side cave to face her darkness (her abandonment). Luke even says “You went straight to the dark and you didn't even try to stop yourself.”
The dark side cave in The Last Jedi was symbolic of Rey coming to terms with her darkness (the parts of herself she wants to hide). It relates back to Jungian psychology (which much of Star Wars is based on) that people can only become whole through understanding both the light and shadow aspects of their personality. So it doesn't make sense for Rey to be afraid of who she is in the final movie when she just finished a journey where she learned to accept who she was?
Rey Skywalker
Terrio says that the decision to have Rey take on the name “Skywalker” was a way to show that “you can choose your ancestry.” Which is not true and also a strange thing to say considering the trilogy started with this:
But even if this was just awkward phrasing and what Terrio meant to say was that she considers the Skywalkers her family. Does this make sense considering that she didn't have a great relationship with Luke to begin with?
I've seen it argued that she took the name as a way of honoring Leia but Leia never took the name or considered herself a Skywalker. Also this is another step backwards for Rey's character as The Last Jedi was trying to assert that Rey does not need to keep looking for parental figures to define herself.
So why must she be a Palpatine, a Skywalker and “all the jedi” anyways? I think this was done for two reasons, the first was because by killing Ben they were going to kill the last of the Skywalker family and they wanted to keep the name tied to the franchise, in case they need the characters for future projects down the line, so they just pushed it onto Rey. The second reason is that I think they were trying to appease the misogynists' who spent the last 4 years calling Rey a “Mary Sue” so they explained her power away through powerful male lineage. It just feels so weird to me, like the creators are saying that we should like Rey not because of who she is as a character but because of who she is in relation to all these other characters we know you like (Luke, Leia, all the jedi that use her as a vessel etc...)
Daisy Ridley has even expressed her frustration with the Rey's lineage debate multiple times, “I love that Rey is such a great character, they’re like: ‘No, no, she has to be… she has to be-’She’s her own person! Let her be her guys, let her live.
Yet even at the end of the final film poor Rey can't seem to catch a break as she's once again asked for her last name. She once again has to justify herself for just existing. Why are surnames suddenly so important in Star Wars now anyways? Shouldn't the correct answer be “just Rey,” now that she's come to accept who she is and where she's come from and shouldn't that be good enough? What happened to the message of anyone can be a hero? That you don't have to come from or align yourself with a powerful family legacy. That we all have the power to make a difference?
TROS seems to be constantly asking Rey to prove herself. And weirdly enough it reminds me in a strange meta way of my own experience being a woman in the fandom and being constantly asked to prove that I'm a “True fan�� (whatever the f@#% that means...) to prove that I'm worthy of consuming and participating in this content that male fans feel belongs solely to them.
In Conclusion
So what did our heroine gain in the end? Did she find family and belonging? No. So what does she have in the end? A yellow lightsaber (for merchandising purposes) and a surname of a dead family? I guess she finally has an answer to give all the nosey nellies, obsessed with ones pedigree that have suddenly popped up all over the galaxy.
It's not a satisfying ending for her, as she's basically right back where she started. Alone, in a desolate desert, once again staring face to face at an old woman (an old woman which at the start of the Force Awakens symbolized her fear of growing old and wasting away her life on Jakku).
Terrio states that this is not meant to indicate that Rey plans to stay here, “The very last thing Rey would do after all that is to go and live alone in a desert.” but when that is the last shot you chose to end the movie on then what is the audience suppose to think? The bigger issue however, is that Rey's ending holds no significance to her or her journey. Terrio says that “In our thinking, Rey goes back to Tatooine as a pilgrimage in honor of her two Skywalker masters. Leia’s childhood home, Alderaan, no longer exists, but Luke’s childhood home, Tatooine, does. Rey brings the sabers there to honor the Skywalker twins by laying them to rest — together, finally — where it all began.” Tatooine, the Lars homestead and the twin suns, don't mean anything to Rey. You know who did mean something to Rey? Who was the one person who understood her, who she had an intimate relationship with, who she explicitly states she wanted to be with? Ben. But he's gone too. But clearly a light saber and surname are more important. Again this all comes from a lack of caring for what Rey wants.
I just wish that the Sequel Trilogy had stayed Rey's trilogy, that she got to be a heroine in her own right not because she was a skywalker, or a palpatine or from some other powerful family. I will always love Rey but I will always hate what they did to her and I'm tired of people invalidating my feelings and telling me that it was a good ending or that it was empowering. I just want heroines to be taken as seriously and to have all the same privileges as male heroes. Let them stand on their own without connecting them back to every male hero in the franchise, let them be their own character, and finally just let them be human, let them fall in love and have relationships if they want to. Male heroes are never considered to be less of a hero for having a love interest, so why are female heroes? Basically what I got out of the Rise of Skywalker, was that it was created by a couple of guys that loved Luke and the OT and could care less about Rey and that's truly heart breaking.
#rey#rey nobody#reylo#ben solo#rey deserved better#rey deserves better#bring ben solo back#I love rey#aTROSity#just rey#reunite the dyad
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You Only Had to Ask
(don’t get used to this pace, guys, I still have a lot of big fics to work on, but I can have a little one shot here and there. As a treat)
Alright, @airi-p4, here’s your fix-it fic. 😘 I wasn’t really gonna because I wasn’t actually that upset about the ep, but then there was chatting and I got to thinking--and the rest of my thoughts are under the cut because--
Season 4 SPOILERS for Truth and Gang of Secrets
eta sorry guys I swear there was a cut there before I posted, all fixed now
Because if you can just talk someone out of an akumatization out of Friendship then why the hell can’t we just do it out of Love. If we’re going to arbitrarily decide (despite repeated, frequent evidence to the contrary) that appealing to the person under the akumatization is a thing that can actually work, then WHY THE HELL NOT, LET’S GO. Talk-no-jutsu for the win.
(not that I’m bitter)
Our scene picks up during the fight in Marinette’s room during Truth. I’m really terrible at action you guys so please forgive the obvious deficiencies in the fight-related stuff (especially the way I completely forgot about Phaero for 90% of this.
Oh and I fixed Chat a lil bit while I was at it.
***
She had to stop him. Ladybug steeled herself, and then ripped the belt off of her mouth. “Luka, please stop! You can stop this. I know you don’t want to do this. This isn’t how you wanted to find out! You told Marinette she could tell you everything or nothing, that she could be herself with you!”
“But she isn’t,” Truth snarled. “Tell me—”
She didn’t wait for the compulsion, answering quickly to keep him from specifying. “She is herself with you! Her best self! And she does trust you, but some secrets don’t belong to just one person!”
Truth sent Chat flying, and Ladybug had to dodge debris from his impact. “Luka,” Ladybug said desperately. “You helped me as Viperion. What did you tell your family and your friends after that?”
Truth visibly jolted. Hope rising, Ladybug persevered, listening with one ear as Chat tried to extract himself behind her. She held a hand behind her in a wait gesture. “What would you have told Marinette if you had to leave to become Viperion? Would you have lied to her?”
“No!” Truth yelled, grabbing his head in his hands. “No, I would never lie to Marinette—I—”
“But you wouldn’t break my trust, would you? You know how important it is to keep identities secret!” Ladybug pressed.
“I know,” Truth ground out. “But I can’t lie to Marinette!”
“So you wouldn’t lie to her,” Ladybug persisted, dodging a blast from Pharoah. She glanced at Chat and nodded a the orb, and he launched himself at the sentimonster with a yowl. “But you can’t tell her the truth, either, right? Because you don’t trust her?”
“No! I trust Marinette. I love her!” Truth growled, shaking his head, still in his hands. “Marinette wouldn’t be safe if she knew! I can’t put Marinette in danger. Or my family! I had to keep the secret.”
“So you can see that there are reasons why someone might not be able to tell the truth,” Ladybug cried. “It doesn’t mean Marinette doesn’t trust you! It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you! I’m sure she loves you very much, Luka, or she wouldn’t be trying so hard, even when she keeps failing.”
“I—” Truth gasped, and looked up at the wall above Ladybug’s head.
“Look, she has pictures of you,” Ladybug said quickly, throwing out a hand to point in a way that blocked some of the Adrien photos from view. “Look, tacked on top of all these others! Aww, cute, she put a heart on this one!”
Truth made a sound that might have been a sob, and fell to his knees. “Marinette,” he gasped, and the purple mask appeared over his face. “No,” he growled. “I won’t do this. Digging into her secrets won’t make her trust me any more than before!”
“Yes! Fight it, Luka, I know you can do it, you’re so strong.” Ladybug knelt in front of him. “Fight it for Marinette.”
“No,” Truth growled again, louder. “She chose me. I told her—anything—or nothing—and I. Don’t. Lie!” The mask shattered, the butterfly and feather burst from his necklace, and Truth slumped to the ground, becoming Luka as he collapsed. Ladybug’s yoyo whirred out and clapped shut around the butterfly and the feather as she sighed in relief.
Ladybug felt the compulsion lift from her as she released the purified butterfly, and quickly dropped back down beside Luka to scoop him up, tears in her eyes. “You did it,” she told him as she held him close. “You did it, Luka. I knew you could.”
Luka’s hand closed around her upper arm. “Marinette...I have to find her. I have to tell her...I’m so sorry…”
“She knows, Luka,” Ladybug said tenderly, smoothing the hair back from his face. “She’s fine. Now breathe. It’s going to be okay.” She rocked him a little bit. He was still shaking from the effort. She wiped tears from his face with her gloved fingers. “It’s been a rough day. I’m sorry.”
He rested against her for a moment, eyes closed, breathing deeply as he tried to ground himself.
“Ah, so, we’re done then?” Chat asked, tilting his head. “Because as much fun as we have together, I have someone—somewhere to be right now.”
“Go ahead Chat,” Ladybug smiled. “I’ve got this.” She threw her lucky charm in the air, still holding Luka with one arm, and the ladybugs swarmed through the city. Chat grinned, giving her his two fingered salute before leaping out of the skylight.
Ladybug waited a moment, listening, but Luka began to push away from her, trying to get up. “I have to find Marinette,” he said heavily, but Ladybug tugged him back.
“No, you don’t,” she said.
Luka frowned at her. “Yeah, I really do.”
Ladybug took his face in her hands and he blinked in surprise. “No,” Ladybug said quietly. “You really don’t. Because she’s right here.” She took a breath as Luka stared at her in confusion. “I’m tired of having to lie to the people I care about,” Ladybug quavered, and had to clear her throat. “And...I need help. I can’t do this all on my own. You’ve always been there for me, Luka. I absolutely trust you. And even though it’s dangerous, I…” She paused, steeling herself as she looked into his still-confused but compassionate eyes. His hand found her shoulder and gripped it, and she smiled. “Spots off,” she whispered, and closed her eyes against the pink glow of magic that engulfed her.
When she opened them again, Luka was still staring at her from between her hands. His eyes were like saucers.
“Oh,” he said weakly, and Marinette giggled. Slowly, she drew him forward, giving him time to back away, though he still seemed too stunned to move. His eyes flicked down to her lips just before she got too close to see anything else, and his lips formed to match hers as she pressed into him. It was nice, spreading a pleasant warmth through her—
All at once Luka came back to life. His arms wrapped tight around her, nothing like the cautious way he had held her while she cried. This time he pulled her close and curled around her, and his mouth began to move against hers in a way that sent thrills through her whole body, and just like that she went from the kisser to the kissee, bent slightly back in his arms as he kissed her again and again.
“You’re so amazing,” he gasped between kisses. “I thought i knew that, but—” The next kiss was harder, and his hand was buried in her hair, and she nearly felt dizzy from it. “You’ve been doing so much,” he said, mercifully pausing the kissing to pull back and look at her. “I’m so sorry, Marinette, I—I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” she whispered, curling up against him. “Me too, Luka. It was wrong of me to try and date you when I can barely keep it together as it is. I just...I wanted it to work so badly…”
“It will work,” Luka promised, guiding her head down to his shoulder. “We’ll make it work. Now, I know, and—um...hi…” He trailed off, and when Marinette peeked up at him, he was staring over her shoulder, his expression bewildered.
Marinette lifted her head and looked around to find they were encircled by the kwami.
“Oh,” she giggled. “I guess I, um...have some introductions to make.”
“I guess so,” Luka replied weakly. “Hey, Sass.”
Sass chuckled, and flew to perch on Luka’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Marinette pouted, poking Sass in the tummy. “We’re having a moment, here.”
“By all means,” Sass smirked. “Proccceed.”
Marinette pouted, but Luka just began to laugh, and leaned down to kiss the pout off her face.
“You heard him.” He grinned, and stroked a hand through her hair. “We have a lot to talk about, huh?” Then he froze, his gaze going distant.
“Luka?” Marinette put her hand on his cheek, and he looked back down at her.
“Jagged Stone’s my dad,” he said wonderingly, and when Marinette bit her lip and nodded, he added, “Shit.”
“Shh,” Marinette put her finger over his lips. “The last thing I need is for the kwami to learn to swear.”
“What makes you think we can’t already?” Xuppu snickered, and Marinette groaned, burying her head in Luka’s shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she mumbled, fingers curling in her hoodie.
“Not really,” Luka admitted, and she felt his big hands running over her back absently. “It’s a lot.” He sighed, and dropped a kiss on the top of her hair. “I probably need to get back to the Liberty. Seems like there are a few people I need to talk to.”
“Yeah.” Marinette lifted her head, and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. His eyes fell closed and he made a pleased noise in the back of his throat that she liked very much. “You should rest, too. So...kiss me goodbye, and we’ll talk about the rest of it after you deal with your family.”
Luka nodded. “I’m here if you need me, though. I mean it, Marinette. I know we haven’t had time to talk about the details, but this—” he glanced around at the kwamis who were still watching them like a favorite soap, “this is a lot. I’m yours first anytime you need to talk, okay?”
Marinette smiled broadly. “You’re mine.”
Luka snorted softly. “Like that’s news.”
Marinette giggled. “Shut up and kiss me you dork, and then I’ll take you home by Ladybug express.”
Luka frowned. “Shouldn’t I apologize to your parents first?”
Marinette reached up and ran her hands through his hair again, regarding his kiss-bruised lips with satisfaction. “I don’t think you’re especially presentable right now.”
Luka blushed, and she grinned wider. “Right,” he coughed. “Then, yes please.”
Some time later, Ladybug set a breathless Luka down on the Liberty’s deck. She was gone a moment later, and Luka stared after her with a dopey smile.
“Did you just make out with Ladybug?”
Luka jumped and turned to face his sister’s maybe-impressed stare.
“No! No way!” Luka—well, not exactly lied, because he hadn’t been kissing Ladybug. He’d been kissing Marinette, who was...Ladybug...his knees went weak and he had to sit down on a nearby rope spool. Trying to cover, he grinned up at Juleka. “Marinette and I made up.”
Juleka raised her eyebrows. “Made up, or made out?”
“Both,” Luka laughed. “She is my girlfriend after all.” He laughed harder at Juleka’s expression. “You didn’t notice?”
Juleka’s wide eyes said she hadn’t, but before she could answer, someone cleared their throat. Both siblings turned to find Jagged Stone standing sheepishly on their gangplank. He gave a little wave of his fingers, and Luka and Juleka exchanged a look.
“Well, this is gonna be a weird conversation,” Luka muttered under his breath.
Fiction Master Post
#quickspins#lukanette#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#miraculousladybug#miraculous ladybug#fix-it fic#quickfic#i didn't think i needed a fix it fic for truth until gang of secrets came out#*will smith pose* tada#pro lukamari
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Forever and Never
A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness
Word Count: 3194
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One: Hi, My Name Is
“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”
“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”
“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”
“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”
“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”
“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”
“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”
“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”
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Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.
So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.
My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.
Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.
I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.
Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.
Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?
Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.
Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.
Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.
Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.
One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.
Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.
My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,
“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”
“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”
“I thought she died.”
The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”
“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.
“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”
“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.
Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”
“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”
“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.
Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.
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Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit
#i am not okay with this#ianowt#stanley barber#stanley barber x reader#wyatt oleff#wyatt oleff x reader#i am not okay with this x reader#ianowt x reader#ianowt fanfic#ianowt stanley barber#forever and never
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Like A Disney Movie But Awkward
Abendrot
(n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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a/n: there have been so many delays(I’m so sorry), but this is the final part! I hope you enjoyed this series. It’s kinda wonky because it’s my first one but in the future, it’ll def get better. Let me know what pairing you want to see next!
Part 5 summary: (Y/N) can’t get the sunset or Cedric out of her head, so she asks him to go watch the sunset with her. Totally just like friends, right? After falling(literally) in love and a bit of advice from the twins, (Y/N) has everything she needs to confess. But will she? (I mean no shit it’s a happy ending)
pairing: cedric x fem!reader (in ravenclaw)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 1.1k
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The excitement that was brought along with the weekend and the quidditch games was gone when Monday struck through. Most teachers were understanding enough on Friday to lessen the workload, but Snape still assigned a 6-inch paragraph on Golpallot’s Third Law. The twins laughed at (Y/N) when they heard what homework Snape gave since they weren’t in Potions class anymore.
Cedric announced, well actually, scratch that. Cedric told the twins and (Y/N) that he was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament; Fred and George announced it to basically the entirety of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
“Maybe I should’ve kept it a secret until I actually entered.”
Cedric whispered to (Y/N), who was currently by the pond with the three boys.
“I think I would’ve been offended if you didn’t tell me.”
“Duly noted. Now, what are we supposed to do for Charms again?”
Chuckles rose and (Y/N) leaned over to check Cedric’s textbook.
“Since it’s water we’re handling, we need to research and take notes on a way to breathe underwater.”
Fred’s head suddenly popped up from the draft advertisement for Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes(3W), “That sounds cool, no? Breathing under water. I reckon we’ll have sprouted tails and gills if I try that spell. Do tell though; how do you cast the spell?”
Cedric laughed, “It sounds like you’re going to test that spell no matter what the consequences. I think there’s one about some sort of weed you have to eat, and maybe you can do transfiguration on yourself, or..”
The rest of the afternoon was spent on doing work and lazing around. (Y/N) had an idea about seeing the sunset again now that she fell in love with it. It was addicting.
(Y/N) tiptoed behind Cedric after spotting him outside near the courtyard. She quietly reached for his arms and suddenly shook him in hopes of scaring him. It worked, sort of..he turned around and jumped simultaneously, tripping over (Y/N) and landing on the floor, grasping her to prevent too much damage.
They both groaned as the pain shot through their backs, Cedric quickly scrambling off of (Y/N) to avoid her seeing his blush getting crushed by him.
“Ugh..remind me to never scare you again.”
They both laid on the grass, no energy to get up from the slightly too close situation they were in.
“Anyways..are you free tonight?”
Cedric cocked his head, turning to look at (Y/N) to see her already gazing at him.
“Um..except the fact that we have classes tomorrow and should probably sleep early, yeah I’m free. What do you have in mind?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to see the sunset… with me. I saw a glimpse yesterday during the game and I think I have a good spot to see the view. You up for it?”
“..Definitely. The sunsets near the quidditch pitch are one of a kind.”
“I know right?! Bring your broomstick.”
After finishing all her work and rushing out the Ravenclaw room when Kimball told her to use protection, she bumped into George and Fred.
“Woah, where are you going so quick?”
George dramatically pretended to faint. “Are you..sneaking out? Freddie, catch me. We’ve finally turned little Ms. Follow The Rules; I couldn’t be more proud.”
(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. “I might be..what’s it to you?”
“Ok defensive queen. We can’t find Diggory anywhere and we were about to ask you, but I think I know why he’s missing now. You guys finally confessed??”
Why is it so easy for her face to heat up?
“Oh, god no. We’re just going to see the sunset.”
“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if we joined you both, right?” Fred snickered.
“No! ..I mean.. ugh fine, you guys win. I want to tell him...”
“Aw look, she’s in love. Don’t worry, pretty boy is hooked on you.”
“Shush..I have to go…thanks.”
She zoomed past, thankful to get away from the boys towering over her intimidatingly. After a quick stop to the quidditch locker room, she met Cedric and they snuck out of the exit near the gardens.
“Where are we going?”
“Just follow me.”
Out of instinct, (Y/N) grabbed Cedric’s hand and pulled him towards the field. She mounted her broom and told Cedric to do the same. They flew to a hilltop not too far from the quidditch stands and heard chuckles behind her when Cedric found out what she was planning.
“Here’s the lucky spot; I think it’s high enough to see the sunset clearly.”
The sky had already become a mixture of the most compassionate shades of orange and blue. Cedric produced a blanket that was magically folded in his pocket and they sat, conscious of the closeness.
“It’s so ethereal… and weirdly calming.”
Cedric wanted to say that (Y/N) is way more ethereal and calming, but he kept it to himself.
The sun touched the horizon and started sinking into a sea of warm tones. Cedric glanced towards (Y/N), seeing the beauty in front of them as a reflection in her eyes. He wanted to tell her, so badly. But the fear of messing up everything held him back until his thoughts vanished when she turned her head towards him too.
“I’m cold.” (Y/N) grumped with a slight smile.
Cedric’s arms had an irreplaceable feeling to them and (Y/N) wished time would stop. She did have feelings for him anyways…
“Hey I have to tell you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“(Y/N)..I’ve wanted to tell you..but I don’t really know how to.”
“Can I say it first?”
“Wait what??”
“Wait, were you not going to say..oh my god did I misunderstand..shoot I- “
Frantic speeches were then cut off by a soft touch of lips. A simple warmth spread through both their bodies immediately into a rapid fire of feelings.
Cedric pulled away.
“So you were thinking the same thing as me.”
They both laughed as their cheeks heated up and they looked at the sky again. The sun has now almost completely disappeared into the dark abyss of mountains.
(Y/N) broke the silence. “You know, I thought of you during the game..and a lot of other times. *chuckles* Because the sunset kept coming up in my mind, and I remembered when you told me a word for this..view.”
“Is that why you wanted to come up here? I just thought you wanted a bigger gesture to say something..I’m just glad I had the same words in mind.”
“I like you. A lot. Sorry, I just wanted to say it.”
“I like you too. Way more than I thought earlier because I was scared, but now..yeah.”
(Y/N) grinned and a mutual understanding passed through their eyes; before wasting another second, they kissed again. Slowly and gently, as the sky turned darker.
Cedric whispered against her lips. “You’re my abendrot.”
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extra a/n: lol this was so much like a disney movie ending pls- I’m going to start writing angst,,,
#cedric x y/n#cedric diggory#cedric x reader#cedric imagine#cedric diggory fluff#abendrot series#fred weasley#george weasley#fred and george#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter masterlist#harry potter fluff#x y/n#cedric fanfiction#cedric#bts#harry potter series#cedric diggory series
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LIGHT A FIRE IN MY EYES | Owen Patrick Joyner
PAIRING(S): Charlie Gillespie’s sister!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner
WARNING(S): fluff, angst
WORDS: 3.4k
SUMMARY: where Y/N is charlie gillespie’s sister, and while living with him and owen, unexpected feelings rise up. (im so bad at these)
READER’S POV
A rhythmic knock on my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance. I push my glasses further up my nose and close my physics textbook, dropping my pencil between the pages to bookmark it. Pushing myself off the chair, I stretch my arms above my head – I’ve been sitting at my desk for about five hours now, trying to revise everything for my exam tomorrow. I walk over to my door, and unlock it, and I’m greeted by my brother, Charlie. He takes in my appearance and frowns.
“I thought you were still sleeping. When did you get up?”
“Uhh…” I trail off, looking behind me at the clock mounted on the wall opposite to me. 10:30 AM. “About 5, yeah.”
I turn back and notice my brother widening his eyes. “Are you okay, little one?”
I’m not a morning person, under no circumstances ever. Growing up, I’ve always been the last person to wake up – Charlie being the first. So, I guess it’s awfully unusual for him to hear this.
“This is college, honey. You wouldn’t know.” I shrug at him and he grins. I’ve always hated the fact that he got a free pass from college, since he’s an actor.
That is also the reason why he’s here. We grew up in Canada – Charlie, me, my two other older brothers and my twin sister Meghan. Growing up, Charlie, Meghan and I were inseparable – since we’re closer in age – Charlie’s only two years older than Meghan and me. But I had to leave home for college – I got into Caltech, and that was not an opportunity I was about to give up, even though Charlie protested so many times that I’m apparently the baby of the house and I shouldn’t go to another country alone.
Now, he’s living with me – he is shooting for his show, Julie and The Phantoms (proud sister, here), and they have a couple of scenes and some recording to do in LA, so he’s staying in my apartment for a week, along with his friend, co-star and roommate back in Vancouver, Owen. Previously, they lived with me for more than a month when they had to go through musical bootcamp or something for the sake of the show. (So proud.)
That was also when I’d developed a massive crush on Owen.
Charlie was living with me for a good two weeks when, one day, he took me out to meet the rest of the cast. (Who were all lovely, by the way.) On the drive there, he told me that Owen had been living in a hotel since he’s originally from Oklahoma, and that Charlie’s thinking of asking him to come live with us, if I was okay with that. Of course, I had said yes. I had ample space in my duplex apartment and living alone is boring. So, Charlie introduced me to Owen and we immediately hit it off. Of course, I thought that he was incredibly attractive when we met. But I meet a lot of attractive people at university.
Then, we started living together, and I realized how amazing Owen actually is. He’s an absolute dork – but he’s also funny, very kind, thoughtful, compassionate, altruistic and so, so nice. Both of us have a lot in common, and there’s always been this unsaid, unacknowledged chemistry between us that a lot of the other cast members had picked up on. (Not my brother, though. He would have killed Owen.) We had so much fun when we were together – he turned everything into an adventure. The best part was that I got to be myself, completely, whenever I was around him. I got to talk about whatever I wanted with him – he never, ever judged me.
Before they went to Vancouver when production for the show began, we had a last night out with the rest of the cast and a bunch of family members – except the kids. We went to this bar near my college. I was so, so drunk and then I suddenly started feeling queasy and Owen offered to take me home since Charlie was in the same position. There was so much traffic and Owen and I kept singing whatever song was on the radio to pass the time – LA traffic – when we were both leaning across our seats and we started kissing. I remember feeling like I would burst from the happiness and the softness, the affection, the admiration that he had in his eyes when he looked at me.
Of course, I fell asleep pretty soon after the traffic dissipated and woke up next morning to find him packing for his trip. That was when I’d realized that no matter how much I liked him, we could never be together. First of all, long distance relationships almost never work out, and secondly, he’s my brother’s best friend. That was why I chose to just give him a quick hug goodbye and head to college – without even bothering to drop them off at the airport, or even talking to him.
He texted and called a couple of times after that, too. But I never responded, never even opened any of his texts – because I knew that once I do that, I would definitely call him. That went on for a week, and the only time we spoke was when he’d texted me from Savannah’s phone: why are you ignoring me? I texted back all the reasons why we couldn’t ever be together, and I didn’t hear from him for another week, until Charlie called me the day before yesterday, telling me that they have a couple of scenes to do in LA, along with some recording stuff, and they’ll stay with me for a few days. I had to approve, or else Charlie might figure out everything.
They arrived yesterday, and I think that I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring him so far.
Charlie’s voice breaks me out of my train of thoughts. “You have exams or what?”
I nod. “Applied physics, tomorrow. Are you going out?” I ask, pointing at his dark blue jeans.
“Madi and I are writing this song together. You’ll love it.”
I smile at him. “If I’m not the first one to hear it –”
He hums, a chuckle escaping him. I lean against the doorframe, as he continues, “Owen just woke up. He doesn’t start his scenes until tomorrow, so I told him to take care of you today, while I’m away.”
I ignore the way my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name and flatten my lips. “I’m 19, Charlie, I can –”
“Take care of yourself, blah blah blah. I don’t care.”
I roll my eyes, and playfully shove him forward. He stumbles a few steps backwards and furrows his brows at me. “Ouch!”
“Are you taking my car?”
He nods. “Where –”
“In the magnetic key holder on the fridge.”
“Okay, sis.” He smiles at me, leaning forward to ruffle my hair – which makes it even messier than it already was. “Go away!” I grumble, trying to pat his hand away. “Never!” He calls out, turning toward the kitchen to grab the keys.
I shake my head and laugh. “Love you!”
He shouts back, without looking behind at me. “Love you most!”
****
The delicious smell of pancakes reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten since last night. I drag my feet to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for the person I’m about to encounter in there.
“Uh, hi…” I hesitantly call out, entering the kitchen – and notice a very shirtless Owen, with his very shirtless back turned towards me. He turns around at the sound of my voice, and a few strands of golden blonde hair fall across his eyes. I long to reach my hand across and push those away.
Instead, he himself does that as his eyes flit over me, and a look of pain flashes through his eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that.
“I was wondering how you would ignore me when we’re living in the same apartment.”
“I deserve that.” I walk over to the stove to stand beside him.
He ignores me and goes back to flipping golden brown pancakes which smell amazing, but all I can focus on is the curve of his back, the hollow space between his collarbones, and the way his hands grip on the pan a little too hard. I feel a warmth course through my body and find myself missing the way he used to wrap his arms around me from behind in the mornings when Charlie was still asleep.
“Owen,” I whisper, and he inhales sharply at that. “Please. I don’t want things to be like this – I don’t want us to be like this.”
He uses his spatula to lift the pancake and puts it atop other pancakes on a plate beside the stove and turns it off. He turns around to face me, biting his lip and I think I just had an aneurysm because of the intensity of his gaze.
He sighs, leaning against the counter. “Y/N. You made it pretty clear that there would never be an ‘us.’”
“I know. But we can still be friends, right? Like we were before… everything.”
“See, that’s the thing. I can’t. Y/N, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through for the past two weeks?” He snaps.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I reply, hotly. “Owen, it broke me inside to ask you to stay away. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”
“No! I don’t, because you don’t talk to me, Y/N.”
“I told you, there is no point in doing long distance –”
“That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it, too. I think you’re just too scared to be with me because you think that I’d break your heart, leave you alone or hurt you. But that’s the thing, Y/N – I won’t do any of that to you, because that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.” He crosses his arms across his chest.
I breathe out shakily, running a hand through my curls. “That’s not true –”
Owen scoffs. “Please, Y/N. I know you.”
I lower my eyes from his because I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me.
“Y/N, do you know how fucking hard the past week’s been for me? I can’t even talk to anyone about it, because the only person I wanna talk to is your brother and we all know what will happen if I do that. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been lying to him for weeks, pretending that I like this hairdresser, when in reality, I’m head over heels for his sister. I can’t tell him that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that she’s the only person that can calm me down when I get anxious on set. I can’t tell him that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s killing me inside to not talk to her!”
He finishes, breathing out heavily. I look at his eyes and notice that they’re gleaming.
“Wait, what hairdresser?”
He scoffs, annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N?”
I shrug and breathe deeply, trying to stop myself from taking his hands in my own. “You know, there are so many guys at school that ask me out, but I can’t go out with any of them, because guess what, they’re not you. I like you so much, Owen, so, so much, but I can’t do anything about it – because you’re right. I’m scared. I’m terrified that you’ll leave me, because I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not who you want anymore. I’m scared that maybe you’ll hurt me or meet someone else in Vancouver. I’m scared about so many things because that’s exactly how much I care about you, Owen!”
I take a step further and we are standing mere inches apart. I can feel him breathe out raggedly and see the curve of his nose and his darkened eyes flickering to my lips.
“I would never, ever do that to you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. Please, please believe me.” He whispers out, and I tell myself to stop, to turn back, to go into my room but instead I just stand there and watch him exhale out, and I know he’s feeling anxious. I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek in the palm of my hand and he leans his face onto my hand, resting his right hand over mine. The gesture calms the both of us down, and I know, in that moment, that I believe him. That he, us – is a risk worth taking.
“Your hands are so cold.” He whispers. I nod. “Yours are warm.”
Both of us stand there, in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what just happened – trying to hold on to this moment. A silence engulfs the both of us, as I sort through my thoughts.
“Owen,” I whisper. He flicks his eyes to mine. “Promise me you won’t do any of that.”
He raises his left hand, jutting out his little finger. I raise my other hand too, and he wraps his little finger around mine and whispers back, “Pinkie promise.”
“Okay.” I whisper, neither of us daring to uncurl our fingers or look anywhere else.
“Promise me that you wouldn’t leave me for some future tech billionaire.”
I scrunch my face up at that. “What? No!”
“Promise me you’d call –”
“Every single day, Owen. You too.”
Both of us nod together, and he lifts his other hand to tuck a curl that had previously escaped from my actually-messy-and-not-cute bun. “You’re so beautiful.”
I smile, and a tear escapes my eyes – Owen rubbing it away with his thumb. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes and rest my hands against his bare chest for support as I press my lips to his. He smiles against the kiss, and I feel as if a zoo has gone wild in my stomach. I feel warmth and happiness course through my veins as Owen deepens the kiss, the intense longing in the both of us for each other clawing its way out to the surface. It’s almost as if I’m drinking water for the first time in a week. He tastes like banana pancakes, chocolate syrup and everything good in the world. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around neck while he does the same around my torso. It frightens me a little how well our bodies fit against each other – but it makes me feel strong knowing that I have an amazing person who genuinely cares about me.
****
CHARLIE’S POV
Charlie unlocked the door to his sister’s apartment, mentally noting to remind her of the fact that her car desperately needs a wash. He enters the foyer, and drops the keys in a bowl, kicking off his shoes.
Suddenly, he pauses, noticing how incredibly quiet the apartment is – which is unlike Y/N. She always has music blasting or the TV running – she hates the quiet. He quickly walks into the living room and almost screams in surprise.
His little sister and his best friend are curled up on the sofa, their backs towards him. Y/N is lying on Owen’s chest and she has an arm wrapped around his torso while Owen’s arms are interlocked at the front, holding her against his body. Their tangled legs peek from underneath the quilt that Charlie and Y/N’s mother knit for her youngest daughter last Christmas. She laughs at something that Owen whispers into her ear, and he presses a kiss to her forehead, and they look at each other with so much adoration that Charlie has to look away.
He sighs, mentally cursing himself for being so, so stupid. How could he have ignored the signs? Charlie remembers Y/N and Owen meeting, both in a daze, both smiling a little too much and Y/N walking with a skip in her steps. He remembers them talking for hours on end, binging Brooklyn 99 on weekends, and always hanging out with each other whenever they went to the same parties. He remembers that morning three weeks ago when he’d woken up late, and gone to the kitchen only to find the duo springing apart from each other, both erupting in a flurry of coughs and laughs, as if he’d just walked on them robbing a bank – Owen had explained that he had apparently broken a glass. He remembers the way Owen would look at her, as if she had just done something miraculous. He remembers the way Y/N would look at his best friend, as if he was made of everything good in the world.
Most of all, he remembers how Owen sulked whenever he was alone back in Vancouver. He remembers how Owen constantly declined to go out with that cute hairdresser. He remembers how Owen sometimes seemed out of it. He remembers how Owen would sprint whenever Charlie called his sister. He remembers how Owen would keep checking his phone every few minutes in between takes.
Charlie also remembers his sister asking about how Owen is when they talked on the phone, and how her voice seemed like she was asking something that was forbidden, something that was evil. He remembers how she would always hang up the phone whenever she heard Owen’s voice. He remembers her always declining his invites to go to Vancouver.
How could he have been so dumb? The signs were right there. He lived with Owen, for god’s sake! Charlie feels an array of emotions. He’s always hated Y/N’s choice in men, despised anyone putting their hands on his baby sister’s body.
But, to see them like this – to see Y/N look so safe, so comfortable in Owen’s arms, he can’t help but feel relief flood into his system. Because he knows his best friend, and he knows what kind of person he is. And now, he thinks just how much sense they make together. Sure, Owen is kind of stupid, reckless, impulsive, and clumsy – but so is Y/N – well, she’s not stupid, he thinks. She’s the smartest person in their family. But she has a fire within her – and his best friend matches that fire. Charlie thinks of the fact that they complement each other so nicely, both are caring, passionate, and kind-hearted. Of course, they would fall for each other. It just makes so much sense – they make so much sense.
Still, Charlie feels hurt that neither of them bothered to tell him about it. (even though he won’t admit it, it’s understandable, really – considering the way he’s bugged his sister about her previous relationships.)
He clears his throat and the duo on the couch jump apart, both flushed and with their eyes widened. Owen stands up, moving away from couch, while Y/N looks at her brother as if he’s a ghost.
A silence falls over the apartment. Y/N finally says, “How’d you – how’d you get in?”
He shrugs. “I had a spare key.”
Owen looks between his girlfriend and his best friend, with widened eyes. “Charlie, I’m so sorry –”
Suddenly, Charlie laughs, swatting at the air. “Pfft. You think I’m gonna be the weird brother who kills his best friend for dating his sister? Come on, this isn’t a TV show. I’m actually really happy for you guys – I ignored all the signs these past weeks, but I see them now. Of course, it’s really weird for me, but I love the both of you so much. Owen, relax, I’m not gonna kill you. Dude. Just don’t kiss or anything in front of me, cause that’s gross. Ew. You know what, don’t do that at all. And I’ll kill you, Owen, if you ever hurt her, I swear. I’ll put poison in your waffles. I just don’t understand why –”
Charlie is cut off by his sister tackling him in a hug. He wraps his arms around her body, as she whispers, “I love you, big brother.”
He murmurs, “Love you most, little one.” He catches Owen’s eye who looks at him with gratefulness and a little smile.
****
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Stockings (S.R.)
Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3000
Summary: You just wanted to decorate the apartment for a bit, you swear.
It wasn’t your fault that it was impossible to stay with your mind out of the gutter for longer than five minutes whenever Steve was around.
A/N: No knowledge of Attached needed I think 😉 Feel free to read as a standalone, you’ll find it in my masterlist as both.
A/N 2: For @wonderlandmind4 ‘s challenge. Congrats on your follower count and for coming up with this awesome challenge!
Prompt: “Those - weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-“ (bold in text)
Warnings: suggestive themes, implied smut with tiny bit of action so 18+, nsfw, language (always), and one (1) trope that has definitely been used before
Series masterlist
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
When the idea of decorating first flashed through your mind, it was, honest to God, completely innocent.
Due to loads of schoolwork, Halloween somehow passed by and you barely noticed, the most festive thing you had done being the indulgent orders of pumpkin spiced lattés and hogging some of the candy for your exam time stress-eating. Candy which just happened to be shaped like spiders, snakes, witches and other lovely stuff.
But that was it and with ditching the spooky holiday and the Thanksgiving which no one in your apartment was allowed to talk about, you itched to celebrate at least one of the holidays in peace and with everything that belonged with it.
Gifts, obviously.
Baking, perhaps.
Decorations, absolutely.
Last year, you and Penny had gone a bit overboard, fully affected by the holiday madness, and bought half the store (well, as much as your financial situation allowed anyway). Your dorm room looked as if Santa puked there, as Penny elaborately put it, but you both adored it.
Now, with Steve, you knew you had to be considerably more restrained.
Not that he would notice if your apartment turned into a damn Santa village, because he was too preoccupied with grading midterm papers. Non-stop, it seemed. The pile never ever appeared to be reducing.
However, you and Steve had set a rule that even if you were both crazy busy, you’d make time for at least one or two evenings together – simply to take few moments to fully appreciate each other’s company.
That night, Steve’s mind wandered despite trying to stay focused on you, you could tell. You felt for him, you truly did… but you missed him. Your time together, truly together, became so rare lately and--- you didn’t want to end up like the couple that kisses goodnight and good-morning just because they share quarters and a bed, and ignores one another for the rest of the day.
Rather than letting the gloomy thoughts consume you though, you tried a different approach; humour.
After all, that was how your relationship had started, along with loads of awkwardness.
“Penny says hi, by the way,” you said casually, practically feeling Steve’s absence despite his body engulfing you as you cuddled on the couch, movie on your laptop playing in the background which neither of you were watching.
Steve hummed, his fingers never ceasing the comforting strokes on your arm.
You adored him, you did – which really was the reason why you couldn’t but mess with him, tease him for his mental trip to the far-away lands.
“She and Bucky hooked up again.”
“Mm.”
“She still claims he was the best she ever had.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Steve muttered, almost as if he was actually listening to you.
“I’m meeting them tomorrow both, because they offered me a threesome.”
“That’s nice.”
The corners of your lips twitched. God, Steve was lucky to have you to take his mind off his job sometimes, otherwise he would work himself into the ground with how much of his brain space was filled with university matters. He was so detached from life sometimes…
“Bucky asked if he could film it, do you think I should say yes?”
“Whatever you think—wait WHAT?!” he cried out, sitting up straight, hence pushing you up too since you had been nestled on his chest.
Giggles erupted from your throat as you watched his perplexed and scandalized face, realization slowly dawning on him as he probably went over the last few sentences that left your mouth – and his expression gradually melted into an apologetic one, blending into exhaustion as he ran his hand down his face.
You cupped his cheeks then, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead – you would swear it was a fraction hotter than normal, his poor brain overheating – and stifled the aww threatening to spill when Steve closed his eyes contentedly, a hum vibrating in his chest.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your lips chastely before wrapping his arms around you to hold you close again, face nuzzling your hair. “I’m listening now.”
You curled into his warmth, much more welcoming than the comforter wrapped around you.
“It’s okay, Stevie. I know you’re tired. We’ll just call it a night.”
“But you wanted to talk about something?” he protested softly, earning a hum in affirmation.
“Just wanted to ask if you’d be okay with me decorating the apartment? Just a bit, to bring a piece of the Christmas spirit in here?”
You could feel his smile against your scalp as his thumb caressed your shoulders blades, his large form shifting for a bit.
“We both live here, sweetheart,” he reminded you and you made a tiny sound of protest. Yes, he was correct, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t consult him on stuff before messing with the interior, even if it was with the best intentions. Duh. “But I appreciate you asking. Decorations, huh?”
You withdrew, meeting his tired eyes with a barely-there twinkle. You smiled at up at him innocently, showing him a tiny space between your thumb and index finger.
“Just a little bit. Just the basics…”
“Uh-huh. The basics. So that’s what? Christmas lights, stockings, mistletoe, a tree?” he mused, his thumb moving to your chin, to your lower lip, brushing it tenderly as you nodded minutely with a smile. His irises lit up a fraction with that image he must have painted in his mind and you felt familiar warmth around your heart at the sight. “I guess we’ll have to talk about getting a tree then. But it sounds nice, babygirl. The mistletoe in particular.”
He proceeded to capture that lips with his, lazy but indulgent kiss that sent pleasant sparkles down your spine and yet made you sleepy as it was soothing, feeling like home.
“Yeah. Sounds nice,” you echoed dreamily, meeting his lips again in a short kiss before nudging him to stand up so you could begin to move to bed.
Only later it occurred to you just how nice you could do with the stuff Steve had mentioned if you tried – and you fell asleep in his arms, a menacing grin that would make Grinch green with envy on your lips.
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
Carrying the box after hanging one mistletoe branchlet in the kitchen along with very few fairy lights in the window, you were ready to move onto the bedroom, where Steve was, again, working.
Not for long, you hoped – after all, you put notable effort into your appearance.
With a small smirk on your lips, you knocked on the separating wall, peeking from behind it, trying your best not reveal too much.
Steve didn’t even bother looking up, a semi-loud hum the only sign of him acknowledging your presence.
“I’m gonna decorate this room… you mind me messing around for a bit?” you asked, attempting to sound compassionate about his workload, which you were, and perfectly innocent, which you were not.
That got him eye you briefly, an unconvincing smile passing his lips.
“Sure, go ahead,” he encouraged you softly. He turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk and started writing notes before you could even respond – hence missing your victorious smile.
“Thanks!”
You gleefully walked in, steps soundless against the floor thanks to the thin fabric covering your soles, and placed the box on your own desk.
The rustle of papers and the sudden lack of scribbling sound had you biting your cheek so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.
Steve cleared his throat loudly; when you looked at him over your shoulder however, he went back to reading his damn papers.
You swallowed your disappointment, trying not to think much of it – Steve could be very patient when he wanted to be – or very impulsive. And sometimes, he was both at the same time.
So you pressed your lips together and removed the other branchlet of mistletoe from the top of the box, following with Christmas lights, putting whatever you needed on the desk.
“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice sounded from his seat, partly amused, partly… hoarse, affected, and you had to bite your lips so the giggles wouldn’t spill out. “What are you wearing?”
You turned to him, making a show of checking your outfit, letting your palms sprawl over your barely covered thighs and slowly moving them up, the hem of Steve’s loose ivory sweater hiking up an inch and revealing the lace of your thigh-high crimson stockings; perhaps even offering a peek of the straps holding them in place due to the garter belt.
“Your old sweater… and stockings,” you offered with a one-shoulder shrug, cool as cucumber in December – or as yourself teasing your loveable boyfriend at the end of November – on the outside, giddy on the inside as his gaze trailed all over your figure, wavering at the lace and the patch of skin on display, before focusing on your face.
“Those-- those weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-- when I, uhm, talked about decorating this place,” he explained.
He sounded almost patient, as if it wasn’t clear as day. His irises, however, were not clear – a cloud of desire covered them, turning them a shade darker, hungrier.
It sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, heat pooling in your belly, satisfaction at inching closer to your goal causing your chest nearly puff with pride.
“Oh, my bad!” you exclaimed, chuckling self-depreciatingly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you eyed Steve from under your eyelashes, picture perfect of innocence… not. “Silly me! I’m sorry, I know how much you hate me in stockings…”
“Babygirl…”
His voice resembled a growl, a low warning not to toy with him – which was exactly what you did want to do, teasing him shamelessly when having added emphasis on him not liking your attire.
Stockings and/or his clothes on you got your boyfriend going in fact, sometimes for hours even, thank you very much.
“Yes, Steve?”
“This isn’t going to work, you know. I really have to finish these,” he stated and you most definitely didn’t imagine the impatience and his dislike towards his task sneaking into his voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. These are just…” you bit gently on your lower lip, sliding your palms up and down your thighs, Steve’s gaze following the motion instinctively, pupils dilating with the craving to replace your hands with his own, “…comfy, just like your sweater. You never minded when I borrowed it before—you know I love stealing it. It just… it smells like you and it’s warm. It’s like you’re all over me. It’s perfect.”
His glare zeroed on your mouth, slightly accented by a natural, yet visible shade of your lipstick. Steve didn’t say a word, simply staring – and shifting slightly in his seat, much to your glee, which hopefully didn’t show too much – and grumbling an unidentifiable noise.
You felt for him, you truly did – god knew that sometimes, you were overwhelmed with schoolwork too – but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him sweetly now, adding an apologetic tone to your next words.
“Sorry. I talk too much. Don’t let me disturb you. You have work to do and so do I. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”
Then you spun on your heels and went back to continue your previous activity, laying out decorations on your desk.
Steve only grunted behind you, but you could hear him as he started going through the papers again, probably trying – and hopefully failing – to ignore your presence.
It wasn’t that you wanted to be mean, there was no single drop of malice in your plan; Steve needed to get his head off his work for a bit, even if he wasn’t aware of it. The way he was overworking himself was beginning to threaten to his sanity.
You simply wanted to help and this was just the way that had crossed your mind first; it was entirely on Steve and his stupidly perfect everything that you couldn’t seem to get your head out of the gutter sometimes when in his presence.
You wished nothing more than for him to turn off his brain… and to relax and enjoy himself.
Clearly, he was enjoying the view indeed.
You caught his sharp inhale when you accidentally dropped a tacky plastic Santa and proceeded to bend over to pick it up… offering Steve a perfect view of your rear and revealing the smart garter belt you wore; with nothing as much as a thong, leaving your most intimate areas bare.
You heard him shuffling in the chair and had to smirk, mentally counting down the time until his resolve broke.
He was holding up quite bravely – nearly long enough to make you doubt your ability to seduce him. Except the shuffle of papers that followed sounded as if he was trying to make a point and you knew that the breaking point was on horizon.
So when the time came to set in motion what you assumed would be the final strike – pushing the chair from your desk to the middle of the room to get ready to put your stockings on display right in his natural line of vision – you delicately took the branchlet of mistletoe with you, climbing up and carefully tying it to the lamp.
Steve’s pen hit the desk with a click and you quickly shot him a glance, meeting his stern and yet rather amused eyes. He sighed at your ridiculously unsubtle antics, but one corner of his lips rose anyway.
“Alright, that’s it. Get down here, you little minx,” he huffed.
Oh, sweet victory.
Mirroring his expression, you retorted cheekily: “Come get me.”
There was no missing the dangerous glint in is eye as he rose to his feet and stalked to your chair, a smirk playing on his lips, every movement purposeful and precise as if he was a predator chasing his prey to the corner.
Your breathing picked up as he neared, your heart pounding, chest heaving quickly – fuck, wasn’t it an erotic sight, Steve’s figure cladded in plain t-shirt and sweats, looking up at you as if he was about to eat you alive.
Maybe it was the expression on his face, somewhere between aroused, amused, cocky and predatory at the same time. Maybe it was the outline of his semi-hard dick on his sweatpants. But shit, you knew you were in trouble, you loved it, and you might have been this close to drooling. You were glad for forgoing underwear, because it would be absolutely useless and soaked through in an instant.
And Steve hadn’t even started yet.
Stopping right in front of you, craning his neck only a bit to face you (the tall bastard), his wide palms sprawled over your calves, their heat warming you from inside out.
An appreciative hum rumbled in his chest as his touch trailed up at torturously slow pace, drinking in the sight of your ragged breaths, indulging in every inch he laid his hands on. You couldn’t withhold the shudder running through your whole body and his grin widened.
“You’re such a fucking tease….” he whispered, licking his lips as his gaze fell lower again, following the movements of his hands, clasping the back of your thighs now, inching toward their inner part, fingers brushing the hem of your stockings.
“Is it-“ You had to clear your throat against the lump that grew there, your body buzzing with anticipation, the smart remark growing heavy on your tongue. “Is it teasing when you can just take what you want?”
He chuckled, a delicious dark sound, bringing more slickness between your legs, much to his apparent satisfaction as he set eyes on his prize.
“Downright naughty…”
His mouth landed softly on the inside of your right calf, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs to nudge them few inches apart to make space for him.
“Does that… uhm, does that mean I won’t be getting any presents from Santa this year?”
You had genuinely no clue how you managed to form a sentence through the fog of arousal around your brain, only growing thicker when Steve’s teeth grazed the skin above your knee, his fingertips brushing an extremely sensitive spot so close to your core.
“You could come down now, be a very good girl and I might put in a good word for you,” he muttered, biting down some more, drawing a mewl from your lips, another one escaping you when he snapped one of the strings holding your stockings in place.
The sharp gentle pain was enough to make words roll off your tongue.
“You think that would work?”
“Oh sweetheart…” Steve chuckled again, a huff of breath warming your thighs, before his eyes, wide-blown and hungry, met yours. “If it doesn’t… you can be damn sure I’m gonna give you fucking everything I have.”
You yelped when his grip on the back of your thighs tightened and he tugged you forward, your hands instantly going to his shoulders to maintain balance as you found yourself with no surface under your feet all of sudden.
He grinned up at you – the show-off, but by God, wasn’t the demonstration of strength setting your body on fire, rendering you speechless – and slowly lowered you to the ground, half-lidded eyes zeroed on your lips. He made damn sure that you felt his erection against your body at all time as he always loosened his grip and tightened it a second later, until your feet touched the ground – and yet you felt your legs shaking, unsteady with the need to feel more of him.
It dawned to you how crazy he managed to drive you, your roles reversed, your plan backfiring. But was it? Backfiring? Because you couldn’t wait to see how it would unfold--
His hands slipped under the sweater you stole from him, one grasping your hip to hold you tight against his body, fingers of the other diving into the pool of slick between your legs, causing you to jerk forward into his hand.
He leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck right under your ear, forefinger circling your clit for a good measure, drawing a needy moan from you.
“And I bet you’re gonna take it…” he hummed into your ear, satisfied smile audible in his hoarse voice, “and thank me for it like the good girl you are.”
You barely forced the words out, heavy with desire but any less true.
“Yes, Professor Rogers. I think I will.”
“Damn right.”
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
S.R. masterlist
Attached masterlist
The One Word (next in timeline)
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
I really wanted to come up with an original title… and failed. Also, it was supposed to be a drabble, but you know that I tend to babble… and rhyme, apparently.
Thank you for reading and for any kind of feedback :-*
#wonderland4seasonalwc#fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#professor steve rogers#steve rogers x you#attached#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#captain america#captain america x you#captain america x reader#captain america imagine#captain america au#modern au#professor au#holiday fic#writing challenge#a drop of lemons#stockings#attached: stockings#anika ann
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shadow and bone rewatch s1e6 while drinking mid-range scotch
I wish I have a face that is as unlined and pretty as Ben Barnes' when I'm 39
Arken you dirty dirty liar
the face Alek is making at his lies that he knows are lies firstly because he knows the art of lying so well and also because he can read people very well
okay Ivan is kind of a bad bitch with his smirk at Arken's lies
alek's eyes narrowing and his little smile when Arken says 'im an entertainer' bitch I love this show
*grabs hand, pulls up sleeve, and discovers Arken's hand is full of marks indicating successful passages through the fold* 'well, that is certainly entertaining' I love this man with all my heart
him screaming is so fucking hot, is that weird for me to say
Nina being the Darkling's spy is quite interesting
Ben giving the Darkling crazy eyes when Arken owns up to his guilt is so cool
also wtf is Arken a fool trying to negotiate with possibly the strongest man in the world
kind of loved the darkness literally eating him
also love Alina learning to use her powers better when she is alone than when she is with anyone else, wish we got to see the cut in this season as per the books, ah can't have everything I guess
the camera pan to Jesper's gun at his side, amazing
god Jessie is literally so beautiful I need to see her bring Alina to the peak of her power so bad
netflix you better renew this series to let the plot run to its completion
HOW THE FUCK DID THEY CAST THE CROWS SO PERFECTLY
INEJ FUCKING TREMBLING JUST THE TINIEST BIT AS SHE BOWS SLIGHTLY TO ALINA SGSHSBSJJSJSSJ MY TWO QUEENS
'And where is my Summoner?' my little Darklina heart ouchie I really wish you hadn't used and manipulated her like this Alek it was incredibly fucked up especially considering you actually caught feelings
'Ivan and I won't fail you' oh Fedyor my baby, my angel, you don't deserve what is coming
Helnik literally recreating Titanic lmao stop this is a joke
I too would jump off the raft if I came to consciousness to see a gorgeous woman with magical powers with her hand on my back
omg but why is ryevost so pretty though
'I know exactly how she felt. The King's soldiers treated me the same way... I'm not myself today.' why must you do this to me, why must you fuel my darklina soulmates agenda idiocy
I don't quite think I have a problem with the Zoya Darkling relationship as much as I have a problem with the line they chose to reveal it to use with.
my drink's over and I don't know if I should have another, considering that it's 7 am
the tenderness with which he looks at Zoya and takes her hand and then when he says 'I shall relax when I have Alina' makes me believe more that the man that is reduced to tears time and again in front of Alina could in fact be the master manipulator I know him to be
god I can't wait for Zoya's character arc
'I speak six languages, it's part of my job' why is Nina literally the fucking coolest
Alina blinding the oprichniki was so hot, I can't wait to see more of her power and her ruthlessness
I know I've said it before but good god is Jessie Mei Li gorgeous
HER LITTLE SMILE AMONGST ALL THE PANIC AS SOON AS SHE SEES MAL, THE AUDACITY OF THIS SHOW TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS WAY
THE SCORE COMING IN AT THE RIGHT MOMENT, THEIR HANDS MEETING, HER SMILE AGAIN DHDHSBSNSNSNSNAN IM IN PAIN
REALLY?! YOU'RE GONNA GO DIRECTLY FROM MALINA TO HELNIK WITH NO CONCERN FOR MY HEART?
I simply cannot get over Calahan's accent lmao it's really funny
'im not afraid of you' he says to the insanely gorgeous girl with magic
HIM HANGING HIS HEAD IN DEFEAT TO INDICATE NINA HAS MADE VALID POINTS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I CAN'T BREATHE
'You're just a man. Like all the others.' she says and then forgets her train of thought looking at him as he strips. god I love this
not sleeping all night and then scotch is not a good idea, I think
'I promise not to ravish you' 'I hate the way you talk' her hand on his chest, his hand gripping hers, my fucking heart feels like it's about to explode
good god these shooting locations and sets are so beautiful
Alina throwing the flask at Mal and Mal going 'OI!' I fucking can't, I guess I am a
simp for childhood friends to lovers, give me more of that banter and childhood friend energy, I am thriving
wow it literally seems like they took book! Mal sl*tshaming book! Alina and made show! Alina sl*tshame show! Mal, hmm, interesting
'They would have split us up!' MAL'S LITTLE SMILE AT THIS, and the 'You wrote me letters?' Mal's nod, the Malina yearning stare, the Malina hug, 'thank you for finding me' 'always. I'll always find you.' NO MALINA YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU HAVE MADE ME ABSOLUTELY FUCKING FERAL
I understand they had to split time between my ravkan babies and the crows and that is why there were several aspects that were sort of not reflected on enough but Alina's training at the Little Palace, Alina's cut, Mal's personality, a teensy bit of backstory for the crows, maybe one lockpicking scene from my boy Kaz
random note: we have far too many idols and paintings and pictures and whatnot of Hindu deities in our house apart from the specially designed temple (we are Hindus, so maybe it's not that weird but it's a little weird)
Kaz's cane is a literal star, it's so beautiful my heart wants to explode
'Why would Heleen get the Crow Club?' *literally fucking gets up and walks aways instead of answering the fucking question* I LITERALLY CAN'T BREATHE I'M LOSING MY MIND
'I know that voice' WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE ME FIGHT FOR PLATONIC SHIPS IN FANDOMS
'We won't starve' omg get you someone who packs food for you when you go on the run together hiding from your ex who wants to capture you and use your powers as a weapon against your consent
Mal looking surprised at her summoning sunlight, Alina looking cautiously at him waiting for him to disapprove or run for the hills in fear or smth like that, 'I'm sorry it took me this long to see you... But I see you now' my dumb little shipper trash heart ouch
they really said we're gonna feed you this part asian couple as the protagonists in this show in 2021 and guess what I'm eating it's really tasty I'm very satisfied as a south asian
NINA'S LITTLE SMILE WHEN MATTHIAS WAKES UP WITH HIS ARM AROUND HER
'I can feel how much you hate sleeping next to me' 👀👀👀 BITCH SAID IMMA SPILL THE TEA AND THEN SHE DID
it's 8 am and guess what I'm getting another drink my parents have c*vid and are in govt qu*r*ntine centres there is nobody to supervise or stop me
I too say 'Why do you have to say things like that?' to my pretty crush when she flirts with me
Nina smiling at Matthias bragging about his conservative ways is my aesthetic
'No, it's not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall and yet, oh, there you stand.' MY FUCKING QUEEN
Matthias laughing uncontrollably at Nina saying something which isn't even that funny is a whole ass vibe
Kaz Brekker saying 'The Black General' ooh fuck yeah
YESSSS STEP OUT OF THAT CARRIAGE ALL SEXY BLACK GENERAL
isn't alcohol supposed to like kill germs? well, the amount in my system definitely will
I love my crows so much (always but this time particularly for setting that alarm in the stolen carriage)
ooh Polina recognising Inej by the knife yesss let's go writers
this Ivan Jesper showdown is all I needed from life and yet did not know about
Ivan taking off his cloak was, um, sexier than I wanted it to be
I just realised how thirsty I am going to sound in this post
'Has no one told you that keftas are Fabrikator-made and resistant to bullets, hmm?' 'Oh, I do love a challenge' LITERALLY EVERYTHING
im sorry to be pointing out flaws in a perfect show and adaptation but the line delivery on 'You robbed me of my brother, now I'll rob you of your life' from Polina was kind of weak
'You're a-' *gets knocked out with the back of a gun* LMAO we love the hints
got excited at the prospect of kaz v. zoya until I realised they will not be letting the opportunity of kaz v. darkling pass up
my goodness is Amita Suman a splendid actress
I AM NOT KIDDING WHEN I TELL YOU I SQUEALED WHEN I SAW DARKLES EMERGE OUT OF THE SHADOWS IN FRONT OF MY BABY BOY KAZ
THERE BEING ACTUAL FEAR OR ATLEAST DOUBT ON KAZ'S FACE, THE LITTLE BACK STEPS AS
THE DARKLING WALKS TOWARDS HIM, AAAAH I CAN'T
THE DARKLING STOPPING AT KAZ SAYING 'SHE FLED ON HER OWN' AND THE HINT OF TEARS THAT WE SEE IN HIS EYES
'IT WAS PRETTY CLEAR SHE WASN'T INTERESTED IN BEING A CAPTIVE ANYMORE' YOU TELL HIM, KING
*ACTUAL FUCKING TEARS IN THE DARKLING'S EYES AS THE SHADOWS APPROACH*
NOT ME YOWLING LIKE A HYENA THAT THIS CHILD OUTSMARTED THE MOST POWERFUL MAN IN EXISTENCE WITH A FAKE MAGIC TRICK
'Are you sure you added enough cloves?' literally warranting a wide ass smile from my queen Alina making my entire fucking day
for some reason, no matter how much I push it from my mind, Ben Barnes dressed up as the Darkling, dancing to 'push it' keeps coming to mind, it's absolutely ridiculous
I got somehow distracted with interviews but good things came out of that as it gave my body the time for the booze to kick in
and I would just like to say that I love Leigh for all she has given me
Alina is so fucking compassionate, I have no much love for her. I can feel her guilt and her sorrow as Mal talks of Mikhail and Dubrov
don't particularly like how the stag plotline is woven in, could have been executed better
'You're afraid you might start to like me?' *flaps furs like a bird's wings in frustration*
'I DO like you' my fucking heart you idiots
the sexual tension is so palpable and the moment is so intimate I simply cannot
OMG SHE FUCKING FELL
that moment where you think he might let her fall despite having read the books and he doesn't and he tells her his name I- <3
YOU DARE TRANSITION FROM A HELNIK SCENE TO A KANEJ SCENE YOU REALLY HAVE NO MERCY FOR MY HEART HUH
people have talked about this endlessly but Freddie's little jaw tic after he says Inej because Inej is wounded and he can't physically bring himself to help her I fucking cannot
THE MUSIC PICKING UP AS KAZ LOOKS TO THE DARKLING'S CARRIAGE I CAN'T WITH THIS SHOW ANYMORE
and now for one of my favorite scenes in television and cinematic history, David Kostyk throwing a book at Jesper Fahey without even knowing who he is merely because he opens the door of his carriage and says hello to him before getting knocked out by Kaz Brekker while trying to run away
Immediately followed by another, the scene with David Kostyk raising his finger to put forward his point in front of the Darkling and the Darkling trying to let him know he doesn't have to before obliging is one of my favourite scenes in the world
also sir please stop being devastatingly attractive in your glorious appearance with your face and your black kefta and cloak because all that comes to mind is Ayesha Erotica's Emo Boy and I'm afraid that is terribly inappropriate.
'No, you look great.' *literally looks down from embarrassment or blushing* MALINA RIGHTS?
THE LOOK ON THE DARKLING'S FACE BEFORE HE SAYS 'NO ORDINARY TRACKER, NO ORDINARY GIRL' BITCH IM OUT OF BREATH
'ORPHANS OF KERAMZIN, REUNITED.' 'ADORABLE.' HE FUCKING SNEERED IRL I FUCKING CANNOT
GOD IT'S SO GOOD
#shadow and bone#grishaverse#netflix shadow and bone#six of crows#sab#soc#grishaverse spoilers#shadow and bone spoilers#netflix shadow and bone spoilers#six of crows spoilers#sab spoilers#soc spoilers#alina starkov#jessie mei li#malyen oretsev#archie renaux#malina#ivan#simon sears#arken visser#nina zenik#danielle galligan#jesper fahey#jesper llewellyn fahey#kit young#crows#netflix#inej ghafa#amita suman#the darkling
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how could this ever be different (2) ?
part two
spencer reid x reader
summary: Spencer goes undercover in Las Vegas, he may just catch feelings along the way... warnings: innacurate things about Las Vegas because I’ve never been, BAU stuff, dumb spencer, love him, nothing else, except this is really just a “get to know y/n” series masterlist here
**
Spencer wasn't sure what he was expecting.
There were so many things that could happen, so many possibilities, so many things that were unknown, so many things he didn't have the statistics for.
He didn't know anything about going undercover, nothing besides the week he got to spend cramming his brain with information before he left for Las Vegas.
He hadn't gotten very far.
It seemed that every situation was unique, that no agent who had ever been undercover could give any information. Every person, every unsub, was different, and there was no specific way to deal with the situation.
Spencer didn't like going into situations he didn't know anything about.
He’d asked Garica to get him a file on Y/N.
And here's what he knew about her: she had a masters degree, which wasn't being put to use, she’d been working at that same bookstore for two years, she’d lived her whole life in Las Vegas, she had a brother, and her parents weren't anywhere to be found.
That was it. Just tiny details.
He hoped it would be enough to get him started.
After a week had gone by the plans were made, he was going to live in a small apartment close to the book shop, he was going to send a report once a day, and otherwise, no one was to contact him unless he needed anything.
He was going to be completely alone. With a murder suspect.
He would be fine.
They all said he would be fine. They were probably right. He could do this.
***
Spencer hadn't slept at all the night he’d moved in.
He hadn't brought everything, knowing that- hopefully -he would be moving back home in only a couple of weeks. But even with the few things he had brought, his toothbrush, books, and some clothes, he still had to unpack.
And it didn't exhaust him like he had hoped it would.
He’d tossed and turned all night, anxiety wracking at his bones. He had no idea what he was doing, no idea what to expect, and on top of that, he had people depending on him.
The more-than-usual dark spots under his eyes could prove that.
But he had a job to do, he had a girl to get to know, and a murder to catch.
He walked to the bookstore early in the morning, hoping to get there before it opened just so he could know where he was going. Although he had lived there as a kid, things had changed so much, he could only recognize the layout, not the places.
It was a small little shop. It looked like a bookstore with a cafe in it. He could tell there was no one in there, which he had guessed, it being only five in the morning.
He was going to wait. There was a bench close enough to the store, he would wait there and finalize his plan.
It turned out that Spencer was more tired than expecting. And that the bench he was sitting on was extremely comfortable.
He fell asleep thirty minutes into waiting.
The sun rested on his face in a warm glow, his body was curled into itself- at least as much as it could be while sitting on a bench -and his hand rested gently against his face, holding his head up. His eyes fluttered as he breathed, in and out, on a bench where he was just supposed to wait. It was so warm.
People passed by and gave him acknowledging looks. All of them knew what it was like to fall asleep after a night out.
Spencer didn't see them, too at peace to notice anything around him.
Except, of course, the person gently shaking his shoulder.
He opened his eyes to be blinded by the sun, he could feel the red forming on his cheeks, a sunburn imminent. He could only see a shadow of a person standing in front of him.
He wondered why he was being blinded by the sun for a moment before he remembered falling asleep.
Oh.
He sat up, his back cracking at the quick motion, he squinted his eyes and looked back up at the person who had woke him up.
They were staring at him with anxious eyes.
She was.
“Are you alright?” her modulated voice sounded almost as anxious as her eyes looked, her mouth turned down as she waited for his response. He could tell how closed off she was, her arms crossed over her chest, her leg shaking as she stood in front of him.
He shook his head, trying to wake his mind up, trying to get his eyes to stay open. He still felt so tired.
“You’re not? Is there something I can do? I can call-” she rushed out again, her face only more panicked. Spencer quickly realized she thought he was shaking his head at her question.
“No, no.” he interrupted her, not wanting her to get too overworked. “Sorry,” he anxiously laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I just fell asleep waiting for the stores to open.”
He looked back up at her eyes, her insistent eye contact making him nervous, and he watched as she squinted at him.
“Are you sure?” she asked again, almost as if she thought he was lying to her.
“Yes, yeah” he cleared his throat, standing up, his legs wobbling under the pressure. “Um, I’m fine,” he said again, his eyes widened as he got used to the quick rush of blood to his head.
“Sir, I can call you a cab. Um, I don't know if you should be walking around alone in your condition.” Her voice caught his attention again, and he looked down at her, noticing the height difference between the two of them. He hadn't noticed she was still standing there.
His brows furrowed and his mouth shaped into a flat line, “In my condition?” he asked, confused, almost offended.
“Alcohol can do dangerous things to the body, and of course, I’d pay for the taxi, I just don't want you to get-”
“I’m not drunk.” Spencer interrupted, finally realizing why she looked so nervous at his insistence that he was okay.
“You’re not?” she said, her words much slower now.
“No, I just fell asleep.” when she still looked doubtful he continued “I swear. Just a bit dizzy is all.”
She turned away, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, suddenly more self-conscious, more guarded. “Okay then,” she said, making eye contact one more time before looking down again. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you do whatever you meant to do today,” she paused again and Spencer watched her start to walk away. “I’m sorry for bothering you, have a good day!” she called before walking off.
Her behavior was strange. Her body language had changed so quickly, her confident demeanor transformed in an instant. Spencer shook his head again, reminding himself that he had a job to do. No matter how confused he was, he had to go meet their unsub.
He walked down a street for a moment, finding the right bookstore from earlier quickly. He took a look inside, saw the lights on, the shop lit up so early in the morning.
He took a deep breath. He reminded himself that he could do this, that it wasn't going to be as difficult as he was imagining. His team trusted him, he needed to trust himself.
He took another deep breath and walked in.
It was so much different inside.
It smelled like spices, like a million different coffees all combined. It was bright in there, the sun helping, but the lights doing even more magic. There were lights everywhere, providing a sense of warmth, of comfort.
Spencer looked around at the books. It was a small shop, smaller than most bookstores he frequented at, but there were so many books. Different spaces were built into the walls to hold more books, bookshelves lining areas. There were little cabinets next to the tables close to what Spencer guessed was the cafe, little cabinets that held more books.
It seemed so peaceful, so much like a different world.
It was strange that a murder could be resting between those comforting walls.
He walked around for a moment, glancing at all the book titles, amazed at the selection hidden between the different covers.
No, no. He had a job to do.
He walked to the front, already aware that she would be there today, it said so on her schedule which Garcia had conveniently gotten for him.
But there was only one person there.
The girl.
The same girl that had thought he was intoxicated.
She must have noticed him out of the corner of her eye, because she looked over a little bit shocked, a gasp leaving her mouth. He was worried he had scared her before she started talking, a hand raised up to her chest as if she was trying to catch her breath.
“Oh. It's you.” Her eyebrows were raised, and she looked surprised at his presence. “Sorry,” she said motioning to the book on her lap, an explanation of why she had been so surprised he was there. “Usually no one comes in until at least eight.”
Spencer swore he could feel the tension in the room. It was so much different in the store than it had been outside, her quick change in confidence hadn't since changed back, and she still seemed closed off.
Why?
Spencer stared at her another moment, thinking of how she didn't seem like a murderer, she seemed compassionate. She had been worried about him earlier, she had wished him a good day, she had offered to call and pay for a cab just so he got home safe.
She didn't seem anything like the sadist they had profiled.
In one quick moment, Spencer blurted out “You’re Y/N?”.
She looked a bit confused, a bit surprised, possibly offended at his tone of voice- the tone he was regretting only moments after -and a bit horrified.
After watching her face for a moment Spencer realized his slip up.
He wasn't supposed to know her name.
“How do you know my name?”
“Oh um,” Spencer started, quickly looking for a way out, he looked down at her name tag, relieved that it was actually her name. “Your nametag.” he finished, looking back up at her eyes, trying to be convincing, cursing himself for letting it slip.
“Oh,” she said, all the emotions Spencer could see only a second ago draining out of her like water. “Okay. Can I help you?” she asked, her voice changing significantly. Spencer guessed this was her customer service voice.
He almost wanted to laugh.
His heart was beating loud in his chest. He was even more nervous now that he knew who she was, knew that she was the unsub, knew that she hadn't caught him yet.
“I’m just looking,” he said, all of his plans going to fail. He needed to talk to her, he needed to get to know her, but he had already made a mistake, and he was so confused that she was his suspect.
“Okay. I’m here all day today,” she answered, looking away from him, back down at her book.
It was a weird introduction.
All of the things that had happened near this unsub was weird.
He needed to come up with a new plan.
He sat down in an old chair next to a small table. He had a view of the front and a cabinet of books next to him.
And he watched.
*
Five hours later and Spencer was still watching.
He just watched.
He figured that observing for today would be alright, that his team would understand, that it was his assignment, that he could do whatever he wanted as long as he did his job. Observing was a good place to start.
He ordered himself a coffee, which Y/N brought to him with cautious eyes.
And he sipped it as he watched.
She seemed to be the only person working. At least this morning. She worked both the register and the cafe, moving back and forth almost effortlessly. He watched as she quickly rang up customers, and made other peoples coffees.
She had very expressive eyes. Eyes that seemed to put all of her emotions on display. He could tell when she was worried when she was being careful around someone when she genuinely seemed happy to do something when there was someone she liked there. Her eyes changed with every movement, with every thought that seemed to cross her mind.
It made Spencer's job just a little bit easier.
She seemed to know that her emotions were on display for the world to see because she closed herself off, she avoided eye contact with almost everyone, besides a couple of customers that seemed to know her. She looked up and down, and everywhere except for someone's face. It made Spencer wonder why she had been so willing to look at him earlier that morning.
He watched as she directed people to different books, as she carefully recalled someone's order of coffee. He watched her blow the hair out of her eyes, and smile at each person that walked up to her, he listened to her voice- which he now knew to be the customer service voice as he had guessed earlier -listened to her talk to each customer, ask how their days had been. He watched it all.
Occasionally he looked down, focused on the book he had picked out, tried not to seem too suspicious, read through the pages like he always did.
That part was simple.
What wasn't simple was the girl. This girl who was supposed to be a murder. This girl who he was supposed to be arresting in only a couple of weeks.
She wasn't anything like they’d profiled.
She was empathetic, and she worked with the customers like she’d been doing it all her life, she smiled, and she expressed her thoughts, and she asked them about their days. She never looked at any of the women walking in with any extra malice, she never did anything that seemed even slightly threatening. She just worked, and she never got mad. Not even at the customers who seemed to expect the world from her, not even when they got mad at her for just doing her job. She never once snapped, never once lost the smile that seemed to be plastered on her face.
She closed herself off sometimes, but that was the only closest to anything they’d profiled.
She was so much different than he’d been expecting.
That made him nervous. He wasn't sure if they had profiled something wrong if he was doing something wrong, he wasn't sure if he was doing anything right. There was something off. Something wrong.
He hated the unknown.
He hated that even though she seemed like an open book he didn't know anything about her. The first day wasn't going well.
He told himself that it was fine, that he would ask Derek for help, that it was only the first day, that he would figure it out tomorrow.
He told himself that over and over, still, it felt like there was something wrong.
He was debating himself in his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
A strangely familiar tap.
“Um, hi, again.” she started, looking away from him. “I’m about to take my break in around fifteen minutes. And I have to kick you out. I’m sorry.”
Spencer frowned.
“You can come back in an hour! I just need to eat lunch and I-”
“Oh, no it's not that sorry. Just thought of something. Of course, I’ll get out of your way.” Spencer quickly shut the book he was reading, noting the page number, and placed it on the stack of books he’d already read so he could take them back to the bookshelves.
He was about to walk away when she stopped him.
“Did you read all of those?” she said softly, and when Spencer turned her eyes were wide, almost shocked. When she noticed him looking at her, she moved back, crossed her arms again. He frowned for a moment before remembering how she seemed to take that before. He looked down at his books.
“Yeah. I- um I read really fast.”
She shook her head, smiled a different smile then he’d seen before, and chuckled a little. “No, I read fast. That looks like you skimmed a couple of pages off of each book, and decided you were done.”
Spencer smiled at her a little bit, used to the question, watched her, looked for any signs of jealousy.
“I just read fast,” he said again, watching.
“There's 14 books here!” she exclaimed, a full-on smile now filling her face. Spencer was more confused. Why did that make her smile? Why wasn't she closed off anymore?
His question went answered when she heard how loud her own voice was when she clapped her hand over her mouth when her brows furrowed and she looked almost angry.
He was confused when he watched her relax when her shoulders went slack and her eyes turned away from him.
“I- Customers-” she stuttered, and she walked away.
Spencer felt himself confused, felt his heart race, watched as this girl walked away.
He didn't know anything about her.
It was day one and he didn't know anything about her.
He decided he needed more time to think.
He decided it was time to leave.
He would be back tomorrow.
***
Met unsub today.
She has a weird way of closing herself off in certain instances.
She doesn't seem to connect easily, but I didn't get close enough to tell. There have been no other signs of sadism, and nothing that alerts me to psychopathic tendencies.
More tomorrow.
Agent Morgan should call me.
I have questions.
Dr. Spencer Reid. BAU.
***
masterlist here
love you
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds rp#criminal minds headcanons#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fan#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#mgg#mgg x reader#mgg blurb#mgg fanfiction
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hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately
so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on... there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !
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How Haikyuu Characters Reject a Confession
@avylee Hi!! Can I please request how Daichi, Suga, Noya, and the Miya twins would reject a confession?
Hi!! This was sooooo fun to write! Sorry it took me so long -_- My computer broke in the middle of writing it so I had to send it in. If anyone has anymore requests feel free to send them in!
Daichi:
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you gripped the note in your hands so hard you thought it was going to disintegrate. Calm down, you thought, your going to be fine, the worst thing he could say is no, right...?
You didn’t realize the final bell had rand until someone tapped you on your shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?” It was Kiyoko
“Oh yea! I’m fine. I gotta go.” You quickly gathered your things and ran towards the door.
Once you were outside it was very easy to spot your him: Daichi Sawamura. He was talking with some other third years with Suga right behind him. God he was beautiful, you thought.
You did a nervous half-run-half-walk thing over to him, it must of looked ridiculous but that didn’t matter, it was time. “Um- Daichi, hi.” You tapped on his shoulder (having to stand on your tiptoes to reach.)
“Oh, your the girl from my English class, Y/N right?”
“Yeah...um, here!” You shoved the envelope in front of you, he took it, confused.
The envelope was purple with white writing on the front of it with the word “Daichi” on it. He tore open the top and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.
You waited apprehensive as he quietly read the handwritten letter, his friends standing behind him trying their best to read the page for themselves.
Maybe you were looking too close into things but the further he head down the page the deeper his frown seemed to get. And finally, after countless awkward minutes of waiting he finally said something.
“Um Y/N, this is a sweet letter and all but... I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.” He was blushing at this point. “I’m really sorry-it really was cute! I’ve never received something so nice from someone before I just- I have a lot going on in my own life right now I just can’t handle a relationship. I would love to be friends though and we can go from there!” He smiled which you returned to hide your disappointment.
“It’s ok, I understand!”
Suga:
It was valentine's day, the most romantic time of year, it was time. You couldn’t wait any longer, you had to tell him.
The hallways of the high school seemed to be filled with love, everyone was either holding hands with or at least gawking over their boyfriend/girlfriend. You made your way over to the science classroom during free period, that’s where Sugawara Koushi spent most his time when he wasn’t in the second gym.
He was sitting in his usual spot next to the sink, reading a book. He looked so adorable in those reading glasses, he should wear them more often. He smiled when he noticed you approaching him. “Hey Y/N, what are you up to?”
“Nothing much, I-um...I just wanted to tell you something.” You played with your fingers nervously.
“You can tell me anything, what’s up?”
You sucked in a deep breath, why was this so hard? You talked to him everyday so why was this any different? Just say it, you thought.
“Suga, Umm...I don’t know how to word this so I’m just going to go out and say it. I have liked you since first year. You are such a nice person and one of the sweetest and most empathetic person I know. I don’t know if you feel the same way or not- I bet you have a lot of girls who are coming at you like this...I thought I would just give it a shot.” That was probably the most awkward thing you have ever said. There had to be a better way to say that.
He looked at you with sad but compassionate eyes, “Oh Honey, I’m very touched, thank you. You are very smart and peppy and one of my favorite people to see everyday when I come to school but...I’ve been dating someone for almost a month now. I thought you knew-if you didn’t that's ok. But I couldn’t ditch my partner like that. I hope you understand.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, you put your hands to your mouth, “ I’m such an idiot...I’m sorry I didn’t know. I shouldn’t of said that.” The tears fell from your eyes, you couldn’t help it.
“Hey, it’s alright, I’m not mad-I’m rather touched actually.” He pulled you into a hug, you let him.
Even though you couldn’t be his significant other he would always be your best friend who was always there for you. No matter what.
Nishinoya:
You watched as the smallest person on the court dug the ball out of the court. Noya was surely amazing, he was the only person you have ever known who could move like that.
Karasuno won the set 15-24, one of the best games they’ve ever played. It was time now, you thought.
You followed the team out to the main lobby, looking for the boy in the orange jersey. He was standing next to Tanaka and Ennoshita (Who was trying to keep the latter under control)
You made your way over to the group, “Hey guys” You said nervously, even though you were in the name class as the Libero you have actually never attempted to talk to him.
Tanaka looked at you in awe-struck, “Oh hey....person.” He didn’t even know your name.
“Y/N!! What’s up!” Noya interrupted his friend.
“Hi Noya, Um- I just wanted to say, you played really well today.”
He slung his arm around you, “Awe! Thanks!”
“I-um, wanted to-um ask you something. I really like you, you are an adorable kid who I wanted to be friends with the first day I saw you. You are really nice and I want to be closer to you-”
You were interrupted by Tanaka’s and Ennoshita’s laughing. “What’s so funny?” You asked, tears building in your eyes.
“Umm, Y/n I’m flattered but...” He started laughing even harder. “You are not my type.”
“What?” You said confused. “I don’t understand why that's funny...”
Tanaka took his chance to answer, “Y/N, it’s because your a she, not a he.”
You started laughing hysterically, “Well shit, I guess I had no chance in the first place.”
Miya Atsumu:
He sat next to you in class, his locker was right next to yours, your heart belonged to him... but he didn’t know it yet.
Miya Atsumu was probably the most popular person in your high school, there was no way you’d have a chance with him, but it was worth a shot.
It was almost perfect, you had on your best skirt, it was navy blue with white buttons just off-centered and a button up white shirt. Your makeup was beautiful, now all you had to do was work up the courage to say how you feel.
There was a huge crowd of people around him during lunch, boys and girls alike. He seemed to be enjoying all the attention, unlike his brother.
“Hey Atsumu.” You smile, trying not to blush through your makeup. “C-can I sit here?”
He barley even acknowledged you, “If you can find a spot.” You did.
The other girls at the table glared at you, almost like they knew what you were going to say. You went on anyways. “Hey Atsumu....I-um...I like you.”
All he did was smirk, “I know honey.” Osamu slapped him on the shoulder. “Oh-oh! You’re being serious!”
You nod, trying to hold back tears. “Yeah...um- sorry...” You say before running out of the lunch room.
Atsumu’s eyes widen, “What the hell did I do?!” Osamu slaps him again, “And why do you keep hitting me Asshole!!”
“That was rude Atsumu... you don’t have to be such a jerk all the time. She just tried to ask you out you know.” Osamu rolled his eyes.
“Shit not your making me feel bad”
“You should! No go apologize to her you dickhead!”
“Right right...” Atsumu stood up quickly and went to go find you.
Miya Osamu:
You walk into your Home EC class, not expecting the sight you see in front of you. Miya Osamu, the new student who transferred a few days ago.
“He’s kind of hot- in a mysterious way I mean” Your friend said a few days ago, you agreed- obviously.
Of course with your luck you were paired with him on the first day, it was a cooking class. He looked you up and down with a slightly disgusted look, you decided to ignore him.
“Hi...My name’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You knew his name of course, you just needed an ice-breaker question.
“Osamu, do you know how to whip eggs?”
“Y-yes?” You didn't. “I’ll get to that right now.”
You start “whipping” the eggs, it definitely wasn’t going well- egg whites were flying out of the bowl and hitting your face. Once Osamu saw this his eyes immediately widened, he quickly came up behind you and helped steady the bowl. “No no no, not like that- you gotta use a whisk.”
He grabbed a whisk from the jar behind you and puts it in your hand, wrapping his around yours. You let your arm go limp as he guides it in circles through the bowl. You could feel your face going red.
After a few minutes, he lets you guide the whisk yourself, “Like this?”
He smiles, “Yep.” His smile drops when he sees your face, “Are you feeling ok? Your face is flushed.”
This immediately made your face blush harder, “Oh- I’m fine, I’m just not used to working with cute boys.” You immediately clip your mouth shut. For the love of god, stop talking.
He chuckles, “Thanks, I wasn’t expecting that.” He pours the whipped eggs into the pan, “But just so you know, I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”
You knew it was coming but it stung a bit. “Oh, I know. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”
“It’s alright.” His smile was almost angelic, “Let’s get back to cooking.”
#haikyuu scenarios#hq scenarios#anime scenarios#scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#hq daichi#daichi headcanon#sugawara#sugawara koushi#sugawara x reader#Nishinoya Yuu#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya x y/n#hq nishinoya#atsumu#atsumu smau#atsumu imagines#atsumu looks like sangwoo convince me otherwise#osamu smau#osamu#osamu is the better twin
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I Pretend You’re Mine (5)
A/N: Back with the promised continuation chapter!
Not sure if you’re interested, but when I was writing, in my head I pictured:
Betty White as Grandma Rose
Richard Madden as Levi
Peter Gallagher as Jason Martin
Scott Eastwood as Drew
Masterlist
Tags: @empath-bunny
@ityagirljay
@wolfarrowepz
@supernatural-crazed-girl
Five: You Were Romeo (I Was a Scarlet Letter)
Day 1: Thursday, June 13th
7:00 pm- Welcome Cocktails in the Stardust Lounge, Deck 6
“Champagne, miss?” The formally dressed waiter offered a flute of sparkling wine, a raspberry garnish floating in the glass. Rosalie took it from his hands with no hesitation, sending the attendant a silent smile of thanks. She put the glass to her lips, then paused and looked up at Derek.
“Will people judge me if I chug this whole thing right now?” she voiced, loving the amused smile that lit up her partner’s face at the innocent question.
“I thought we didn’t care anymore what people thought of us,” Derek reminded her, though she knew that when he was referring to ‘we’, he really meant her. Derek never was one to care what people thought of him.
Rosalie weighed her options, then decided that her family judged her anyways so why not have a good time?
In order to get through this hellish night, she’d have to be tipsy. Best start now.
Without a word of affirmation, she forewent her instilled manners and chugged the glass down in one long sip. Rosalie wasn’t normally a fan of champagne, unless it was Dom Perignon, which she realized made her sound like a total snob. It was the one thing that she’d inherited from her father, her expensive taste in food and drink. It seemed by the familiar, rich, and delicious taste of the bubbly that the cruise ship staff had only provided the very best for their VIP guests.
Rosalie searched for a place to set her glass, finding a nearby unoccupied table and gently depositing it there. She, quite literally, couldn’t afford to even chip one of the crystal goblets. She stumbled back to Derek, who was waiting for her with an open arm.
“You ready for this?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. It caused unvoluntary goosebumps to crawl up her arms, which she prayed he didn’t notice.
Was she ready?
A part of her never would be. She’d purposely left this part of her life behind, knowing all too well how toxic it was for her mental health. But Rosalie knew if she backed out now, then the family would know that they finally got to her. They would think that she was still strung up and heartbroken about Drew, or jealous of her stepsister for getting the diamond that was meant for Rosalie.
And sure, she had been… once upon a time.
Moving back to Beacon Hills, reconnecting with normal people, people she loved more than her own blood relatives… it had put everything into perspective for her again.
Rosalie could once again be herself, be that strong woman that Talia Hale had raised to be when Rosalie’s own mother had fallen short. The strong, kind, generous, goofy, compassionate, empathetic woman with a mind of her own and a head on her shoulders. Not the ice queen, the submissive and serious woman that her father had tried to warp her into.
And for that, Rose was forever thankful.
She was different now, but exactly the same. And this version of her, with her closest confidantes by her side, wouldn’t cower in a corner.
Rosalie held her head high, meeting Derek’s gaze with a confident look in her blue eyes.
“Yes,” she declared, feeling her confidence rise.
“Good.”
“Lead the way, Prince Charming.”
Derek snorted and shook his head at the nickname, but complied and escorted Rosalie further into the room. She searched for a friendly face among the crowd. Normally, she’d be able to find Lydia by her head of bright red hair, but nearly half of the people in the room had some shade of red hair.
Thankfully, Rosalie didn’t have to look all that hard, as Charlotte came bounding up to her aunt, screaming, “Auntie Rosie! Uncle Derek!”
And suddenly, as the child wrapped her arms around one of Derek’s legs and one of Rosalie’s, all of the attention in the room shifted to the couple.
“Is that Rosalie?” her cousin Noah commented to the man next to him.
“Who the hell is that with her? Because dayum, I’d like to tap that ass,” Noah’s twin, Nick, said back.
“That has to be her friend,” Uncle Alex said to his wife, his lips around a glass of Scotch.
“Not with the way he’s holding her. Besides, did you hear her niece call him Uncle? How she managed that is beyond me,” Aunt Sarah replied, looking Rose’s companion up and down with hungry eyes.
Rosalie ignored all the talk, even though it seemed as if the crowd wasn’t even attempting to be discreet in their conversations.
She reached down to pat Charlotte’s blonde head. “Hey, honey! I missed you!”
Derek ruffled Charlotte’s curls playfully, to which the little girl pretended to be angry with him. But Rosalie could see the smile that she was hiding as Charlotte clutched the adults’ legs even harder.
“All right, all right, Charlie. Let’s let Auntie Rosalie and Uncle Derek breathe, yeah?” Rosalie’s brother, Levi, broke through the crowd, detaching his daughter from the couple and telling her to go on and play with her cousins.
As soon as the little girl was out of sight, Levi enveloping his sister in a hug. Derek held out his hand for a friendly shake, but Levi pulled him into an embrace as well, the two men patting each other fondly on the back.
“I’m digging the beard,” Derek approved, gesturing to Levi’s newly grown beard while rubbing his own.
“What can I say? I was inspired by yours. Although I have to say, mine looks a little better. Y’know, because it’s still all one color,” Levi joked, comparing his solid red scruff to Derek’s salt-and-pepper look.
Rosalie elbowed Derek in the side teasingly. “Yeah, you old man!”
Derek raised one brow and stepped away from Rosalie, crossing his arms. “Oh sure, call me old man one more time.”
Rosalie beamed up at him, wagging her own brows. “What would you rather me call you? Sugar daddy?”
With one fell swoop, Derek was pressed against her, fingers tickling the small expanse of visible skin on her waist. Rose squealed with laughter, trying in vain to pull away from him and begging for mercy.
Levi cleared his throat loudly, causing the couple to separate. Rosalie’s cheeks burned red at the embarrassing scene that she had been a part of. Surely her brother would tease her about it.
Instead, Levi looked a bit pissed.
“So, I guess my daughter didn’t dream up your engagement, then. This,” Levi gestured to Rosalie and Derek, “is really happening?”
Derek shifted his weight on both feet. Rosalie bit her lip and looked to the floor guiltily. She loved her brother. She really did. But she knew that Levi had loose lips, and he’d surely have one too many and (unintentionally) let slip the whole ruse. That, and Rose couldn’t take the disappointment from him.
“It’s about fucking time,” Levi added, sounding a lot more jovial. Rosalie’s and Derek’s heads shot up instantly, shocked at his comment.
Levi slapped Derek on the shoulder. “Bro, I am so glad you didn’t listen to me.”
“What’s he talking about?” Rosalie interrogated Derek.
Derek scratched the back of his neck and turned his head towards the large window next to them. Before he could explain, Jess, Levi’s wife, snaked her arms around her husband’s waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Lee was telling me all about how he’d threatened Derek with his guns if he even put his hands on you.”
Rosalie’s jaw dropped. Derek stayed unusually silent. “You gave Der the boyfriend talk?! When was this, big brother?”
Levi raised both hands in surrender. “In my defense, Derek was a horny college kid back then, and I was only trying to protect my little sister. You know the, um, milestones that come with prom night.”
The tapping of a mic interrupted their conversation, which Rosalie was thankful for since she was at a loss for words.
She’d remembered that night in question, fondly. It was the night that she’d realized that she’d had feelings for Derek. Rosalie’s then-boyfriend, Ryan, had dumped her a week before prom for another, more sexy, more experienced, girl. Rosalie was heartbroken, and had sworn off prom, until Derek had shown up on her doorstep in a suit with a pink corsage and a sparkling silver tiara.
She’d laughed, of course, at the reference to the childhood nickname. Then, she’d excitedly rushed upstairs to ready herself, leaving Derek at the mercy of one Levi Martin. Levi Martin, who had, apparently, threatened to cut off Derek’s balls and feed them to the family dog if he had even touched his baby sister in an inappropriate way.
(Levi was always… poetic when it came to his threats.)
Rosalie had hoped, prayed, that as Derek had driven her home in his black Camaro, that he would kiss her, to put a fairytale ending on a perfect night. Sure, he’d kissed her when he dropped her off at her front door… on the cheek, like a brother, or a best friend, might.
Rosalie had dreamt about that night for years afterwards, of what it would be like if he had actually kissed her.
_______________
“I’m sorry, Grandma Rose. I have to go rescue my fiancé from your dear grandson.”
Rosalie stood from the table, feeling a rush in her head for a few seconds. She was definitely tipsier than she thought.
Once Rose got her bearings, she strutted, barefoot, to Derek, who looked highly uncomfortable. With every inch that Nick advanced on Derek, the man backed a considerable distance away.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have an amazing ass?” Rosalie heard Nick flirt from paces away. The way that Nick was looking at Derek, the way that he was blatantly hitting on the man when Nick knew that Derek was taken, it unsettled something in Rosalie. Her vision turned red as she approached the two from behind, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist.
“Hi Nick. Sorry, this amazing ass is mine.” Rosalie didn’t know what she was saying, didn’t really think through what she was doing. All she knew was that she was grabbing Derek’s right butt cheek with her hand, smiling smugly as Nick’s eyes widened.
Derek waited until Rose’s cousin scurried away before stiffly asking, “Rosalie, why are you grabbing my ass?”
Rosalie let go of Derek immediately, feeling as if she’d spontaneously combust in mortification. “I am, so, so sorry. I just kind of… he was ogling you and it made me mad. Like you’re gorgeous but you’re more than just a pretty face and an incredible ass.” Rosalie’s eyes widened at her word vomit, and now she definitely wanted to throw herself from the nearest balcony and test her drunken theory that she was secretly a mermaid.
“I… I need a drink.”
Derek turned to face her, a hint of a forming chuckle on his lips. “I think you’ve had enough of those, babe.”
Rosalie wished that she could slink away. She wished that someone would hit her in the head, and she’d wake up with amnesia. Maybe she could change her name and move to Antarctica? Yeah, that would be good.
Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing his best friend by the elbow and latching her hand back onto his arm. “I’m not mad at you, Rosalie. Feel free to grab my ass anytime if it makes you feel better.”
Rosalie tried to scowl, but the frown was turning upward with every second. “I hate you so much.”
Derek escorted the two back to Rosalie’s table, where Grandma Rose looked completely unimpressed with the whole shindig. Before they sat, he pulled Rose close and whispered, “I’ll let you grab my ass as long as I can grab yours.”
At that, he pulled out Rosalie’s chair and plopped her down, taking the one next to her. Rose was speechless. Did that actually come out of his mouth? Wait, did he actually want to grab her behind? Yep. Those were his words. Exactly.
Rose’s cheeks flushed a healthy shade of pink. Derek laughed at her slowly coloring face, to which she smacked him on the thigh under the table. Before she could remove her hand, Derek grabbed it and held it between the two of them.
“I always knew the two of you would end up together.” Grandma Rose said wistfully, looking at the couple with soft eyes.
You and everyone else, apparently. Everyone but Derek, Rosalie thought sadly, and tried to shove the painful pang in her heart.
“You know how I knew, Rosalie?” Grandma Rose shakily reached for her flute of champagne, taking a long sip. “I knew it when this one, this big, strong, handsome man,” the old woman reached for Derek’s free hand and patted it kindly, “punched my idiot son in the face at that party, after you got your master’s degree.”
Rosalie snickered at the memory. Jason and Derek had never gotten along. Jason thought Derek was ‘some jock who was too concerned with an unlikely career in basketball instead of his studies’. Derek thought Jason was a ‘pompous, cheating, scumbag, son of a bitch’. (Both quotes were their words exactly)
All of the building tension exploded when Jason had chosen to make a below-the-belt comparison between Rose and Ashleigh’s accomplishments. As if they weren’t celebrating Rosalie graduating from Columbia University, an ivy league, with a master’s degree, with the highest honors.
Derek had broken Jason’s nose. Jason had gotten a restraining order (his favorite defense tactic; it expired last year).
“I’m so sorry,” Derek told Rosalie’s grandmother, though he didn’t sound the least bit remorseful.
“Oh, sweetheart. It wasn’t like every sane person at that party wasn’t thinking the same thing. You were the only one brave enough to do it. Rose’s knight in shining armor.”
Derek’s face flushed red, a rare sight for a man with so much confidence.
“Rosalie, dear. I do have to warn you, Drew and Ashleigh are here.”
Rosalie sighed. She knew that they would be here. The pair had done a very good job at avoiding them; Rose wondered when they’d finally make it around her and Derek’s way. If Rose were lucky, maybe they’d just avoid her the whole trip. Only in her dreams…
“I know, Grandma. I—have you seen them yet?”
“Yes, I had the misfortune of running into both of them while yelling at your father for dragging his ninety-two-year-old mother on an extravagant trip. Do you know how long the plane flight was? Anyways, Drew called me ‘grandma’. You know what I told him, loves?”
Derek and Rosalie looked to each other, both knowing that it was probably something rude. Grandma Rose was Rosalie’s favorite relative, outside of her brother and Lydia. She was the most real of all of them. She spoke her mind and wasn’t afraid to let anyone know how she felt.
“I told him to go fuck himself.”
Derek choked on his glass of white wine. Rosalie smacked him on the back a few times, unable to hold in her shaking laughter.
“Yes, I told dear old Drew to go fuck himself. The only man that’s allowed to call me that is Derek. He doesn’t have his head up his ass. He sees how beautiful, wonderful, and deserving of love my real granddaughter is.”
All jokes aside, Grandma Rose’s words warmed Rosalie’s heart. At least one of the extended family members didn’t think she was a disgrace.
“Well, kids. Would you look at that? The pompous son of a bitch wants to go blab about himself. Someone should go tell him to shut up.”
Rosalie looked to the small stage at the front of the lounge. Sure enough, there was her father, Jason, dressed to the nines in a likely customized Hugo Boss suit, a pink Hibiscus sticking out of his breast pocket. Jason looked around at the crowd, clearing his throat to get the attention of his guests.
“Welcome, everyone! I’m so glad that you’re here and could join me on this fantastic excursion…”
Jason continued his schpeal and Rosalie tuned him out. He was likely talking about how great he was for paying for everyone’s accommodations, or how lucky they were to be spending time with him on this 1K-a-night cruise. Rosalie had heard it all before, multiple times, and she was sick of it, frankly.
What was it about rich people’s money that made them think that they were gods and should be treated as such?
Derek squeezed Rosalie’s hand hard, his nails digging into the back of her hand.
She looked to him in explanation, but he only nodded his head towards the stage.
Where Drew was shepherding Ashleigh up the steps, his hand resting on her backside.
“Yes, as I said, we have two exciting announcements that Evelyn and I could not wait to share with you tonight.”
Jason looked fondly towards Ashleigh and Drew, who were now hobbling towards him. There were resounding gasps and excited squeals, but Rosalie could only focus on Drew.
Drew was still as handsome as the day that she had first met him. His blue eyes sparkled with confidence and charm. He’d grown a beard since Rosalie had seen him last, wafts of brown hair covering his strong jaw. He stood behind Ashleigh, his hands moving to rest on her stomach, and that’s when time stood still.
Because, under Drew’s lithe fingers, was a protruding bump. Rosalie, despite herself, couldn’t help the gasp that formed around her lips, nor the shaking of her hands.
Drew, when he was with her, had told Rosalie that he didn’t want kids. He’d had daddy issues too and didn’t want his offspring to grow up with a messed-up dad. Even though Rosalie desperately wanted a family, she was so in love with Drew that she’d put those dreams aside, for him.
Now, Drew stood proudly cradling his pregnant fiancée’s stomach as he spoke sweet nothings into her ear, looking thrilled to become a dad.
Derek squeezed Rosalie’s hand tightly, then removed it to wrap around her shoulders instead, nestling her into him. Derek’s lips brushed the top of Rose’s head, then her forehead.
“Fuck, Rosie. I’m so sorry. I… he didn’t deserve you. You’re better off without him. Do you want to go?” Derek whispered huskily in Rosalie’s ear, breaths coming out shallowly.
Rosalie didn’t need to feel the tenseness of his arm around her to know that he was pissed. She could tell just by the tone of his voice that he wanted to kill Drew.
Rosalie turned her head so that now her lips would be close to his ear. “I… I should have known. I—No, we need to stay. If I leave now, then Ashleigh and Evelyn will know that they’ve won, and I can’t let that happen.”
Rosalie rested her head on Derek’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace.
Someone kicked her leg under the table. Rosalie raised her head to look at Derek questioningly. His expression matched her own.
“Rosalie? Dear, are you here?” Jason called from the stage, his snake-like grey eyes checking the crowd for his daughter.
“She’s here, you pompous prick!” Grandma Rose yelled to her son, shoving Rosalie gently with a hand to her back. From a distance, Rosalie heard Stiles guffaw. She imagined that Lydia smacked him in the head while trying to control her own laughter.
Jason scowled, but ignored his mother, watching with a forced smile as his daughter and her ‘fiancé’ ascended the stairs. Derek had a tight hold around Rosalie, who had forgone her shoes in the shock of the moment. She leaned on him, both physically and metaphorically, for strength.
“Some more good news for my daughters. Somehow, someone managed to put a ring on my dear little Rosalie. Yes, it shocked us, too. Good on you, Derek!” Jason looked to Rosalie’s bare feet. “And it seems he doesn’t mind her habit for walking around barefoot. Welcome to the family, Derek Hale!”
Most of the crowd laughed, Evelyn and Ashleigh’s shrill merriment sticking out the most. Derek held Rosalie tighter. She bit the inside of her lip in an attempt to stay strong.
From Jason’s other side, Drew asked, “Wait. Isn’t that the guy who broke your nose?”
Derek rested his forehead on the side of Rose’s head, huffing into her ear “Yes. That was me. And if you don’t shut up, I’ll break your nose, too, you douche”.
That made her chuckle, and with his arms securely around her, Rose knew that she’d be alright as long as Derek was by her side.
#teen wolf#derek hale#derek hale fic#derek hale fanfiction#derek hale x oc#tyler hoechlin#derek hale au#derek hale fluff
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Hi there! I hope you’re well. I just wanted to send a message to thank you for the elyan content 😍 he is my favourite knight but for some reason I never see much of him on tumblr! So it’s awesome to see him on your blog. I hope I didn’t bother you with this ask 🙈
I AM doing well, actually! And you didn’t bother me, asks will probably never bother me <3
I could go on for a million years about why no one makes content about Elyan - and sometimes forget he exists altogether - but I don’t wanna start drama so we’ll just. Not touch that topic with a 10-foot pole
BUT! Elyan IS a fantastic knight, and the fact that he is your favourite knight too is very iconic and sexy of you. Elyan fans/stans are the sexiest members of this fandom. That’s not even opinion, that’s just science
So! Here’s a list of Elyan headcanons, because he’s worth it:
Elyan is ace. Them’s the facts
He’s also gay but in that stage where he’s questioning if he might be bi. Unfortunately, he died before reaching an answer
I hate to talk about Hogwarts Houses in 2020, but he is one hell of a Hufflepuff. Elyan is his name and protecting his loved ones with life and limb is his game. It is very easy to earn his loyalty, and once you have he will ride straight through Hell for you
Elyan likes hoods. He wears hoods whenever he can (i mean c’mon, that outfit in season 3 was serving some killer looks)
He’s just a protective older brother to literally everyone in Camelot. Yes, even Gaius
Gwen, Elyan, Leon, and Merlin have family game night once every month. They all gather in their old house in the lower town to get drunk, play some dice games, and spend the whole night goofing off
Only a few people know about game night. Even fewer people have seen it with their own eyes. Arthur and Gwaine frequently try to sneak in to see game night for themselves, but somehow never succeed
Elyan loves swimming. They don’t get many chances for it, but whenever they do, Elyan is the best swimmer out of all the knights
He’s also like. Really good at sneaking up on people. Consistently rolls high on stealth checks
Out of everyone in the Round Table, Elyan is the most easily spooked. He hates it when they gather around the fire to tell ghost stories, bc he will NOT be able to sleep the rest of the night after that
Why do people think there’s no dynamic or chemistry between Elyan and Gwaine??? Those two had a SOLID friendship and I will not stand for this disrespect (also, Perelyan is good but Elyaine is godtier imo)
Elyan is bad at blacksmithing. Like really bad. No one even understands how that works, considering he spent his whole childhood training under his father. All the blacksmithing talent apparently went to Gwen somehow
He likes bugs. When he was a kid he would go out in the woods and collect beetles and stuff to stick in little terrarium jars. He’d even give them names and backstories and personalities. Sometimes he would sit under a tree and tell Gwen stories about all these adventures his bugs would go on when no one was looking
Leon HATED bugs, and got creeped out by them, which meant Elyan was legally obligated to harass him about it
Elyan doesn’t get much chance to catch bugs anymore, but he’s also the only member of the Round Table who can put up with spiders
Spider in the armory? Everyone is freaking out while Elyan just calmly picks it up and lets it outside - but not without lots of snark and eye-rolling, of course
The reason Elyan ran away from home was because his mother had died and he saw it as a personal failing. He felt that it was his fault she was dead, because he couldn’t protect her, and left Camelot because he couldn’t bear the shame of guilt
In the last few years of his time away from Camelot, Elyan fell in love and lived out an mlm cottagecore fantasy where he and his lover raised wyverns together. But when Morgause came to capture him, she killed his lover and burnt their wyvern farm to the ground
Elyan tries not to let his grief be known, though. Not just because he doesn’t want to burden Gwen with his pain, but also because his lover had magic and he could get arrested for having fallen in love with a sorcerer
Morgause had Elyan captive for a while before Gwen showed up. She even used the nathair on him in small increments; not long enough to kill him or damage him irreparably, but enough to make him suffer. It’s for this reason that Elyan was able to bounce back from being tortured by Morgana whereas Gwaine didn’t survive it, because Morgause had already microdosed him with that kind of pain two years ealier
Still traumatizing, though. Like. This boy is EXTREMELY traumatized, can someone please get him some therapy???
Moving back to Camelot with Gwen was simultaneously healing and harming. Healing, because he visited his dad’s grave, rebuilt his relationship with Gwen, and his companionship with her, Merlin, and Leon helped him move on from the pain of his loss. But harming because of all the anti-magic prejudice that surrounded him, and every time someone said magic was evil it was like another dagger in his heart. That was his dead lover they were talking about and calling a monster. Someone who was kind and compassionate and funny, who didn’t have a lick of evil in them, who would have burned at the stake by Camelot’s laws
Elyan didn’t think about what it meant to be a knight of Camelot when he agreed to be knighted. But he was just so determined to fight and kill Morgause, the woman who had killed his lover and his wyverns and abducted him from his home, that he didn’t even think about it. He just wanted Morgause dead. It wasn’t until a few days later when he realized that being a knight of Camelot meant enforcing Camelot’s anti-magic laws, and this realization naturally caused him distress
Instead of abandoning his knighthood, Elyan found a compromise. He would support Arthur in everything, until magic got involved. If Arthur ever captured druids or put sorcerers to death, Elyan decided he would smuggle them out of the city. He would never actively kill or capture those with magic, and would sometimes even try to sabotage efforts in capturing harmless magic-users
Elyan knew full well what Dragoon was doing. He knew that Gwen and Arthur’s love was true and required no enchantment, meaning Dragoon had simply framed himself to get Gwen out of a jam. He appreciates Dragoon, and even though he supposedly killed Uther, Elyan can’t even fault him for that. Elyan wanted to kill Uther too
Merlin is the little brother Elyan always wanted, and Elyan is the older brother Merlin never had. They act so much like siblings it’s not even funny, and some people question if they were actually raised together
He and Merlin like to team up and tease Gwen. They’ll walk behind her and chant stuff like “Gwen and Arthur sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G”. They’re like children, and it’s both very funny and very annoying
Gwen gets her revenge, of course. She always gets her revenge
They also team up to be like. Super protective of Gwen. The vetting process Arthur had to go through - between Elyan, Leon, AND Merlin - in order to date Gwen was ridiculous
Arthur: Merlin I’m literally your boss. Your friend. You've been my personal manservant for like six years now
Merlin: Yeah, which means I know exactly how much of a dick you are
After being possessed by the druid ghost, Elyan is a lot more in tune with the supernatural
Am I suggesting that Elyan can now see, talk to, and interact with ghosts, and even starts a little agency where he goes around helping them complete their unfinished business? Why yes, yes I am
When Gwen was banished, Elyan wanted to go with her. But she asked him to stay behind and keep an eye on Agravaine, as she suspected him of treachery, and to stop him from taking over Camelot should Agravaine make a move. And, well, Elyan has never been able to say no to his sister
Elyan and Merlin decided to try and find a way to prove Gwen’s innocence. There’s no way she was acting of her own accord, after all. There was some kind of enchantment at play, there had to be. Merlin doesn’t tell him about Shade!Lancelot directly, but does propose it as a theory regarding how Lancelot had come back from the dead. Elyan supports the theory 100%
About two months after the wedding, Merlin and Elyan locate the enchanted bracelet, and Gwen and Lancelot’s names are finally cleared
In Avalon, Elyan, Freya, and Lancelot spend the whole time watching/narrating the events of season 5 like sports commentators. They are all mutually exasperated at Merlin’s antics
When Arthur shows up in Avalon, the only reason Elyan doesn’t punch him in the face is because he’s too busy restraining Lance from doing the same
He does, however, give him a strong talking-to about how “all your magic and you still can’t save my life” is a horrible thing to say actually
Lancelot, however, is more upset about the “I guess I was wrong” speech
Gwaine shows up in Avalon like. SUPER traumatized. He died while being tortured by a nathair, died in a way that he perceived to be failure, and he’s kinda messed up because of that. Elyan, who has already had a few years to cope with nathair torture, is the one who helps Gwaine heal from his trauma
In the 21st century, Elyan gets reincarnated along with everyone else. His childhood is plagued with weird dreams, dreams that terrify him. Snakes and pain, wyverns and fire, all of it. He meets an old man who calls himself Merlin, who helps Elyan through the pain of remembering his past life. For once, Elyan gets to be taken care of instead of the other way around. For once, he is allowed to be vulnerable and weak and struggling. He doesn’t hide his tears. He gets the help he needs and works through his trauma
And one day, many years later, he is walking down the street when he sees someone who looks oddly familiar. The face of an old lover, perhaps
Thanks for the ask! <3
#Merlin Fandom Stop Forgetting About Elyan Challenge#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#merlin#bbcm#ask#fish post
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Here’s a silly little thing I did on request for @crunadh for the prompt “Healing”. What if love has actually healing powers – or at least Geralt believes it does?
2.183 words, Rated T, read under the cut or on AO3
"Oh. Oh! Yeah, right there. Go ahead, uh... don't stop... a little harder..."
"You're embarrassing," Emhyr muttered, but he actually didn't stop. His hands vigorously kneaded Geralt's back, and the latter's muscles responded to it like butter to sunshine.
"The word you're looking for is enthusiastic," Geralt replied with a groan. "Who knew you were so good at it? You're a natural. Oh, yeah, right there!"
"We have servants for that sort of thing," Emhyr returned.
But he still didn't stop. His fingers squeezed with just the proper hardness to relieve all the tension his spouse had gotten after his training. The same had probably been right by stating that even a horse needed regular exercise and that he needed to resume it. The comparison seemed somehow indecent to Emhyr, but in the end, it was probably apt – a witcher without exercise was useless, and if he had to compare it to anything, it was perhaps to a well-trained soldier, whose skills would rust without regular training. Oh, all these comparisons were useless because in front of him on the bed, completely naked and with tangled hair, lay his husband, and he knew exactly what this sight did to him.
"That's right," smirked the latter now. "But you like it. You like it so much that you..."
He uttered the last words in Nilfgaardian, another thing he had begun to practice again lately. This earned him a hearty slap on the backside.
"Your pronunciation of arse leaves much to be desired."
"Maybe so, but you have healing hands," Geralt growled delightedly underneath him. "You will find..."
He suddenly fell silent. Emhyr, who had noticed that even Geralt's buttocks were tense and had begun to loosen them with a vigorous kneading, asked irritably, "What?"
Deft as a snake, Geralt wriggled around under Emhyr's dexterous hands, accidentally presenting a first success of the latter's efforts.
"You know," he said, unusually serious, "you actually have the ability to make me feel better when you touch me."
Emhyr snorted. If there was one thing Geralt was not, it was romantic; and he had not for a moment supposed that this desire for a post-exercise massage had any meaning other than a new form of foreplay that his witcher loved so passionately.
"It's true," Geralt protested, "healing hands."
"Oh, really?"
Emhyr thought this was nothing more than a strange but somehow cute form of dirty talking, and wordlessly he brushed off his dressing gown.
Geralt's eyes lit up on his reply, "Let me show you what these hands can heal."
-:¦:-
A few days later, their breakfast was graced by Ciri's presence, who was now back in the palace more often and had begun to take a renewed interest in her future duties. Her morning greeting faltered when she noticed Emhyr's left hand resting on one of Geralt's thighs.
"I beseech you, at breakfast? You can't keep pulling the young married couple card all the time."
Geralt merely grinned, but Emhyr, on whose stoic countenance her insolence bounced that morning, calmly brought the teacup to his mouth and took a sip before answering.
"The leg is aching," he simply replied, and Ciri's expression became compassionate.
The effects of multiple fractures and magical healing were more noticeable some days than others, she knew this, and so Ciri asked with interest, "And that helps?"
"Sometimes," Geralt said. Then he grinned again. "I've told your father before that he has healing hands, but he won't hear of it."
Ciri screwed up her face as if he had made a dirty joke, but then she suddenly mused, "You know, there might even be something to it. I once read about how lovers can actually develop healing abilities when they interact with each other."
"That's nonsense," said Triss, who had just entered the room.
"Well, in this case, I guess you can talk about relief as a priority, but what if there's something to it? Love can release endorphins..."
"Healing is due to the body's own substances, which can be triggered with magic, but certainly not by love," Triss said, and thereupon a somewhat heated discussion broke out between the two, which soon encompassed utterly different topics.
-:¦:-
The matter was forgotten for a while as everyday life had a grip on them, but like flashlights, it brought itself back to mind repeatedly. Such as when Emhyr – which, given his idiosyncrasy of often poring over papers in an uncomfortable pose until late at night occurred not so rarely – experienced a headache. Geralt, who had already tried in vain hours ago to lure him away from this work to get some rest, had put his hands on his husband's cramped shoulders, pressed a kiss on the back of his head, and looked over his shoulders.
"That can wait until tomorrow," he said firmly.
And Emhyr, quite contrary to his habits of not being distracted from a task, had actually put down the quill, laid back his head, and let his spouse handle his shoulders. Geralt had to think of the countless times Emhyr's presence, his touch, the mere feeling of his hands in his had given him a sense of relief.
"There is something to it after all," he said thoughtfully.
"Hmm?"
"Healing hands," Geralt replied, "What if that really works? On both sides?"
"Don't be silly. There's nothing healing about it. Your fingers just happen to rest on neuralgic points and cut off the pain supply, that's science, Geralt."
Despite the pretentious tone, Geralt had heard exactly the essential point from these words. He leaned over, nuzzled his cheek against Emhyr's, and whispered, "That means you don't have a headache anymore?"
Emhyr looked at him in surprise but had to silently admit that this was true. And he, too, remembered countless occasions when it had been this way – Geralt had a talent for making a difference with a single touch, and no doubt it was the same the other way around. It was intuitive, something neither of them had ever consciously thought about. The soothing effect of a hand, even fleetingly placed on tense muscles. Fingers intertwined, untangling strained thoughts. A firm stroke over the back after a nightmare. The gentle touch on temples that were taut from endless brooding. As Geralt had said: the ability to make the other person feel better just by touching them. He had to admit that there was indeed something curative about it.
-:¦:-
The implications of these findings, if taken seriously, were remarkable. They both mulled over these considerations without actually talking about it, and almost unconsciously, the mutual touching increased. If the reason they were doing each other well with this was their mutual affection, it only seemed to strengthen it. In other words, Geralt and Emhyr could not keep their hands off each other. As if to regularly reassure themselves that their touches had the desired effect, they touched each other more and more frequently. It was undoubtedly an exciting boost for their love life, which had never suffered from too little attention, but now reached unexpected new heights. It almost seemed as if they wanted to combine true love's kiss with true love's touch, but if they were enchanted, this spell could not be broken.
Although they had rarely hidden their affection, it seemed even more apparent now, and they were seen holding hands in the palace more often than before. It seemed to lift the general mood. As far as Emhyr was concerned, it would have been an exaggeration to say that he displayed certain contentment. But overall, everything seemed as bright and rosy as it should be for newlyweds.
Nevertheless, everyday difficulties had not disappeared, as became apparent one day when Ciri accompanied a limping and cursing Geralt to the infirmary set up by Triss. They had been hunting together – a concession they had both wrested from Emhyr, for Ciri, too, needed a balance to the duties she had, after all, voluntarily accepted. It quickly became clear that this balance could not be found in the ever languishing Movran Voorhis, which had led to some disagreements and the latter's near resignation. After those waters were smoothed, Emhyr had agreed, to the astonishment of both Ciri and Geralt, that she could occasionally accompany him when he took on a contract – nothing too dangerous, nonetheless.
This time, something had gone wrong, and it was only thanks to Ciri's quick intervention that Geralt escaped with a dislocated kneecap and a broken arm, while she herself only suffered a few scrapes. As always, Emhyr had been notified immediately, and he watched the treatment of his court sorceress with a wary eye, holding Geralt's hand.
Ciri, observing that Geralt apparently used the touch to nearly break his spouse's hand between a string of juicy curses, which the latter stoically accepted, said at one point in surprise, "Say, you two, you didn't really take that seriously, did you?"
"What?"
"Me, rambling on about the healing power of love the other day. I was just teasing you, but apparently, I started a little something..."
Triss, who had just conjured up a magical ointment for the re-set kneecap with flowing hand movements, looked up at Ciri and replied, "Well, I for one took it seriously."
As all eyes turned to her, the sorceress could not prevent a certain blush from shooting into her cheeks.
"What? It's not so far off, even though I was skeptical at first. So if you were just making it up, Ciri, you were amazingly clairvoyant. Love may release hormones that can relieve pain, among other things – so, for instance, with a touch."
To everyone's surprise, Geralt started laughing, and even Emhyr showed a slight smile.
"It's clear you were messing with us," Geralt said to Ciri. "However, I have to admit; there was something rather stimulating about the idea..."
"Oh please, don't elaborate," Ciri moaned with a disgusted expression. "If I had known that you would become the purest lovebirds after this…"
"I guess you fell into your own trap there, girl," Emhyr opined. "When apparently it can be scientifically proven that there is some truth to your love theory."
"I didn't say anything about it being scientific," Triss interjected. "There are only a few writings by physicians on this."
"Doctors aren't scientific enough for the sorceress, that's it," Geralt sneered but quickly regretted it when she turned to treat his arm.
"We can test out which one you prefer," she replied calmly. "Traditional splinting of the bone as done by barber-surgeons, often with little accuracy, wraps of dubious hygiene and at most weekly dressing changes, as recommended in the now obsolete but still used publication Osseous Therapeuticus. In the meantime, you can try a lot of loving affection; it allegedly promotes the healing process and, in some cases, shortens it. However, some report that the pain is a bit detrimental to libido. Or we might do it my way. That hurts, too, but instead of hoping for a dubious result for about two months, you can move your arm again without any problems in a week. I still recommend holding hands with the other arm, though. "
The others stared at her, speechless, until Geralt, feeling quite powerless at the moment, finally inquired, "You made that book up, didn't you?"
Emhyr, on the other hand, stated, "In this case, I trust entirely in the healing abilities of truly competent hands," which, of course, settled the matter.
-:¦:-
That evening, however, when they were alone, and it was up to him to take care of his spouse, which essentially consisted of making him comfortable, Geralt couldn't help but remark, "And I still think there's something to it."
"Well," Emyhr commented rather dryly, "it's obviously some dubious science, but this thing about releasing hormones..."
"Not that," Geralt interrupted him. "It's only logical; you can find some writings about it at Kaer Morhen, though these days they might not be considered particularly ethical. Still, I think the idea that true love can heal..."
"That wasn't what Ciri was implying," Emhyr interrupted him, frowning. "Hold on. You knew about this hormone thing and all that all along? But you tried to make me believe in the power of love?"
Geralt made a somewhat embarrassed impression. Emhyr raised his brows – which, depending on his mood, could mean anything from mockery to skepticism to blatant rejection. This time, however, it was something else.
"I would consider that a touch of romance; however, I suspect you had some baser instincts."
With one arm in a sling, Geralt's shrug turned out a bit awkward.
"Well, it worked," he returned. "You were very affectionate lately."
"That's the dumbest thing I've heard lately," Emhyr blurted. "You don't think there would have been any other way to achieve this.... aim?"
"Oh yes, certainly," Geralt admitted bluntly. "But it was more fun that way. And healing it was in any case."
"You're such an idiot," Emhyr muttered, shaking his head. "Why do you think it was healing?"
Geralt grinned, and Emhyr instantly regretted his question.
"Sexual healing."
#writing#fanfiction#Emhyr x Geralt#Geralt x Emhyr#Emralt#Witcher 3 Fanfiction#Witcher fanfiction#Rarepair#The Witcher Rarepair
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