#yes i know most of this is me projecting how touch starved i am

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

zeddison headcanons because i want them both and i need them back neow

they're both queer (not really a niche headcanon but i'm putting it)

it took zed many months to get over the dog imitation habit

(ignoring the queer headcanon for a sec) addison is the biggest ally to ever ally. like one of those obnoxious allies but it works for her

^full on rainbow cake and celebration when literally anyone comes out, but she'll also be lowkey if requested

they are "me? obsessed with you? yes, yes i am" personified (about each other, ofc)

addison was zed's anchor when it came time to learn how to control his zombie state (similar to kipo and her anchor from kataow)

addison knows enough of the zombie language to have conversations but struggles with pronunciation (i'm slightly projecting with this one i fear)

they're literally always holding hands or linking their arms/pinkies (literally canon)

addison lets zoey dress her up and do her hair, especially after she got her true alien hair

^zed has a whole album of pictures of addison after zoey's makeovers (simply just because he loves them both so much, literally only like 3 were taken for funny reasons)

zed has dyscalculia but thought that it was just a zombie brain issue for the longest time (yes, he's canonically top of his class. yes, i'm giving him dyscalculia. both can be true)

^once he figured out what he had, he had to be practically begged by addison and his friends to ask for accommodations

addison is insanely touch-starved but presents herself like she's not (i definitely feel like dale and missy weren't the most physically affectionate parents, and i assume that angie (her most touchy relative) died when addison was young)

addison is closer to eliza and bonzo than zed is to bree (this is pretty much supported by a handful of scenes in the movies but whatever)

^don't get it confused, zed and bree are still very friendly to each other, as she is addison's best friend and bonzo's girlfriend

addison's baked dessert of choice is muffins, especially fruit muffins

^zed hates the sensation of cooked fruit (we're projecting again) but he eats them anyway to make addison happy

^once addison finds out he doesn't like cooked fruit, she then feels really bad for giving him so many muffins to taste-test and recruits zoey and bonzo instead

zed is greek (at least on his dad's side, due to the "-polis")

zed ends up pursuing a career that does not require more years of school due to his gifted-kid burnout (we all know he has it) being so bad

^addison most likely pursued something in the hospitality industry, became a politician like her mom (but like an actually good one), or became a defense lawyer

^i also feel like addison's the breadwinner of their relationship (not that that matters in the slightest just a thought)

[wxnheart]

Sanguinius x reader part 7 (final). NSFW:

You woke to warmth and the feel of two heartbeats under your cheek. You opened your eyes and it wasn’t a dream. You were lying on the Angel’s chest, his arms and wings wrapped tightly around you, fast asleep. And you remembered.

You remembered how touch-starved and desperate you both were, when he first brought you into the bed, how you could barely take your hands off each other long enough to undress.  The fumbling for belts and buttons was familiar, and it was comforting to know that the Primarch did not always move with perfect grace.

You remembered the moment of disorientation you felt at being so very small, and how that feeling dissolved when he slid a hand between your thighs, his eyes burning as bright as stars. You remembered how, as he touched you, he caressed your back with his wing, and you felt the exotic, incredible sensation of feathers and powerful muscle beneath stroking your bare back. How you arched into the touch and your cries echoed in the silent room.

You remembered having worried about how you could possibly please a winged demigod who was twice your size, and how those worries evaporated as he melted under your touch. He was reserved at first, but you could hear how his breath caught. You looked at Angel’s naked body in awe; he seemed like a work of art carved from marble. But it was clear no one had seen to his human needs in a long time.  You remembered how powerful, how humble you felt, as your Primarch’s thighs shook under your hands and tongue. And how his restraint finally broke with a shuddering groan.

You remembered reaching out to touch his wing, running your fingers over soft feathers. He gently caught your wrist, kissed your fingers and said, “perhaps next time.” There would be a next time. Your heart soared.

You remembered how you both had kept going until time itself stopped. And how, just before you fell asleep, he asked, “you are mine now, yes?”

How could there be anyone else? “Yes,” you whispered.

“I need you to say it. Tell me.” You looked up at him, his eyes were wild, manic. You realized he needed your reassurance, and of course he did. His ability to trust was shattered. And yet, he had left himself so vulnerable to you, an ordinary human.

You met his gaze, and said with all the resolve you could project, “I am yours, my Angel.” His expression changed to one of absolute adoration, filling you with warmth and light.

--

The Angel watched you fall asleep, and wondered how he would keep you close, and yet keep you safe, in the war to come. Now that you were his, he would not give you up. He had denied himself so much, in the name of duty, to fight his Father’s wars and to care for his sons, who needed so much. Surely, he could have this one indulgence, this one exceptional being, to be his light in the darkness.

His discipline had slipped when he had told you how his gifts let him see his opponent’s – or lover’s – next move. He had sworn he would never again tell his secrets to anyone not of his Legion. And when he saw the wicked look cross your face, he felt a sudden chill. He’d said more than he should, left himself open, you could use that to hurt him and –

And then you had smiled and put his finger in your mouth. Such a sweet gesture, was this what you thought was wickedness? Relief flooded him, followed by a longing so sharp it was painful.

His perfect recall meant he would forget no detail of this night. But he knew that the memory he would cling to the most often in the coming weeks and months would be the moment your soft moans changed from “my Lord” to “my love.” He had struggled to catch his breath from the flood of joy that filled his hearts on hearing it.

You were his now, and he would not let you go.

-New Fic Writer Anon

[pysoch]

More medic projection writing I am a raging inferno and winter is my fuel

~========~

I am unhappy.

There is a calendar above my door with a small red 'x', still reeking of alcoholic scent and prone to smearing. It lays drying along the number reading twelve. Above it is an ordeal of characters illustrated in a ridiculous situation with the year, 1958, off by five years. I know this because it is not Thursday as that twelve reads. Alas, I made do with the poor supplies I was given. It serves as a good distraction above my tattered cot that ought to have been replaced many seasons ago. In fact, it's the only thing I can keep my eyes on at this time of night.

I hear others through the thin wood walls throwing around a light atmosphere with one another. I'm well aware it is self sabotage to not lift myself up and throw myself in the midst of them and instead sit in a dark, dirty closet only able to fit myself if I scrunch up my knees just enough to where it's uncomfortable. Through the thin and cobweb-lined window I can see the outside brings fresh snow that will cover each bullet fired today and melt in spring to unearth them. Nature had a cycle like I do, which was a comforting tune to fade into. Both of us hide the ugly of our fall under layers of white. Fortunately, I'm not as easy to melt. It took very few times before I had taught himself comrades were temporary and family was burden. The one time I had gotten myself wrapped up in such things as relationships on this team ended in a horrific disaster of my mentality switching between euphoric pages and flipping to chapters of social dysphoria with internal loneliness. No matter how much I threw himself at opportunities to break down this little cage I fashioned myself in, there was no interception. I had given up once and for all.

Even doves brought no companionship anymore. A dear, tender place in my heart is reserved for those gorgeous breathing treasures. Yet they cannot talk to me. They cannot comfort me. I cannot feel a loving wing wrap around my back and tell me I am loved. What a twisted little thing that is. I've imagined that exact scenario more than there are veins in my wrist and yet it disgusts me like no poison can. Even now, my nose scrunches in disdain at such a foolish thought as affection. I'd be a liar if I were not to mention how this was tailored, too. It's a vicious turn of desiring such companionship and touch then being a snarling savage at the first cautious reach of a hand.

Yes, an animal describes it quite well. I must not bring myself to that metaphor again. Each hint of wild thought such as freeing myself of mankind and running through earth under my bare skin is almost an escape in itself. I always drift to being like a wolf, ears pinned and eyes narrowed while my tail makes waves in the wind and my paws scratch the ground with callused flesh. Near the end of my travels a crack splits the sky and fires through my skull until I'm a panting, miserable beast on this cold and unforgiving soil as the men who struck the clouds come to catch their prize. What joy it is to be praised like that! A worthy creature for taxidermy, or surely study! Yet when they sling me over their shoulders and throw me in a pit of rotting foxes, I know that it was only a dream. Such a fantasy is better kept deep within me, yes, yes. So is that far buried desire for death.

It all wraps back to what I crave like a starving man. Importance. I could have medallion after medallion tacked on my wall with silver nails and I'd still long to be strung up instead. Not a pleasant thing to most but to me, oh, what a blissful thought. Autopsies are envied by my cold eyes and unable to be executed by my hands. I become lost in the idea of our roles being turned and my own corpse having fingers pressed into it at every angle, admiring that I used to be a beating soul who strained each function of my weary vessel until they all collapsed. My body could be severed into pieces unidentifiable by man, yet if one person were to pick up the piece and let a flash of a memory dart their mind, I'd find my death a significant victory.

Death is as fleeting as life and just as permanent. That's what is brought to me when I hear a thud against the wall and feel a faint vibration in my head followed by the freshly post-pubescent voice laughing beyond reach. My paws stop running along those leaves, and they pause to hear that crack. None occur. Only the drift of that calendar page flitting up and down is heard, and the twelve now solidified in ink. My ears are still perked for the fire to reign through my skull, but the more I sit and wait, the less likely are the gamesmen to see me or raise their instruments against my flesh. I turn around and trudge quietly through the path where I came. Perhaps tonight death is not my savior, but my study. That bullet doesn't quite have the lead loaded deep in the chamber. I am alive.

And I am unhappy.

~=======~

(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[tongue---tied]

HI!!! Red Dwarf or the ask meme please! I'd much like to know your interpretations and thoughts! <3

Im throwing this under a cut because, boy, this is gonna be a long one

❤️Favorite character

This won't come as a surprise to many of any of you but, yeah, it's rimmer. I want to put him in situations, I want to take him out of situations, there's the full duality there. I relate to him a lot (which probably isn't a good sign lol) and I strongly believe you cannot have red dwarf without him (i mean, look at the ratings for season 7 even with the girlboss that is kochanski). His character itself has such good potential, the angst that comes with being a hologram, the touch-starved-ness (?), his entire childhood, his need for academic validation even 3 million years into the future when all who would care anyway are dead, I could go on forever.

👿Least favorite character

Don't do this to me man 😭 I don't even know if I have one?? At least not out of the main crew. There's no character that actually makes me vibrate with rage in a bad way... If I did really have a think it would probably be a one-off character that was only in one episode and never mentioned again. Oh! I've just remembered, some fanon interpretations of Toddhunter honestly made my skin crawl with how horrible he is, but obviously that's just fanon, and some fanon interpretations have him as honestly a really good meaning guy- looking at you, Work Thing ;)

💐Comfort character

If you can't guess at this point I honestly don't know what to say. It's rimmer, look I know I know, the comfort character who has had no comfort in his entire life/death but *slaps roof of car* this baby can fit so much projection! He's so varied, he's gay to me, he's bi to me, he's autistic to me, he has ptsd to me, he's yearning, he's in denial, he's just- HE *I am dragged away by a lone hand through the doorframe before I can continue*

😍Character you have the biggest crush on

Are you sensing a theme yet 😐 I'd say I don't wish to be perceived for this but let's be honest, my tags reveal all, and the majority of the fandom agrees. It's Rimmer. Again. Slightly outing myself as an x reader enjoyer here. *shaking him* I could fix him I really believe I could. (I'm glad you're the one who sent the ask, Lexie, we can both bond over being self shippers lol)

🤝Character you relate to the most

WHY IS IT ALWAYS RIMMER ON THIS ASK GAME PLEASE HELP😭😭😭 Hes a stickler for the rules (as long as they benefit him), he's probably autistic, he loves hammond organ music (very disappointed that he hates my main man Glenn Miller though 😔), he was an outcast for most of his childhood, he was bullied, he spirals at the slightest bad thing. I'm starting to really sense this isnt a good thing 😭 (I swear I'm doing okay I've got a good support system please don't worry)

🔥Character you think is overrated

I don't know?? 😭😭 I think all of red dwarf's characters really add to the material as a whole, and hey, it's not like this fandom is really big enough for overrating anything. I might say Duane Dibley, because yeah he's funny, Danny really performs well as that character but I don't really understand as to why he was so much of a fan favourite that they brought him back (for season 6 I think it was?) So if I had to say one character it would be Duane.

🧨Character you love to hate

*smacking my face against the doorframe* its rimmer again 😭😭😭 he's such a prick, especially in the early seasons man, I simultaneously want to look after him and throw him against a wall. I contain multitudes, it's okay

🙈Character you always forget exists

I guess I'd have to say Holly? He's got brilliant comedic timing and delivery (as Lovett and Hayridge) but the fact she was cut out in the later seasons and then brought back in season 8 and then gone again in the more recent ones just feels disjointed so she's easily forgotten sadly. (Yes I use she/he pronouns for Holly, she's genderfluid to me <3)

🐰Favorite non-human character

I'm gonna be honest, it would really have to be Holly. (I'm discounting Hologram Rimmer because he still sees himself as human in some way and he's had far too much screentime in this post). The comedic timing, the deadpan delivery, that amazing scene where she counts by smacking her head against the screen always makes me howl.

❤️‍🩹Character who deserved better

All of them. All of them. Rimmer, for reasons we've already gone into. Lister, the survivors guilt, he was SA'd at 12?!!, his entire relationship with Kochanski, his alcoholism, crushing loneliness, I could go on. The Cat, his entire species left him and his family because they were old and/or disabled, again loneliness. Kryten, literally in denial about his crew being dead, left alone for over 3 million years and still somehow hanging onto his sanity through episodes of androids, the need to do anything, literally anything to make sure he doesn't think to hard about anything other than laundry, honestly people need to talk about him more. Kochanski, losing her dave, stuck with this dave who looks exactly like hers but is so different, watching him destroy himself, having nothing in common with any of the crew, LONELINESS MAN.

Thank you so much for the ask! This was a long one phew

[marshmellowtea]

willy clarke all prompts for the character ask thing?

YES MY BOY MY BABY BOY

there's a couple questions on here that were also on the last ask game i did with him so prepare for some repeats lmao. also prepare for a lot of rambling because jfc i could not shut up about him </3

1. Favorite food?

y’know favorite food headcanons are stupidly hard for me for no reason other than me overthinking things too hard lol so i’m just gonna steal some headcanons from the discord server and say that he really likes salty snacks like chips and pretzels, he’ll eat whole bags of them in one sitting if he’s not paying attention. i also think he has a soft spot for apples and vanilla ice cream (the latter occasionally with sprinkles, if he’s feeling feisty or regressed lmao).

2. Morning or night person?

i'm gonna lean toward night person, i can see him staying up way too late and finding peace in being up at midnight when the world feels still…..buuut i can also see a case for him being a morning person, like he's used to getting up early, so he tends to wake up before the sunrise most days....this question is weirdly hard to answer for him tbh i really can see him going either way hfgkljKLDF

3. Favorite color

idk if he has a specific fave but i get the vibe that he really likes soft colors, shades that are easy on the eyes. i'm particularly thinking about pastel/really gentle shades of blues, purples, greens and grays, buuut i was also talking to someone in the server (waves at purple if you're seeing this hi <3) about him liking the color pink and that's also a cute headcanon i hold close to my heart hglkdsajf :’)

4. Headcanon(s)?

once again gonna do five here!

i assign this headcanon to all my faves but.....transfem genderfluid will lives in my head and my heart rent free. william can have a little gender okay, as a treat <3

the poor kid is absolutely touch starved, after his mom dies he doesn't really have anyone around to just give him a damn hug (and i have uh. thoughts about the nature of touch in their relationship too but we're gonna put that aside for now ghlkdsajf). the first time tanya holds him he almost starts crying on her shoulder, it's a little overwhelming for him :')

he's autistic! everyone and their mother has this headcanon ik but that's only because it's a good one lmao. i also think he has cptsd (i have THOUGHTS about his childhood okay) and suffers from periods of depression because.....yeah. yeah

i mostly have this headcanon because projection and also i think it's kinda funny hgkljKLDSF but i really like the idea that to the surprise of fuckin everyone, will really likes intense music like industrial or noise music. he'll put it on his headphones and aggressively stim to it, it just scratches a part of his brain for some reason ghdslkjf

basing this off my brother's boyfriend here lol sorry man but while he wears a lot of dark colors, he doesn't actually like wearing them all the time, lmao. he'd like to wear other colors, he just buys a lot of gray and black clothes (when he does have the money to buy clothes at least) because they're comfortable and they match all the other dark clothes he doesn't enjoy wearing, ghkdjf. i'd like to think that in a fix-it au his friends would help him develop a wardrobe that's both comfortable AND more interesting/fun for him to wear <3

5. Sexuality?

asexual! whether his romantic attraction is bi/panromantic, aromantic, or lesbian is kind up in the air for me and/or depends on the au though ghlkadsjf

6. OTP?

i am so fucking weak for willtanya it's not even funny. i am in hell over them <3

7. NOTP?

as stated before i am not big on romantic willmartha.....they're cute and all but hglkdsjf. they just don't do it for me i like them more as friends RIP

8. One way I relate to them

socially awkward neurodivergents. he doesn't know how to talk to people and neither do i goddammit ghkdalsfjKJSD

9. Are they in my top 10?

YES god yes. he's easily top ten in characters in this game, and while my top ten characters of all time tends to shift around depending on my hyperfixations, currently he's definitely up there he's just. waugh. i adore him :")

10. Favorite thing about character?

he's literally just. genuinely a sweet kid. he makes some bad decisions, sure, but i swear basically every interaction we see the real him have with other people is just him being the kindest little guy and i'm hgngnfd ;_; he's fucking baby and he deserves the w o r l d

11. Do they roast their marshmallows until they’re black, or golden brown?

i think he tries to get them golden brown but he almost always drops them in the fire on accident instead RIP

12. Secret special talent?

not roasting marshmallows that's for sure LMAO uhh i think he's actually a fairly good creative writer, both prose and poetry. i also think he's really good with animals as well (something something farmwork in the lawrence fraternity), and he's a surprisingly good singer, though he doesn't sing often. and yes i did put three here i couldn't decide between them ghlkasdfjlk

13. Do they sleep with socks on?

depends on how cold it is, i can see him going either way

14. Are they the type that takes games to seriously?

not at all, no. i think he's mostly just happy to be included most of the time ahh :')

15. What are they like when they’re happy?

canonically he kinda struggles to express himself so i don’t think he’s too different from how he is normally, buuuut i do think he finds himself smiling absently and stimming more often when he’s genuinely happy and content 🥺

16. Excited?

STIMMY BOY!! think hands flapping, bouncing in place, pacing around the room, he just can't keep still and it's so cute 😭

17. Sad?

i think he gets really quiet, tends to shut down and collapse in on himself. i think it can be hard to tell for people who don’t know him well to tell when he’s sad or upset, but with people he’s close to or trusts they tend to pick up on it pretty quickly because he’s a bit clingier/seeks out physical affection with them more than he normally does in addition to him being quieter than usual okay that last bit is more self indulgent than canon based but i think it’s really cute okay ;_;

18. Angry?

mmm this one's a bit difficult but honestly i can like. see him not really being sure what to do with himself when he's angry. i think he gets a bit terse with people, and maybe even lashing out if he's pushed hard enough, but mostly i just see him just bottling it up and stewing in it, trying not to really let himself feel it, if that makes sense. i don't think he gets angry very often, but when he does, i feel like he gets really uncomfortable with himself over it, y'know? i do have some reasoning behind this headcanon but this post is long enough as it is and idk if i can really articulate it properly so ghlkdsjf

[bertie-w-wooster]

jooster things that make me weak at the knees

cheers to the drones club discord for making me cry about jooster at 10am

bertie sitting on jeeves’ lap

jeeves fixing bertie’s tie (then giving him a kiss)

the beautiful domesticity that is this post

the banter (flirting)

bertie, half asleep, clinging to jeeves like a koala while he does household tasks

jeeves giving bertie a hug when he’s in the soup

bertie ‘heart eyes’ wooster whenever jeeves says/does anything

the old married couple bickering

bertie remembering which pieces are jeeves’ favourites and playing them for him

jeeves replacing ‘sir’ with terms of endearment when they’re alone - ‘my dear’, ‘dearest’, ‘my love’, ‘my darling’, ‘my sweet’

bertie absentmindedly humming palestrina (renaissance choral music) that he picked up in choir at oxford and jeeves being shook after hearing bertie only singing nonsense songs he picked up at the drones for so long

the gay confusion over bertie’s straight friends’ problems

jeeves carrying bertie bridal style

bertie complementing jeeves every 3 seconds

jeeves running his hands through bertie’s hair

absentminded kisses on the cheek and forehead

dancing round the flat to a record

bertie eventually persuading jeeves to let them get a cat

jeeves constantly quoting love poetry @ bertie

just them being so bloody in love

[willsimpforanyone]

hi could i request leo valdez romantic hcs with a shy/anxious s/o? just fluff mainly ty! oh and gn reader

honestly i had a huge crush on leo and i am a v v anxious person lol this is perfect (he's like 25-26 in 2021 and that's fucked me up)

--------------------------------

patience of a fucking saint

originally tried to just flirt with you the way he did with other people

quickly realised that just made you feel kinda awkward

immediately felt like shit and ran to ask jason for help jason pls what do i do they're so cute but i don't know how to act like a normal person

jason tells him to chill tf out and maybe stop overdoing the flirting

do leo things

make them something, be funny, just be himself

leo figured he could do that

he could be leo

he didn't always like leo but it was much harder to be someone else

so the next time he saw you, he just smiled big and waved

cautiously you smiled back at him

he had to go to a quiet place to squee

eventually you got to the point where you were requested to help with a project that needed your help

he absolutely didn't need your help but he really wants to spend time with you

leo finds it hilarious that you look slightly out of place in his workshop

you're very hesitant touching anything

or moving too much

or breathing too hard

so he guides you over to his workbench to sit by him while he works

asks you to pass him tools

isn't patronising if you pass him the wrong tool just corrects you gently and thanks you for the right tool

ends up with you two talking for hours about your individual struggles with anxiety

leo deals with his feelings of inferiority compared to the other six in the prophecy

you tell him about your general feelings of impending doom and how they only increased with learning about the gods and all the monsters that are out to get you

by the time you get out of the workshop it's basically midnight and you've missed dinner

leo is undeterred and offers his hand to you

"do you trust me?"

you laugh at the aladdin reference

"what?"

"do you trust me?"

"...yes"

and you mean it

sneaking into the dining area to find food that hasn't been eaten is anxiety inducing but leo's hand is warm and grounding and at one point he touches your shoulder to move round you and you melt internally

it's a bonding moment for y'all

you're very close with each other

hanging out most of the time

it takes him a w h i l e to actually ask you out

because gods above he doesn't want to panic you but he really really really likes you and if he has to spend another day without being able to kiss you he will go insane

okay i've gone into enough detail about pre-relationship

his love language is physical touch he's just always been a little scared to touch anyone in case he sets them on fire

touch starved bby

so as long as you're comfortable with it he will sit you on his lap when he's focusing on a machine or whatever

it takes a little while for you to realise how touch-starved he is

it's only when you brush his hair behind his ear and he fails to supress a tiny whine that you start to be more lenient with physical contact

pls, for the love of all that is holy, play with his hair

head in your lap

he could stay there forever

some of his favourite tiny projects are making fidget toys for your anxiety

you have a collection of spinning rings that he handcrafted with tiny messages engraved on them

always asks you if you're prepared to be around people that day so he can gauge whether he can be loud and hyper around you

if it's a high anxiety day, he'll either try to be calmer or he'll go wear himself out before hanging out with you

is absolutely thrilled when he finds out you've actually figured out how to fix a few things and how to join metal or wood

if he's really bored he'll challenge you to a drawing competition because this guy has to be good at drawing to make comprehensive blueprints

insists that yours is better every time

first kiss was spontaneous

you stained your t-shirt with grease and he offered you one of his spares so you wouldn't have to go outside with a dirty t-shirt

his was a bit big for you and hung sort of mid thigh length

you looked so cute he sprung upon you with a peck on your lips

you blushed super hard and his ears caught on fire but you were actually the one to kiss him properly

finds out that he loves kissing you more than most things in the world

he just has a lot of love to give and he now has a willing participant for his affection and a victim for his hundred-mile-an-hour rants about mechanics

----------------------------------

okay this was very long for 1am i just have a lot of feelings about my boi i love him very much

thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoyed!

[actualbird]

First of all! Hello, Hello!!! Hope you're doing well!

Regarding your - Artem has the oldest daughter vibes - post. HE'S TRANS YOUR HONOUR!!! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW! 😂❤️

But in all seriousness, I gave it some thought and out of all of them, Artem being trans would make the most sense? Just the way he is as a person? You know? *Vaguely gestures with my hands*. One thing that stood out to me was how touched starved and touch averse he seemed? I know it's contradictory but as much as I remember, he was always hesitant to touch Rosa and would be an absolute mess when touched by her?

So what if, it's because he doesn't want to make others uncomfortable with his touch, especially if it's a woman? (And especially if he likes that woman). Because he was made uncomfortable by others, in this case mostly men, when he was younger? I've noticed that most men are far more likely to just casually touch women? Even if the touch isn't sexual/romantic in nature? Like a brush of a hand here, holding a woman's waist while you're passing her in a tight space? Like, you wouldn't do that to a man, so... Artem is just very aware? Like, aware too much, to a point where he can never relax among others?

I might be projecting too much! So please ignore this if you don't agree! It's just something I noticed! Me and my trans friend, we talked about something similar recently - noticed that he would be a bit hesitant to be more physically affectionate with me and we had a long conversation about it!

And... I haven't touched the game in about half a year! 😅 I still love the game! I just "play" it vicariously through you! 😂 So there might have been more things revealed about Artem I'm not aware of!

Please take care! ❤️

- The Hibiscus anon! 🌺 I'M NOT DEAD! 😂

irt despite being a man, artem is eldest daughter all girls catholic school student vibes

oh my gosh, HIBISCUS!! HI HI :DDD!! it's awesome to hear from u again and i hope ur doing well!!!

while i am in no way an artem expert (thats sam) and am pretty behind on his cards, i still shake ur hand so much cuz UR SO RIGHT.

like, listen. at this point ive got a schrondinger's headcanon where certain members of the nxx team or the ENTIRE team is simultaneously not trans or definitely trans/experiencing gender in a non-cis way. yes they are. all the time. but only when it sparks joy in me. also all the time. do u understand, i understand. still, i deffo understand and adore why artem also gives of trans vibes.

like, so much of artem's extreme carefulness with matters of the heart or even just matters of relating to other people personally, the fact that he goes about this in a meticulous and often overthinking manner because he hasnt done it/gotten the chance to experience it much before is something that resonates a lot with a bunch of queer identities. the fact that he holds a lot of himself and his personality/interests close and not many people know him on a personal level, that also resonates with queer experiences. the fact that certain things that are "obvious" to other people are things that are not as obvious to him, also queer (and also also something i like to interpret as a neurodivergent trait, but thats a whole other ask response). hell, even the notion that artem is doing things "later" than is usually expected (like romance).

all of these things (which i guess can be mushed into the over-arching statement of "over-thinking because we didnt experience the world on the usual timeline many other people experience and thus we have to be extra careful to avoid failure") fit well with a BUNCH of queer experiences, methinks

(source: me. cuz im queer and i like artem)

additionally, i got reminded of this awesome response mariuscomehome wrote about artem viewed from a lesbian lens. i DEFINITELY recommend u read it!!!

//smacks artem like a car im selling. THIS GUY CAN FIT SO MUCH QUEERNESS INTO HIM!!!!!

i think i went off on a tangent here but yeah. ur so right. artem trans vibes too, whether it be for fitting theme/characterization reasons or just cuz headcanons are fun as hell anyway :'D

[haik-choo]

karasuno boys as boyfriends

a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))

---

[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]

-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi

---

tsukishima kei.

the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”

runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3

in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.

i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him

you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while

he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys

he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only

he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession 

will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend. 

and you don’t have a problem with that ;) 

yamaguchi tadashi.

he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do

he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth

he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger

NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3

you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good

kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)

yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what. 

YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.

kageyama tobio.

he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever

i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle

DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3

PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol

like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball

he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG

realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too

the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect

he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours 

it was cute tho <3

hinata shoyo.

YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE

when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day 

the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar

it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.

AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--

THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE

he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce 

he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you

his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.

number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle

you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows

YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET. 

i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it

literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless

yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka

the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles

you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited 

kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved

nishinoya yuu.

SUCH an excited boyfriend

like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like

“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!” 

he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red

at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun. 

he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground

he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.

his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them

NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS

the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.” 

sugawara koushi.

would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get  little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours

his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him

never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.

his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two

loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3

he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes 

and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o

whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok

PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo

daichi sawamura.

you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol

boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!

this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor

you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural

daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact. 

his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi

you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol

totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either;  when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)

you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing

doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist

WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF

asahi azumane.

literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.

did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights

needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED

even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough

his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust

OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS

when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft

kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair 

[uwuwriting]

How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are. 

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping. 

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on. 

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer. 

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him. 

-Or at least that’s what he believes. 

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time. 

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you. 

-One of his simping tactics. 

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry. 

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess. 

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips. 

-His heart goes oops. 

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him. 

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it. 

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill. 

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well. 

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile. 

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep. 

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room. 

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far. 

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful. 

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping. 

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on. 

-All out simping no shame. 

-He will straight up give his soul for you. 

-And he is rather proud of that fact. 

-The polar opposite of Bakugou. 

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping. 

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal. 

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down. 

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps. 

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers. 

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds. 

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off. 

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend. 

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND. 

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games. 

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb. 

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door. 

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy. 

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience. 

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call. 

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder. 

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love. 

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes. 

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you. 

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period. 

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask. 

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle. 

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around. 

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you. 

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule. 

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise. 

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room. 

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @bemorefiction​ @dnarez-mangetsu​

[the-ghost-king]

love seeing ur tags on my posts it means i get to think 🥰🥰 anyway mostly agree but at least to me nico’s constant need to prove himself is a sign of feeling like he’s not worth other people’s time and effort and he has to MAKE himself worth it. he does all he can in the hopes that people will notice him and tell him that he’s good enough because he relies on the approval of people he loves. he thinks love is something conditional for him and that he always has to be earning it because he doesn’t have enough worth to have it just granted to him. again this is more my own interpretation of his character and possibly a bit of projection

(Post)

I will not fail to acknowledge that I might also be projecting somewhat onto Nico, what is media but self reflection? I think there's a couple ways you can see Nico that are canonically "correct"

What I personally think happened with Nico is that he was aware he was worth more than the treatment he was receiving, but because so much rejection occurred he eventually just assumed he was the problem. There's things on this I would rewrite now but it holds up okay in what I'm about to try and explain.

The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault.

I think this is something that really describes Nico. He is never able to nestle himself in the comfort of sameness after a certain point. He is not given authority in his own story in the beginning, he is thrust into solitude, he is told he is a monster already and if not then he has no choice but to become one.

And he takes this blame upon himself, believing that it's him who has to prove himself. He doesn't acknowledge that maybe other people have their own biases against him, he says "I have to prove them wrong," and then does his best.

It's important to note that Nico is definitely grappling with Childhood Emotional Neglect, he's in a broken situation- and he recognizes that nobody wants him around, and that he's just more stress for an already stressed group of people, so he just backs down and starts to figure stuff out for himself. We see him accept some help and friendship from The Stolls in TTC but eventually he stops doing this at some point.

His leave from camp and time with Minos is when he is used:

you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this

This is something I would say is very true about this time period of Nico's life. Minos emotionally exploits Nico, emotional neglect and abuse (possibly physical abuse, who knows) are defining characteristics of their interactions. Nico talks about how Minos will just randomly leave him for extremely long periods with no assistance, and about how when he's around he's always telling Nico to try harder, to do better, do more. Note the time he tells Nico "you have no power over me", he's definitely holding things over Nico's head. I don't think it's wrong to assume comfort is a part of that, Nico is alone all the time at this point, and I'm sure he's starved for touch, and support, and connection- and he will take whatever he can get whether or not it is good or right.

At first he doesn't do anything against this, and it might be because he was so starved for attention that he was willing to endure abuse to receive somewhat a consistent form of it. I also think there's some evidence that points to the idea Nico was getting something from Minos, training and similar stuff, it's possible he was willing to form and upkeep a toxic relationship with him in order to gain experience.

However, I do disagree with "and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this" because Nico does realize eventually that his situation isn't sustainable and that he has to do something- so he takes his narrative back into his own hands:

“Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the god of spirits! The ghost king!" "No." Nico drew his sword. "I am.” (X)

So Nico, if he ever thought he was worth the treatment of being used for someone elses personal gain, he definitely overcomes some of it here, if not all of it. Nico is manipulated and used for Minos's personal gain, but he recognizes that it's not sustainable and makes a stand for himself. And this is the first time in the series where Nico truly is able to take control of his own narrative, everything before this moment is Nico being forced, or Nico with something looming over him, Nico crowning himself is him claiming his story.

So let's consider Hades in all of this, I don't think Hades manipulated Nico to the extent Minos did- but nonetheless, he did manipulate and abuse him, and this hurt Nico more than when Minos did it. Again, in the situation with Hades this is also true, "you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing". By the time Nico and Hades truly start interacting, we see that Nico's heart hasn't been fully removed from his sleeve, but it may have been lightened.

Here's the thing about the way Nico approached Hades, it's not naïve to trust family. The text in multiple places implies that Hades was around for at least a handful of years when Nico was a kid, it's not unlikely that Nico may have taken naps on his shoulder, held his hand to cross the street, maybe called him "Papa", "Dad", or "Tata" (Italian, English, old Greek). It makes sense that Nico goes to him, what doesn't make sense to Nico at first is that Hades would manipulate him. Unlike many of the other demigods, Nico knows he was a choice, and that at some point he was something wanted, so he expects some level of okay treatment from Hades. Hades loved his mother, and Hades if not wanting of Nico would have wanted Maria's wishes fulfilled, and Nico probably remembers Hades treating him warmly- or at least not harshly. The way Nico went to Hades makes sense, he wasn't expecting open arms surely, but he also wasn't expecting abuse.

Hades emotionally exploits Nico by using information about Maria, what would a little boy want more than the safety of his mother? He's so starved for human contact, who ever held him more than his mother? Who ever loved him more than her? Once Nico delivers Percy to Hades, his father crushes him, not only by harming Percy but by exploiting Nico's trust through Nico's mother- one of the things he's most desperate for.

We see Nico's heart come off his sleeve at this point, maybe not fully, but enough to where a stranger couldn't recognize it at first glance, and in a way where he has the means to hide it from most.

Except we don't see much of this, because the series is narrated by Percy- and Nico can't hide his heart from Percy.

Almost everything Nico does, everything he tries to do, is for Percy. Nico is so desperate for contact that he is pliant, but in Percy's hands Nico actually wants that contact, he's not interested in imitations of love or substitutes- he's looking for the real thing.

And Mr. Oblivious does-Annabeth-like-me Jackson isn't in any headspace to realize that a boy might like him, let alone Nico. This concern that Nico will join Luke, isn't entirely because Percy is misreading signals, but it's definitely part of it. Nico likes Percy so much that at one point he is willing to go to Tartarus if not entirely for him, then partially for him.

If Percy had realized, and rejected Nico- maybe he would have joined Luke, or at least he definitely would have been more likely to. The perception of Nico we get in PJO from Percy is unreliable, because Percy looks at Nico through the lenses of a concerned older brother, and Percy feels guilty in some way for the situation Nico is in. This gives not only a skewed, but slightly falsified narrative of who Nico is.

The original post of mine I linked, although yes, I would like to rewrite aspects of it now it holds up in the sense that Nico is always trying to prove himself, and this is a bit different than being a puppet. Nico is so starved that it is present in everything, @/arabnico gets it right:

nico’s longing is just so raw it consumes him whole and he cannot hide it at all because it reflects in absolutely everything he does and is nico’s just the means of the way for them and he settles for being it because he doesn’t think he can be much better or even deserves to it is sometting so twisted because nico has this innate utalitarian desire to be useful and to do something and to do the right thing but in the game of things he’s reduced to that puppet in the hands of fate and deities millennia older than him that see a wounded wandering soul doomed to be forever alone by a destiny so cruel it keeps him on his knees

Nico, in PJO especially, has little control over his own narrative. His mother is killed in punishment for his father's "wrongs", Nico is forced to endure this. Bianca grows tired of caring for Nico and leaves him behind, this is not Nico's fault but Nico is forced to endure the consequences of her actions. Bianca's fate is decided on a quest Nico isn't even able to go on, he is forced to endure the results. Nico then breaks the cycle, declaring himself The Ghost King, and dethroning Minos. Nico is forced to endure Hades's manipulation only because he did not see it coming, this wasn't an aspect in which Nico didn't have his narrative (he had already taken ownership of his narrative) but a blind spot in his rational.

The place where we vary is why Nico behaves this way, we can agree that it's because he's starving for human connection- but you believe it's because he has no confidence he is willing to submit himself, while I see his submission as an act of desperation.

Personally, I think to argue that Nico is like this as a result of lack of confidence does a disservice to his narrative (obviously it's fine to view him however you wish, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!). To boil this down to starvation and lack of confidence removes some level of Nico's autonomy in his own life, but also strips him of one of his strongest characteristics- those qualities of him which are like Orpheus.

Nico willing to go to the ends of the earth for love is not a weakness but a strength, his ability to carry on beyond the point in which he needs a rest is not a weakness but a sign of strength. His ability to go to the ends of the earth to right wrongs, and to show his love:

"... Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards."

Cupid is explaining Nico's idea of love in this scene, we see Jason say he prefers Piper's idea of love- but Nico only knows love in the way cupid describes, working desperately for a few moments with Bianca, working just to hear any scrap of information about his mother, always trying to prove himself to Percy- to overcome the way he feels about Percy (and boys in general).

Nico has only known love as something you walk to the ends of the Earth for, but he never stops fighting to be loved and acknowledged. Lesser men would give up and lay down, accept they are unworthy, but Nico keeps pushing to be acknowledged and accepted- to be recognized and loved without having to walk to the end of the Earth, but Nico knows he has to walk to that edge and face it before unconditional love will come to him.

To imply that Nico seeks love the way he does because he's unconfident in his ability to receive love ignores the idea that he's had his life forced into this position because of the fates. It loses acknowledgment to the strength it takes to pick yourself up and walk to the end of the Earth time and time again, because if he was unconfident then he would eventually lay down and accept he shouldn't be loved ever again.

I don't think confidence doesn't play into this at all though, it definitely has some impact on Nico, he does view himself as inherently less (he is overly self sacrificial- think Tartarus :/), and he does try to remove himself from others:

You yourself said: you blame yourself for the way people have hurt you, taken advantage of you, and abandoned you. they exploit your love and your naïveté time and time again. you tell yourself, surely, there must be something wrong with you. because—you are convinced—that people are good. “if they hurt me, it is because i am flawed. it is because i am weak. people will always hurt me—even people i love. it’s an inevitable truth for me.” (X)

And this connects to what I said: "The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault."

I do think there's a reason Nico makes himself so "utilitarian", because he hasn't been handed unconditional love since Bianca. But again we disagree on the why, I see Nico's behavior in his utilitarian example of love as caring, the way more people should be in love. Too many people see love as something given without restraint, and yeah, love should be unconditional but in order for love to be unconditional you have to do the work to lay good foundation. To be utilitarian in loving is not an act of weakness, or a symbol of lack of confidence, it is a showcase of more care in love than most have to offer. We care for things, and place value on them determined by how much love and care goes into those things.

I also don't see Nico's self blaming for what happened as flawed, it's logical in his situation, and a common result of CEN. This self blame shows care and kindness, and this coincides with Nico's arcs, "If I am bad, how do I improve? If I have no choice but to be evil, how do I still be good?". Nico is always fighting not to be recognized for good or bad, but to be recognized for what he is.

Trust is not naivety either, the only reason Nico is regarded as naïve is because of the extreme circumstances of his life. People shouldn't have to expect abuse from people who are supposed to love them, people should have to accept abuse in order to receive love. If Nico's life had turned out different, his naivety wouldn't be viewed as a weakness but a strength- a kindness.

We're not actually viewing Nico all that different, there's this space where his character blurs together, and it becomes an individual duty to determine at what point a flaw becomes a strength, and a strength a flaw. Nico's stubbornness is a flaw if we're thinking about grudges, but it's a strength in his work ethic. Nico's ability to stand on his own is a strength in terms of questing, but it's a flaw when it prevents him from experiencing love in fullness.

[cryptiql]

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks, Pt. 4

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get ready to confront the God of Mischief. But are you ready for that?

A/N: Finally, a bit more Loki.

TW: Eating

After a year consisting mostly of isolation and non-consensual experimentation, it was strange, to say the least, to have people actually give a shit about your well-being.

Shortly after Fury called the meeting to a close, Nat took you to a sort of staff room, oddly normal for a ship like this. State of the art, but with all the basic workings of a regular office’s staff room.

“You must be starving,” she said, pulling some things out of an impressive reach-in refrigerator. “Sandwich? I make a mean ham and cheese.”

Your stomach suddenly let out a worrying growl, and you winced.

“Sounds fantastic, actually,” you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten. The lab hadn’t exactly been feeding you five star meals.

A comfortable silence settled into the room while Natasha assembled the sandwich. The quiet sounds of her work lulled you into a sort of trance, as you stared at the wall, and definitely didn’t think about how an agent of a secret organization was preparing you lunch on a giant aircraft carrier thousands of feet in the air which was also occupied by two gods, a historic super soldier, and the most famous tech genius in the world.

No. You didn’t think about it at all.

She presented you with her finished product and a glass of water with a flourish, which also included a bag of chips and an apple. “It might be too much, so only eat as much as you want. It’s better to take it easy when your stomach isn’t used to meals like this.”

You nodded and gave her an expression which you hoped looked more grateful than grimace. Truth be told, you were holding back emotion as even this small kindness felt overwhelming after the past year.

But as you picked up the sandwich to take a bite, a heavy set of footsteps stopped at the door.

It was Thor, his large frame standing almost sheepishly in the doorway. “Apologies for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

To your surprise, the question was for you, and after a nod, Nat touched your wrist and said, “I’ll be right outside. You can have the room.”

After she exited, Thor approached your table with a sort of caution.

“Oh, sorry, uh, would you like to sit down?” You stuttered lamely, when noticing his hesitation.

He nodded and did so, dwarfing the chair and the table. You hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, how huge his arms and shoulders were. A single bicep was larger than the size of your own head.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal. You need your strength,” Thor said, eyes flicking to the plate. “Especially if you’re going to be facing my brother.”

Ah. That.

“Is that…” You were still having a bit of trouble processing the identity of who you were talking to. “Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Loki’s always been deceptive. I just wanted to warn you not to listen to anything he says, especially not at face value. He will try to distract you, deceive you, and it will seem he knows more about you than he should.”

As he spoke, you noticed he kept eyeing the potato chip packet next to your plate. You pushed it towards him, and he gratefully accepted, popping the bag open and nervously munching on its contents.

You hummed in thought. “I understand. Maybe it would help to know what kinds of abilities he has? What sort of tricks he’s able to pull?”

Thor seemed to relax slightly, having something to occupy his mind and hands. He regaled you with a few anecdotes of how Loki had used his magic to trick him, some from their childhood, and some more recently.

You found yourself both more reassured and more nervous, afraid there might be something you would miss allowing Loki an out. Or a way to hurt you. But all of that aside, it was almost fun to converse with Thor like this… being nearly immortal led to having many interesting stories to tell, and the more he told the more animated he became. He even had you laughing at some points.

“Thank you,” he held up the empty chip bag. “I haven’t had these since my last visit to Earth. A favored Midgardian dish, if I recall.”

You smiled. “No problem. And thank you for warning me. I know it must be difficult to... fight with family like this.”

“Yes,” a sad half smile lifted one side of his lips, “I’m afraid that is something I am still coming to terms with.”

Before he rose from his seat, Thor clapped you on the shoulder. “You know, you remind me of my first Midgardian friends. I believe they would like you. One of them zapped me with a small device that even mimics your powers.”

With that strange but kind remark, Thor left the room.

….

Natasha said she had things she needed to attend to, but that you were welcome to walk around as you pleased, and to just be careful not to stumble into anything that looked even mildly secret or dangerous.

So you aimlessly wandered the giant airship, mostly in an attempt to walk off some nerves. You tried to memorize your paths, memorize the turns and rooms, but after a while you realized just how much you’d fucked up. It was a fruitless endeavor, and you eventually found yourself quite lost.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself.

You turned the way you came, but as you did so, something shifted in the corner of your eye. Whipping frantically towards the movement, you felt your body tense like an animal being hunted, and thoughts of the masked man from the labs flooded your mind.

No, he couldn’t be here. Your mind was playing tricks, your anxiety was getting the better of you.

“My, my,” a silvery voice said into your ear. “You are jumpy, aren’t you?”

Reeling back, you slammed into the opposite wall, nearly knocking yourself out with the force of it. You still didn’t see the source of the voice.

“What is the reason for this skittishness, I wonder?”

Loki.

He materialized in front of you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights. He rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself. This is not an escape attempt.”

You did not find that convincing.

“This is merely a projection. My real body is still in that cell… Here, see for yourself.” His right hand swept out to beckon to you, palm up.

Did he want you to… touch him? Your earlier conversation with Thor filtered through your head, and you knew it would be a bad idea. You did not move. Again, frustration showed on Loki’s creased brow.

“Fine, look.” Then, through a wall of solid steel, Loki passed his hand as if he were just a hologram.

“What do you want?” you asked abruptly.

He looked faintly surprised that you had spoken, but schooled his expression quickly. “I want to know more about you.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised (not that you’d stopped since he materialized from nowhere). “Why?”

“It’s not every day I meet a mortal who can withstand an Infinity Stone’s power,” he chuckled, as if that were clearly obvious.

Your blank stare must’ve clued him in to the fact that the significance of this ‘Infinity Stone’ was lost on you, because he only sighed.

“Rest assured, it’s not something a normal human should be able to do,” he said. “So… what is different about you?”

He stepped closer, and though you knew he couldn’t touch you, you recoiled further into the wall. His stare was piercing, and he clearly enjoyed that it made you squirm.

Finally you mustered up the courage to respond. “I’ve already told this story once today,” you said, sounding more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“Touchy subject?”

“It’s not particularly fun to talk about, no.”

He didn’t move any closer but didn’t relinquish you your space either. He just studied you as if he could discern your entire history from your visual being.

You wondered if you should just turn and walk away, or if he had some way of stopping you. Even more unexpected though, was the realization that you wanted to talk to him, that maybe this conversation could help you in your real life encounter that was to happen soon.

“Why did you approach me in the pub?” you asked, and though it wasn’t the answer he apparently wanted, he looked pleased that you were engaging him now. “I was curious.”

“And when you blasted me with the scepter?”

“I wanted to see what would happen.” He shrugged, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

“And now that you have? What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Then, “What do you think?”

You thought, if he had had a plan before, your presence must have thrown quite the wrench and that if he were smart, he would be trying to figure out exactly how big and disastrous that wrench would be. “I think you didn’t expect me to be involved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is true.” Then a smirk began to form on his mouth and he squinted at you. “They’re planning something with you, aren’t they? Fury and his subordinates.”

Your widened eyes must have been all the answer he needed. How did he know?

With a laugh, “They have so much at their disposal, weapons of mass destruction, all of Stark’s technology, and they defer to the prowess of a child they’ve only just met?” Loki leaned in so close the green of eyes felt overwhelming. “They must be truly desperate.”

A familiar voice, Tony’s, called your name from around the corner, echoing off the metal walls of the hallway. But Loki didn’t move. His eyes remained on you, so sharp and curious, you felt like an animal on a dissection tray.

“Until next we meet, then.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Sparks,” Tony came around to your stretch of hallway. “Thought that was your voice. You lost? Talking to yourself? You know, cabin fever usually takes a lot longer than a few hours to set in.”

Still a little too stunned to speak, you gulped and nodded.

Tony’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You good? Looking a little green around the gills, Pikachu.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright.” Your voice returned to you. “And.. Pikachu? Really?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but seemed to let it go. He shrugged. “I like to change it up-- and are you, or are you not, electrically charged at all times?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. He clapped you on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he turned, waving you to follow him. “Want you to see what we cooked up for ya.”

————

The conducting table was ready. Only a few moments before you stepped into Loki’s cage, the first time you would be in the same physical space as him since he basically almost murdered you.

Cool. All cool. You were definitely not feeling a panic attack setting in. You were definitely breathing at a normal rate and not feeling your lungs seize up in your chest.

“We’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong,” Steve said, laying a hand gently on the back of your shoulder.

“Aye,” Thor said. “I’ll be standing with you.”

There was a stone in your throat as you looked at Loki through the thick glass. He seemed to feel your gaze, and slowly turned to look, grinning when he saw you watching.

Loki’s hands were shackled, sitting on the table in front of two conducting handles, which were mirrored on the other side. The idea was that you both grip them, and you would be able to dig through his mind… theoretically.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” you said. You felt sweat under your arms, and your face getting hot with anxiety.

Fury eyed you. “Just do what you can.”

The door to his cell whooshed open, and flanking you on either side as you entered were Cap and Thor. Loki regarded them with that same smirk as they entered, soon followed by Fury and Natasha. Tony and Dr. Banner remained on the other side of the glass.

“Is this the best you can do?” He said, his eyes flaring at you. “Insulting, really.”

Fury ignored him, directing you to the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“On my go,” he said, and stood to the right of the table. He pinned Loki with a stare.

Loki shot back a challenging look before his gaze settled on you and his hands moved to grip the handles. “On your go.” And at that moment, in full purview of that slanting grin, you understood why he was called the God of Mischief.

Fury nodded at you.

Now or never.

And, sparing a passing thought to the entropy that was your life and the risks of what you were about to do, you grabbed the handles.

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of The Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo takes you to a little noodle shop. Both of you were becoming aware of your own feelings, and during the dinner you were having some interesting conversations.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter 2: The Hunter and the Goddess

You did not know how far Kyungsoo was planning to hold your hand like a treasure. You did not know if he was just enjoying the time then kick you out or he was going to change something between you, as holding hands or asking weird questions did not have a place in your relationship till now. What if he was planning something you never dare to think of? Maybe he’d encourage you to try new things since you were the one who telling that you were bored to death. What kind of new things was the first questions popped up in your mind, you knew Kyungsoo too well, that innocent school kid look was half true, he could put everyone in shame if he wanted to perform his charm and knowledge.

And you, unfortunately, knew that he was quite popular not only for his good-looking or his brain, but also some talents.

But you realized then that if he wanted to give you a demonstration, you would happily accept and let him to use those talents you really tried your best in order to keep yourself from questioning. If the man was Kyungsoo, you could be pathetically submissive and always eager to please him that you would do anything he wanted just to hear him telling you how good you were for him.

You exactly understood the assignment more than you asked for, the whole situation you were willingly putting yourself without an indicator was nothing but stupid, reckless, and risky to your mental and emotional health. There was a real threat ahead of you, if you were going to be over the moon and let yourself to dream the things you certainly could not reach, you would not overcome, and you were going to destroy your friendship with Kyungsoo.

Maybe that’s why you started to shake like stuck inside a blizzard. Kyungsoo sensed it, too. Maybe he thought it was very strange singe you were in the mid of fucking August and the weather was like a preparation room before entering to Hell, however he chose to keep his observation to himself, and he let your hand go.

You could scream.

God, you could scream so bad because of the loss of that bloody precious sensation.

Before you would say something, hell like you could do, he run his hand through your arm and drag you closer to his chest.

“It is about air conditioner.” he said, but in the blink of an eye all you could feel was the warmness, and how good his smell was. “And your little blue dress is literally little.”

His palm contacted your bare skin, the tip of his fingers were close to your neck, his touch was heavy, hot and it had you breathing a little bit faster than usual.

“Of course, my dress is little,” you attempted to save yourself from the misery. “I know it sounds impossible, but I am shorter even than you, Kyungsoo.”

“So funny you are.” the sudden look he gave you made your stomach flipped. “Sometimes I feel like I have to teach you not crossing my limits, I am a man after all.”

“What are you going to do?” you playfully whispered. “Bend me over your knees?”

“You have a point over there.” he was serious. “I would like to do.”

You hoped he did not mean it.

“I just say the truth.” you could not help but push him further. “Since when telling the truth is a sin? Cancel me if you want but sweet Jesus, Soo, you know you are smol.”

“Depends on which point you want to compare me with the other guys.” he claimed. “You never had a proper taste of me, darling girl, I am just a friend to you.”

Well, his comment hurt you, but you bit your tongue and quickly sealed a lid on the boiling heat inside of you. Your fingers rub at your forehead.

Proper taste of Kyungsoo, you thought, there was no beat of hesitation in your mind, you would willingly die for having a proper taste of him.

“Headache?” he asked and reached into his bag most probably he brought painkiller for you. Kyungsoo knew you to the bits, more than anyone else, he could read you like you were an open book to him. But this time, you wanted to keep it to yourself.

“No.” you nod. “How many destinations we have to arrive?”

“2 or 3. I am not sure,” he looked at around. “Most probably two. Are you hungry that much?”

“Yes, I am starving.” it was not a lie, you were really starving but not for food. Coming to Japan with Kyungsoo was a bad idea, you had never been unstable like this before. The invisible barrier between you and him made you mad. You knew that you were not one to unload the feelings onto someone, instead, you rarely bring them up, only when it was extremely unbearable for your heart. When you feel like explode. When you feel like suffocating. When the suffer become a load to carry.

To your dismay, you felt all of them right now.

“On your foot, soldier.” he carefully lowered his arm off your shoulder. “We came.”

“Okey.” you pull yourself to your feet and hurry to leave the bus. Kyungsoo pressed into the button, you step into the fresh air. “Now, to where?”

“This way.” he arched his brow and you two walked into the noodle restaurant in a quite silence. Your head was throbbing, heavier than usual with all those thoughts, hopes, secrets that you were keeping inside of you for a long time. You hardly realize that you reached to the place, but when Kyungsoo opened the door for you, you managed to save yourself from trouble.

The place smelled too good to be true. The smell of fresh noodles, side dishes made you dizzy, the cuteness of place as well itself.

Smol like Kyungsoo, you thought but you did not say this, you just looked for a table to sit. You turned to him, but he already found a place for you and held your fucking hand again. He did not think about his move, it was so obvious, he just did. Your heart was pondering while he headed to the corner of shop, more intimate with dim lights.

“We cannot be comfortable with those lights.” he pointed the roof out. “There are so bright for us. Is this table okey?”

“Yip yip.” you were disctracted by the pleasure of yummy smells. “I can feel the taste on my tongue even from these smells! Let’s sit!”

Kyungsoo chuckled to your enthusiasm, he knew that he’s being tormented by his inappropriate thoughts, but he could not stop thinking about you. Would you smile like this if he tells you how much he adores you for fucking years? Would you smile so gently like you smile when you see a blue rose or your smile was going to be fade like when you learned your grandfather passed away?

Kyungsoo shivered with the memory. It was the last thing he would want to recall, he wished to see you never ever like that. You could not smile for months.

But he could not prevent remembering your skin. So soft and so warm to the touch and your fucking lips, so plump, pink, pouty and always calling him to kiss you.

You looked so pretty today, it was not you were not pretty in general but today Kyungsoo felt like you were his, all his. There was no Baekhyun, no Chanyeol, no Jongdae which means peace to him because when you three came together, the only word could describe was cacophony, no one. He loved them more than any friends, but he secretly preferred having time just for you two. Just you and Kyungsoo. He could watch your excitement for a while, you were like a bird whose trying to decide where to set. He was waiting for the show you were going to put, when the waitress brought the menu, you brightly smiled to her and duck your head into it while unintentionally dancing.

Kyungsoo loved you more than he could tell for this. Being yourself in every situation.

You were bathed in the dim yellow light, and Kyungsoo clearly saw your upper half above the table. Navy blue cotton clung to your chest, tighter than Kyungsoo wished, that square cut-out revealed your pale skin and the blue necklace you wore was elegantly stayed above your collarbone. Kyungsoo could not define but your collarbone definitely doing something to him. He remembered that necklace with a blue, tiny rose, he gave it to you in your 23rd birthday.

He wished he could tell you that you were prettier even than blue roses.

Years passed out so quick, but Kyungsoo could not tell you how much he desired you during all those years.

He watched you, forgetting to blink. His gaze shifting over you, washing you with his admiration from head to toe. You were clueless, he knew that you were not aware of his feelings for you, but he was grateful for being able to absorb the extent of your beauty. Maybe you were not the prettiest girl of the town, for his eyes, you were the chef kiss for sure. He remembered he wanted to punch Chanyeol in the face for his comments when you got your pixie haircut, you were not looking like manly as he nonchalantly said, Kyungsoo never think he could find short hair as attractive but hell, he loved your new style. And your eyes, your goddam eyes, so big, outlined in carbon black liner that made your eyelids covered with a shimmery shadow.

You looked fucking gorgeous, and Kyungsoo was extremely vulnerable to your beauty. You gave him really hard times, literally and figuratively. And to his dismay, he fucking liked his bonds to you like he was an addicted.

“Have you decided on the orders?” Kyungsoo heard the waitress again and turned to her as he woke up from a dream. He realized he forgot to look at menu, before he could open it, you lifted your head and looked at him.

Damn you.

Damn your eyes.

Damn your lips.

“Did you?” you murmured. “I did.”

Kyungsoo could not get your lips out of his head, if he could, he would also decide what he was going to have. Godfuckingdamnit, he just wanted to drag you into his lap and kiss you fervently. Maybe you could understand how he has been feeling since fucking years if he would kiss you. He just wanted to ravage you like a starved man, and he fucking was.

“I want Inaniwa Udon.” you said as you were waiting for his reply. “And sake, if it is possible.”

Why not, he thought. As long as you were with him, he could allow you to drink as much as you wanted. Thinking you drinking without Kyungsoo gave him really heart attack, he knew you were not famous of having high alcohol tolerance.

“I will have Ramen Meat Tsukasa.” he smiled to the waitress. “Do you serve sake?”

“Yes, we do.” the waitress replied. She was very kind, and she was also smiling to your little dance figures. “Do you want two bottles, or one is enough?”

“I think one is enough for now.” Kyungsoo said this as a question to you, you hummed. “Maybe we will have another later.”

“Okey, I will bring your orders as soon as they are ready. Have a nice time.” the waitress made a little bow to both of you and rushed back to the kitchen.

“So, do you like the restaurant?” Kyungsoo asked to you. At his words, your smile widened, and the stars became visible in your eyes. Kyungsoo felt he started to melt inside.

“I love these tiny places.” you whispered sheepishly. “You know how much I love them, Kyungsoo.”

Yeah, Kyungsoo knew your preferences very well. What he did not know was the power your whisper has on him. It gave him electroshocks, he felt like a wriggling worm. He immediately fantasized on more intimate scenarios which you could whisper his name and God, he hated himself for that, but he could not stop. To be honest, even if it meant self-hatred, he did not want stop thinking about you. He loved to think about you far too much although he was perfectly aware of his mind wandering around extremely dangerous territory.

“For a second,” you stood up. “I have to use bathroom, excuse me.”

“Yeah.” that was his best shot since you started to walk because he did not see your back in this dress. His eyes followed you until you disappeared, drunk the sway of your hips. Kyungsoo’s opinion of your dress quickly changed, and he cursed Sehun under his breath, the cotton fabric wrapped your curves and gradually hugged your body till a hand above the knee, it multiplied your summer rose vibe.

He decided to steal that dress and set it on fire, fuck that dress, God, he hated it.

Kyungsoo wondered what was going to happen to him when you decided to go out with a guy. Not today, his mind reminded him but one day you were going to hang out with someone. Someone, but not him.

He squeezed his fingers just as he would strangle an invisible neck of unnamed enemy.

Actually, you went out for some dates in the past, but none of them worked for you. Kyungsoo vividly remembered how horrible those nights were for him till he could hear the story from you. To be honest, you were secretive about those dates, you did not give him details but he learned it did not work for you, it was enough.

Till now.

He did not want to admit it, but he was curious as fuck, why those dates did not work. What happened, why you were so adamant of not going out while you were extremely clever and pretty? Unfortunately, Kyungsoo was aware of not only your impacts on him but also on community. You were quite popular among the guys.

He was dying to learn the reason of your consecutive rejections, maybe it was about your taste of men. Maybe you were liking older guys, maybe you were liking younger ones, maybe you were preferring foreigners. Scenarios, choices, and possibilities were a lot, and Kyungsoo hated the truth to the bits, even though you had no idea how charming you were both physical and emotional, you could make a man falling love with you in the blink of an eye.

He hated it too much. He hated because he strongly believed that if you could think of him as a potential lover even for once, you would do something to make him fall for you.

You never try. You were always far from him, and he was already in enough pain because of the distance between you, even you were just beside of him.

“I am back!” your voice dragged him out of his dark thoughts. For a second, he thought he could beg you to tell him how you saw him as a man.

If you need a lover, let me know.

Kyungsoo wanted to tell this to you more than anything else, but he was a coward inside. He was afraid of losing you forever, he did not want to destroy the anything, if he could have you as a friend, as a study-buddy, he was okey. Not fine, but okey. At least he could be with you as his heart wanted.

“Food is not ready yet.” he choked out loudly enough to make your eyebrows knitted.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I am fine.” he nonchalantly answered. What could he say? Would he say he was thinking when you were going to have a boyfriend, how much he was going to be sad? Or could he tell you how much he wanted tear your dress off your body and worship you? “I am hungry.”

“I have a theory about the hunger of men.” you sat on your chair comfortably and pointed a finger to him. He wanted to catch that finger and kiss it. “For example, if you are hungry, you can be really scary. When Baekhyun or Chanyeol is hungry, they are grumpy. Is this something special to you, or is this a feature of men? We can be polite while we are waiting for food.”

“Do not go there.” Kyungsoo said lowly. “How much you know about men? Only me, our squad members, and your family. We can be also polite, and I am not fucking scary.”

“Sweetheart, I know men more than you believe.” you blinked mischievously, enough to startle him. “If a man is hungry, even the face expression transformed.”

“May I ask?” he started, but he could feel his hand beneath the table automatically turned into a fist. “How did you collect the information to support your weak theory?”

“By having dinners with them.” you grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat, and Kyungsoo hated to see also that. “You are not so different from each other, being so full of yourselves.”

You knew you were playing with fire.

You were trying to provoke him with your words. You were aware of Kyungsoo’s dislike of being compared with others.

Unconsciously you decided to make him mad at you in order to see if he had a feeling, even a little spot in his emotional radar, for you. If you could manage to annoy him that much, you knew he would talk. He would give hints at least, but he would do something.

You were more than okey even for a hint, you realized you were up to your hair, you were done with waiting for a sign. You realized your burned yourself out to the bitter end, you were done with waiting for him. You wanted nothing but him, you could say you did not and you would be lying your ass off if you did.

He stared at you as his expression was hard to decipher. He could be wanting to beat the shit out of you or thinking for an answer to shut your mouth for all eternity. Both of the options were possible.

“Your meals are ready.” the waitress came back with the gigantic bowls. “Enjoy, and bon appetite.”

“Thank you very much.” you bowed at her as she placed your meals onto table. As the smell attacked your nose, you rushed to pick your chopsticks. You had a sweet spot for Udon, but it did not mean you were not going to steal from Kyungsoo. You opened the water bottle, took a long sip, and turned to Kyungsoo to ask if he wanted water or not, and you fucking froze.

He was pouring sake for you just like the most important job he has been doing till now.

You were very fond of the level of attention; he was giving to everything he did. You could watch him forever, anything he did turned into art for you. God, if you could see your face right now, you would clearly understand how he affected you, your lips parted and your breathing was becoming heavier, holy shit, because he was pouring fucking sake!

“Can you stop staring at me like a freak?” he asked. You keel over in the chair, nearly shooting water out of your nose. Quickly, you swallowed and covered your mouth and averted your eyes while blushing like a schoolgirl but what made you blush was not being caught by him, you exactly saw that he was blushing while he scolded you. He was fucking blushed, you were %100 percentage of sure, his cheeks were turned into pinkish. “Here you go.”

Your hands were shaking a bit, but you managed to hold the cup.

“Thank you.” and you drunk it. You really needed something to cool you. “May I have the bottle?”

You knew Kyungsoo would make the process slower and to be honest, if he was going to take charge of sake, you would not nothing but staring at him like there was no tomorrow.

Tomorrow… You were feeling nervous about the future. You wanted to keep both of you at this moment. Just you and Kyungsoo. Together.

You shook your head just as you wanted to clean your mind from negative thoughts. The moment you had was the most important one and you did not want to destroy it by thinking about what was going to be happen. Kyungsoo was with you right now, even though you were not sure if you would last for the end of this trip.

He handed the bottle to you, you nested it close to yourself and poured another one. You drunk it too while Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow which you wholly ignored, then processed to eat your Udon. Flavour erupted on your tastebuds, and you started to eat like you did not have a meal in the last week.

“Holy shit.” you cursed when you gave a little break only to pour another one to yourself and Kyungsoo’s empty cup. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kyungsoo unwillingly laughed at you. “Please remember to breath, I do not want to be ended in the emergency.”

“You do not have to accompany me if the noodle stuck on my throat.” you drunk your third, allowed the liquid to slide down your throat and a warmth burned in your chest as it stayed there. You poured the fourth one. “My Japanese is better than yours.”

“Due to the speed of your consumption of sake,” he started with a fair point, you had to admit. “I am not sure if you can perform your Japanese skills. Instead, it looks like you will be bubbling in the end of this night, of course if you do not manage to kill yourself. Damn, take it easy.”

“No worries, I am a tough cookie.” you arched your brow, and your eyes fixed your Udon. “I will not be drunk.”

“What makes me worried,” his eyes continued to remain fixed on you. “Your unexpected fondness of sake. Do we have to order the second o-

“Yes.” you interrupted him. “Order.”

You knew that on the contrary what you said to him, you were going to be drunk. Hell, you wanted to be. A smile tugged up on your lips as you took another mouthful bite of your food. You wanted to be a drunk tonight and relax. Kyungsoo did not refuse your wish, he ordered another bottle while you were sending the fifth cup to your stomach.

“Now, tell me.” he jabbed. “How many dates you had till now?”

“Why are you asking this out of everything?” you asked with a sincere curiosity.

“I want to elaborate your theory, but before doing that, I have to collect information on the experimental group.”

“Ah.” you swallowed thickly. Hell, what it would be, damn Kyungsoo and his logic. “Well, I had three dates which you know. I had two more, which you did not know so the count is five.”

“Five.” he blinked. “Five men are not enough to hold a theory such includes everyone on this planet, and you were telling me we all same with a great confidence.”

“They were pretty same.” you turned your head away and poured another sake. You could feel that Kyungsoo was getting more tense after every cup you drunk, but you had zero fucks to give. “I was ended up with disappointment.”

“Why?” he caught you off guard. “You never tell me the whole story. What was wrong?”

They were not you, you thought in the safe silence in your mind but there was no enough amount of sake would make you tell this to him in the world. Maybe you start to feel a little bit dizzy but even if you would be on your knees, you would not confess the real reason.

“I do not know.” Yeah, there was not enough amount of sake would make you to confess, but the amount of sake which settled in the pit of your stomach made you more talkative about your affairs. Maybe it was about the need of showing Kyungsoo that you were a fucking girl, you could attract people also. “They were not made for me, I guess.”

“This is the result.” Kyungsoo furrowed his brows. His icy resolve frozen across his features. “I want to hear the story behind this result.”

Kyungsoo could not believe how he would let you to drink your seventh cup of sake and open the second one but in the deep of his heart, he knew the real reason. He wanted you to talk. God, he needed you to talk his ear off. He could die to learn what type of guy would attract you, and he could try to be that man.

“I am not sure how to explain that but,” you rapidly shook your head again. “It is all fucking disappointments for me. I do not know what they think about me, but when I go out with someone, I always ended up in home, calling Baekhyun or Chanyeol and we talked on why I felt like shit.”

Kyungsoo knew that getting you to talk always meant for extra efforts, he never pushed you. He never dragged you into the conversations you clearly did not have an intention to have.

Till now.

Providing you with company and asking nothing in return was not his best choice today. He was okey with asking nothing in return, he never expect anything in return for his company, but today he wanted to learn about your affairs.

“Could you decide?” he whispered. “I mean, why you felt like shit in your words?”

“Do you prefer more refined vocabulary?” you chuckled, and Kyungsoo understood that you had to be dizzy right now. You had two types of chuckles, and this one definitely a result of alcohol.

He did not prevent you from pouring the eighth one.

“No, speak as you want.” he did not let you go out of his palms. You were in his palms right now, he hooked you in his net, and this was going to be first and last he dragged you to a place you obviously did not want to engage.

However, he needed to learn. Just for once, he crossed all boundaries between you. All rules.

“Putting aside your quite vocabulary,” he pushed you to continue. “What was wrong?”

“Everything.” your eyes flitted up his face. Your gaze fuelled the excitement that already started to make its way in Kyungsoo’s lower stomach, an excitement that has been brewing since years as you have been lingering in front of him for an extremely long time.

“I cannot say that they were bad people, on the contrary, they were lovely.” This was not what Kyungsoo wished to hear, your words made his heart flipped, but not in a pleasurable way. “They were kind, nice, clever and to be honest good-looking. However, I did not feel anything towards them. I tried, Kyungsoo, I tried to do my best, but I am tired of ending up with same result. I did not find them attractive.”

You suddenly remembered the kiss of one of your dates gave you. You were not sure if you could call it as a kiss, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, those dorks, laughed at you their asses off when you told them that guy pressed his lips to yours and you immediately pushed him so strong, enough to made him lost his balance and fell on his butt.

“Were they,” Kyungsoo cleaned his throat.” Good companies? I am trying to understand why it cannot work for you.”

“No, they were.” you ponder, then a laugh fallen from your lips. “They really were, especially the last one. He was a good company even if he was a bit handsy.”

Kyungsoo’s chopsticks stuttered. You said it nonchalantly, you were dizzy as fuck, he could see that, but you said it to him as if it did not mean anything that the unnamed bastard invited his hands over your body, instead he should be on his fucking knees for you. His teeth shattered; he could feel his jaw was clenched with the thoughts he had to refuse for the sake of God.

“Being a little bit handsy does not sound a good company to me.” he said between his teeth. “Is that why you ended up feeling like shit? Did he force himself on you?”

If he did, God mercy on him because Kyungsoo was not going to. You were already drinking your tenth cup; he was sure he could learn that bastard’s name. He knew that right now, he was crossing your boundaries and taking advantage of your current hiatus, he was not better than that bastard, but he was not going to stop.

“No, he touched my inner thigh during the dinner.” you whispered. “Then he kissed me after the ride to my home he gave.”

“And?” Kyungsoo had to take a deep breathe and he poured sake for himself, even though he wanted to focus on you. “Did he ask at first place?”

“He did not.” Kyungsoo felt his heart was tightening in his chest because of anger. He wanted to find that fucking bastard and fuck the shit out of him. He already started seeing you in front of the door of your home, and that moron dragged you into his arms and kissed you without asking. Did they really think, this would be romantic or manly? This was sexual attack. Kyungsoo could not endure to imagine you while that moron run his fucking pawns over your face. Pulling you into a kiss if he could call that a kiss. His blood was boiling as he could not stand someone disappointed you, destroying your ideas and hardly built self-confidence. He hated to see that, he has been watching you since the first day you met, and he was fucking aware of your self-perceptions. He bit back a wave of curses, and he resisted the dire need to ask you this guy’s name and address in order to chop his head.

“He had to ask for your content.” he literally growled, enough to make the customers at near tables turned to look at you. You blinked.

“I pushed him.” you whispered. “And he fell on his butt.”

For a second, Kyungsoo did not understand what you said, but when he understood he could not help but laughed.

“I could kill someone to see that moment.” he mumbled. “I wish I could see.”

“It was not a good memory.” you admitted. “I really hated every moment of that memory. He was a good guy, but at the end, when he kissed me, I wanted to puke my stomach out.”

Kyungsoo lost the little trail of joy.

“He was not a good guy.” He literally growled.

Suddenly, the tension was transforming into something different. Your face was becoming too warm, and your blood pressure was rocketing into sky.

It was neither Udon not sake.

You raised your eyebrows as you looked at Kyungsoo as you wanted to ask what he meant, but you kept your question to yourself.

“Why did you not tell me?” he asked. “I knew you are not talkative about these, but you could talk with me at least when you had experienced a shitty guy like that filthy bastard.”

“Well, excuse me for being so clueless,” the filter between your tongue and brain stopped working at that moment, and you lost it. “But that was my first and last kiss, and I was shocked!”

Kyungsoo’s chin was dropped. He stared at you as becoming senseless to any other sound. He took a set of full seconds to actually register your words, then his eyes widen.

You were not aware of the weight of your confession. Your mind was foggy and you already lost yourself in Kyungsoo.

“What?”

This was the best shot of him.

“It was my first kiss.” the heat of your face became unbearable. “And it was unexpected, I did not give him my consent, I was definitely in shock.”

Kyungsoo listened to your words.

“Are you,” he heard his voice. “Are you a virgin?”

“Do not say it like a blasphemy.” you could not help but protested. He looked at you as he was having a heart attack.

He actually was.

He guessed that you were not experienced but a virgin.

Godfuckingdamnit, he did not expect to hear that.

“And that bastard destroyed your first kiss.” he could not prevent himself from punching his thigh. Harshly. He was really out of his mind due to anger, he knew that he could not be with you, but destroying an experience for you was equal crossing his limits. He noted finding that guy when you come back to your homes mentally. He did not know when, how or which way but he was going to find that scumbag and make him pay for his wrong deed.

You looked so vulnerable. How could that moron dare to destroy an important moment of your life?

“Yeah, he did.” you partially smiled, Kyungsoo could not believe you were smiling. Did you lose your shit? He was supposed to ask you why you were smiling like a freak; you lifted your eyes to his. “But talking with you made me happy.”

Kyungsoo hated himself too much.

He made you talked about a horrendous memory in order to learn about your preferences. He even let you drink one and half bottle of sake. He used the old excuse in the book however after learning this incident, he realized once again, you were his priority to take care of, to look after, you had to be happy, healthy, and successful. You had to live your heart as you wished, and Kyungsoo was sure as fuck he was going to do everything in his power for you to blossom.

You were his rose after all.

Every nerve in his body may steered him to you, attracted to you like a magnet, he could refrain his feelings. Even if you were not going to come to him, he was not going to push you never again. Never.

“Next time, tell me before a date.” he snorted. “It seems to me you are bad on choosing a man, that piece of shit did it all wrong.”

Your heart was pounded in your chest.

Did Kyungsoo just point the issue of asking for content or was there anything more he indicated?

If he said something was wrong, it meant he knew the true way of doing it, fixing and giving you a proper memory. He never talk if he did not know the right way.

“How?” you asked to him with your big-doe eyes. Kyungsoo startled for a second, then understood what you asked.

“What do you mean with how?” Kyungsoo stared at you. “He had to ask for consent first, obviously. If it is yes, a man can continue.”

“What if I would say yes?” you could not help. You could not stop. There was a frustrating fire in the pit of your stomach, made you uninterested to anything but Kyungsoo. Maybe you did not know many things but you were aware of only Kyungsoo could do something about it. You did care it anymore, you just wanted Kyungsoo to show you the right way.

“There is a progress.” Kyungsoo cursed himself for telling you this. “It depends on how much you wish to move, but basically there are three bases and before every step you are going to take, you have to ask your partner if she or he is still okey with the progress.”

“I see.” you nod.

Both of you started to think about each other in that progress. What would it be, how you react to each other after waiting since the first day you met. Both of you rejected to think about it, and both of you know that you were going to imagine it when you were going to be alone in the safety of your rooms.

“That’s why that scumbag did it all wrong. If you want someone to touch you, remember asking for consent is the most important rule.” Kyungsoo disgusted by the idea of someone touching you. Even thinking about him giving him headache, he was annoyed by the fact that you were going to choose someone, and you were learning the rules from Kyungsoo.

To choose someone.

He was mad. He was angry. God, he wanted to set something on fire.

“Is there any different rule?” you could not take your eyes off Kyungsoo.

“Many.” he was back to giving short answers.

“I want you to teach me.” you said without thinking.

“Ha?”

Kyungsoo was not sure if he could hear you correctly or not.

“You told me that guy did it all wrong.” You were not going back from here this time. You were fucking not. “I want you to teach me the right way.”

Kyungsoo was sure there was no capacity left his lungs to breathe. He kept looking at you, you waited his response patiently.

Was it you or sake?

You did not know. You did not care.

You just wanted to feel Kyungsoo. Helping you on the issue was only something he could do, by your -twisted by alcohol- logic, you persuaded yourself, if he put you in this situation, he had to help you getting out of it.

“How much you drink?” you heard Kyungsoo, but you were already decided what you were going to do. He was going to say yes. He had to say yes.

“I am not drunk, Soo.” you said. “I am sober as fuck. Teach me.”

Kyungsoo stared at you for a while, then he stood up and reached to your hand.

“Come.” he said. “We are going back to hotel.”

Kyungsoo felt like a hunter, he finally grabbed your hand, while he was paying for food, he did not let you go away from him. Instead, he pressed your body to his, you closed your eyes when your chest perfectly pressed on his toned forearm. You heavily breathed, Kyungsoo led you out of the restaurant. You immediately headed to the way back to the bus station, but he stopped you.

“We are going to take a cab.” Kyungsoo. “Faster.”

You could not help but laugh at his eagerness to be back. Your heart started to sing inside of your chest, for a magnificent moment you could almost make yourself believe that Kyungsoo wanted you as much as you wanted him. You wanted to devour him you did not know what made you bold at this level but you just wanted to drown in him. You knew that he was going to lecture you about what you had to do when you have a date, when you would be back at hotel, but you really hoped for at least he was going to give you a demonstration on kissing someone.

If he would not, you did not know you could overcome with that moment.

Kyungsoo was having an existential crisis. He was not sure if he understood you correctly, but he had to get you back to the hotel, he was sure of it since he really did not know until when he could control himself just like he did not want to rip that fucking dress off you and have you over and over.

At that moment, he saw a cab was coming to your direction and he turned to you.

He saw your eyes, shining by pure desire.

He lost his shit for the first time in seven years of your friendship.

He pulled you between his arms, his face was fucking close to you.

“It is okey, Kyungsoo.” you literally cooed.

He did not waste a minute and caressed your face.

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge Pt. 2

Feyre’s part of The Damnation Series. Part 1 is here.

I am proud of myself for finishing this shit, because it’s long as fuck. Whoops.

~Feyre~

Honestly, I should’ve known.

I should’ve known that somehow, with whatever endless resources he has, he would find me. 

That’s all I can think as I find my way into the Impressionists exhibit and find Rhysand Azara, real estate agent to the stars, leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee and looking at Dancers in Blue with narrowed eyes. 

It’s been five days since our date, and like the cliché I am, I’ve spent the entire time thinking about him. I’ve checked my phone countless times, and I even decided to stalk him and Googled his name. 

When--just like he’d said--nothing came up, I googled Dancers in Pink. He said he had it, but it had been sold a few years ago in an auction to “Amren Valenta.”

Unless Rhysand had a stage name, that was definitely not him. 

I dug some more, but after three hours all I discovered was that he owned Azara Industries, which owned a lot of buildings downtown. Oh, and he never let himself be photographed. 

Which was upsetting, because it means I had nothing to stare at whilst stalking him. 

Pathetic. I am so pathetic.

But anyway, I should’ve known he’d come here. He’d said he’d call, but he didn’t have my number. Plus, I’d told him I come here pretty much every day, so really, what did I expect?

I still laugh as I spot him though, somehow surprised, and ask, “Here to flirt with more art students?”

“Just one,” he answers, running his eyes over me as I draw closer. 

Gods, this man is seductive. He’s just looking at me, but I feel his gaze like a touch, dragging over my entire body with slow, intentional grazes. 

My breath hitches, and his eyes twinkle, like he’s well aware to the dirty place my mind has wondered. I can tell he’s holding in some likely-male comment, but he refrains from embarrassing me and he holds out another cup of coffee. 

I take it, grateful for the caffeine boost, and find it somehow made exactly the way I like it. Maybe I’m not the only one stalking. 

Although his methods have to be better than mine if he already knows about the definitely unhealthy amount of sugar I put in my coffee. 

“How many times have you been here this week?” I ask, curious to see his level of devotion. 

“Three. Not a very convenient way of communicating with someone, I admit. I was about to send a smoke signal.” He watches me sip the coffee, watches my tongue dart over my lip. “Plans tonight?”

I fight a sigh and decide to be a student worthy of my scholarship for once. “I told myself I’d work on my senior project.”

His lips twitch at my dejected tone. “What is it?”

A ginormous pain in my ass. “Bad,” I say simply. 

He shakes his head, sipping his coffee and eyeing me over the rim of the cup. “Details.”

For someone who offers no information, he loves demanding it from me. Instead of fight it, I groan and give in to the patriarchy. “It’s just bad! It’s supposed to be a mix of different styles and mediums, but it’s going so poorly I might just start over. Or drop out and become a starving artist a year ahead of schedule.”

Rhysand smiles at my phrasing. “I would never let you starve. And what do you mean, mixing styles and mediums?”

“For someone who frequents museums and has millions of dollars in art, you don’t know much about it, do you?”

“I have people for that.”

“Amren Valenta?” I ask without thinking, exposing myself as a stalker. 

He pauses, cup halfway to his smirking mouth, and raises a brow. “Clever, creepy little woman,” he teases. “But yes. Amren is my curator, and we use her name because I don’t want media attention. As I’m sure you know.”

Busted and blushing to high hell, I roll my eyes and become a junior detective. “Isn’t it illegal to buy something with someone else’s name? What if the IRS comes after you?”

Rhysand looks at a loss for words at that. If I weren’t serious, it would make me laugh how shocked he looks. “I guess,” he says after a moment, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

I roll my eyes again, because we both know he doesn’t give a shit. It’s not like the IRS actually enforces rules for the one percent, anyway.

“Now tell me about your project.”

Rolling my eyes at how bossy he is, I tell him, “I wanted to combine photography and painting. And I wanted it to be kind of abstract, but also realistic enough.”

“Ambitious.”

I sigh, not able to repress it this time. “Stupid, is what it is. I don’t even know where to start. I have no motivation, let alone inspiration, to work on it.”

A contemplative look crosses his face. “I know where you could find inspiration.”

I raise an eyebrow and gesture around us, because in case he’s missed it, we’re in a museum. Inspiration abounds. But he scoffs and whispers, “This is child’s play compared to a certain someone’s private collection.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, playing along and pretending I don’t know the someone he’s talking about.

He nods, looking around as if making sure there are no spies in the completely empty room listening we’re standing in. “He has Degas, Monet, Dali, you name it. And he’s generous enough to let you come over tonight.”

Pursing my lips, I scan his face, trying to see if he’s serious. I mean... I am dying to see his collection. But, “Is this just a ploy to get me naked?”

He puts a hand on his chest, offense written across his face. “You think I’d try to seduce you while you study?”

“Yes.”

“You’re probably right.” He chuckles, then says, “If you need to get naked to look at art, I certainly won’t complain. But no, Feyre darling, this isn’t a ploy.”

I pause, half stuck on the whole darling thing and half contemplating what to do. 

Ploy or not, I know that if I go to his apartment or house or mansion or castle, I’ll probably sleep with him. He’s too attractive, and my resolve just isn’t that great where’s he’s concerned. 

Plus, I know it’s insane, but art just... Never mind.

I tell myself nothing’s going to happen and that I’m going because of the art--both lies--as I say, “Okay.”

He extends a hand, and I slide mine into it, almost sighing at how perfect we fit together. Would that be the case everywhere? 

Feyre.

I avoid looking at him as he leads me from the room and outside, where a very beefy guy holds open the door to a black sedan. “Seriously?” I ask Rhysand as he ushers me in the back, then climbs in beside me.

“I usually drive myself,” he says in defense, smiling when I roll my eyes.

The city blurs around us as Beefcakes drives, and I’m about to ask where the hell he lives when the car pulls to a stop and the door opens. Climbing out, I look up at the black, shiny penthouse tower, and say, “Of course you live here.”

It’s expensive and in the city and has a million floors, and I bet he lives at the very tippy top.

He gives me a strange look but pulls me in the lobby, then into an elevator. We shoot up flight after flight till we reach the penthouse, confirming my suspicions. 

For what feels like the millionth time, I ask myself why the hell Rhysand’s taken an interest in me. I mean, a year of therapy got me to admit I’m decent looking and all, but I’m... I’m a college student. He’s older and richer and has his life together. Why does he want me?

I don’t have long to contemplate life’s great mysteries because the elevator doors slide open, revealing his apartment, and I become too busy trying to mask my surprise.

I thought the place would be... I don’t know, like him. Sleek. Modern. Luxurious. 

And it is, at least that last part. Everything is obviously expensive. But there’s also a homey quality created by a fireplace, plush couches, decorative rugs, tapestries.

It’s burgundy and black and cream, and so unexpected I smile.

I step in and walk automatically toward the huge windows, taking in the view and realizing we’re at the dead center of the city. In all directions, Chicago’s spread out, lights and traffic and Lake Michigan surrounding us.

Even though the place is beyond wonderful, there’s one thing missing. 

I turn to Rhysand and raise a brow. “No art?”

“One floor down.”

I have to press my lips together to keep the questions in. One floor down, as in it takes up the whole floor. As in he has a private museum. As in I’m so fucking excited I can hardly walk. 

But he seems to be baiting me, seeing how long I’ll last before demanding to be taken down there, so I casually walk around his apartment, taking in all the little details. “It’s more... lived in than I would’ve thought.”

He nods, knowing what I mean even though it was a poor way of explaining it. “I have a few places around the city, but this is the one I prefer.” Nodding to the kitchen, he asks, “Hungry?”

“You cook?” The thought of him covered in flour seems absurd, but we all have our hobbies.

He smiles like I’ve said something funny. “No, but I have takeout menus in there.”

“Hopeless,” I tease, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge like I’m the one who lives here. “I’ll find something.”

I end up finding beer, wine, cheese, and various fruits and vegetables.

Not a lot, but enough to make a charcuterie board, which just so happens to be my specialty. I search for a few minutes before finding a wooden cutting board, then start to assemble whatever snacks I can find.

Cherries and grapes, two types of cheeses, carrots, and crackers fill most of the board, and I fill in gaps with blackberries and chocolate chips I’m surprised he has. 

Once it’s completed and visually appealing enough, I slide it over to where he’s seated on a barstool and bow dramatically. “I’m a master cheese plate maker.”

“I see that. Wine?”

Nodding, I reach in the fridge and grab the first bottle I see. Setting it in front of him, I move to the cabinet and get two glasses and an opener.

Rhysand takes the opener and eyes the bottle, lips twitching as he smoothly uncorks it.

“What?” I ask, unable to figure out what’s funny. Was it weird to make a board or something? Surely even rich guys like cheese and crackers, right?

He pours two glasses, shaking his head and silently refusing to let me in on the joke.

Eyes narrowed, I sit next to him and suspiciously take a small sip from my glass. He watches me, probably expecting me to say something about it, so I offer, “It’s good.”

He bites his lip but can’t keep the laugh in at that, so I finally demand, “What?”

“It’s an $800 bottle of wine, Feyre.”

I almost spit it all over him, which would indeed be a shame, because there’s probably $50 in my mouth. Managing to swallow it down, I sputter, “You... you should’ve said something!”

He’s still laughing, but he stops to take a huge swallow and shrug. “I say we drink the whole bottle.”

I put my head in my hands, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I couldn’t care less.” He pries my hands away. “Seriously. I just wanted to tease you.”

Now that, I believe. But I still ask, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiles, taking another sip. “I keep the really expensive stuff at the townhouse, anyway.”

I roll my eyes and drink some more, somehow trying to taste it better or something now that I know it’s liquid gold. Shifting to put my foot on the stool, I lean across him to grab the platter.

His gaze glides over me slowly, and there’s surprise in his eyes, like he can’t believe I’m sitting in front of him so casually. 

It’s probably weird to be so... open around a stranger, but he’s not exactly normal, so I don’t feel any pressure to be, either.

Regardless, it’s a little hard to breathe with him looking at me like that, so to break the tension, I grab a cherry, pull the stem off, and hold it an inch in front of his face. 

“Ready?”

His eyes cross and he pushes my hand away so he can actually see what I’m holding. “Ready,” he confirms.”

I stick the stem in my mouth, using a trick I spent three hours teaching myself on a rainy afternoon to tie it in a knot, then pull it out with a victorious grin.

“Very impressive,” he notes, but before I can gloat about my supreme cherry-knotting abilities, he steals the stem and sticks it in his own mouth.

My eyes are wide, but I don’t have time to ask what the hell he’s doing before he pulls it out. 

Unknotted.

“Impressive,” I repeat, actually meaning it. “How’d you do that?”

“I’m good with my tongue,” he says immediately, obviously having been lying in wait for the question, and I huff a laugh.

If I called my sisters and told them what I’m going right now, they’d probably try to have me committed. I’m sitting in a billionaire’s penthouse apartment, drinking expensive wine and watching him untie cherry stems with his tongue. 

“How was your week?” I ask to get us back in semi-normal territory, grabbing a cracker off the plate.

He answers vaguely and asks me about mine, and just like that, we fall into easy conversation.

It’s honestly strange to me that after one date, we can talk like this. With my ex, it took weeks before I was really comfortable around him, and yet I feel completely at home with Rhysand.

He tells he’s from the south side of Chicago and asks about my hometown, and I it feels natural. It’s just... easy.

“By the way, you can just call me Rhys,” he tells me as we finish off the platter. “Using my full name reminds me of when I got in trouble in grade school.”

I drain my wine glass, a slight buzz in my veins, and ask, “So I only call you Rhysand when I’m about to spank you?”

He howls with laughter, then surprises me by asking, “What’s your middle name?”

“Adalene. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out what I’ll call you when we get around to spanking.” I blush as he continues, “Feyre Adalene should do.”

He puts the empty wine bottle in the trash and runs a finger over my red cheek. I bat it away, embarrassed, but he just laughs and asks, “Ready to go downstairs?”

For some reason, I get a little nervous, but I put on my big girl pants and nod, taking his hand when he offers it.

Then we’re back in the elevator, coasting down a floor, and just before the doors open, he says, “Close your eyes.”

Anticipation makes it difficult to follow the request but I manage, and he guides me out of the elevator and turns me slightly. “Open.”

I open my eyes and come face to face with something I never thought I’d see. 

“You... you have a...” I whisper, not quite able to get the word out.  

“Meule.”

One of eight left in private collectors hands, Monet’s Meules--or Grainstacks--are some of the most recognizable, renown works of art in the world. The last was sold four years ago for over $80 million.

Amren Valenta is a very, very rich woman, according to her art collection. 

I’m standing inches from it now, mildly unsure of how that happened, looking at the sunset colors bleed into the shadows of the grain, taking in the easy lines and brushwork.

Turning to look at him, I see he’s leaned against the wall next to the painting, head tilted as if I’m the most interesting thing in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m here right now,” I say honestly, my voice airy and light.

He just smiles and motions to my right. “The collection goes in a loop.”

I nod, and after a few more minutes staring at the Monet, I start to walk.

Or more like mosey. 

If he’s irritated with how long I’m taking, he doesn’t mention it. He follows me as I stare after pieces of art I never dreamed of being close to. Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Klimt, Pollock, Munch.

And then, at the edge of my peripheral, I see it.

Dancers in Pink hangs besides a smaller Degas, but it’s all I can look at. The dancer’s skirts are so bright in person, the tulle layers seeming to come off the canvas. The gold in the background is vibrant and metallic, in sharp contrast with the dark wall it hangs on.

Gods, it’s beautiful.

I know there are more famous paintings in here, but I’ve spent three years going to look at Dancers in Blue, never imagining I’d see one a similar work. 

Tears slide down my face and a laugh bubbles out of me, the two reactions complete opposites but both somehow feeling right.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and I feel Rhysand’s chin settle on my shoulder as he hugs me from behind. “You know,” he whispers, seeming to not want to disrupt my moment with loud noises, “I never understood how important this is to people.”

“Oh, Rhysand. It’s... wonderful.”

It’s an inadequate way to say what I want to say, but it’s all I can come up with at the moment. I lean into him, and we stand like that, me staring at the painting, him at me, for a long while. 

When I start to get tired, I turn in his embrace, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and kiss him softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I somehow finish the loop, and by the time we’re in the elevator again, I’m so emotionally spent I can’t hardly breathe.

“Inspired?” he questions, linking our hands and pulling me closer to his side.

I nod, but inspired doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m grateful and overwhelmed and so happy I could burst.

A professor once told me that art is a gift that lasts forever and never stops giving, and I never really understood what she meant until now. Over a hundred years after Dancers in Pink was completed, it still brings people to tears.

It’s a powerful and beautiful and eternal way to send a message, and it makes me feel like a small piece of the puzzle, but at the same time, so important and alive.

We glide smoothly back up to his apartment, but neither of us move once the doors ding open. 

Because technically, there’s no longer a reason for me to be here. 

I’ve seen the art, drank his expensive wine. I should get my bag and go. 

I should... but I don’t want to. 

Rhysand’s perfectly quiet and still beside me, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind. 

The angel on my shoulder tells me how sweet and considerate he’s being. The devil tells me to reward this behavior with a few sinful ideas. 

Running a hand through my hair, I debate my options. Be smart and leave, or stay and try and fight the urge to throw myself at him. 

“Oh, fuck it,” I mutter, dramatically taking a step forward like I’m going into war.

He laughs as he follows me off the elevator, strolling back to the kitchen. “More wine?”

I nod, because at this point, I’m already a lost cause. He opens a new bottle and pours me some. “How much was this one?”

“Ten dollars,” he lies, fighting a smile. “On sale at Walmart.”

“I’m surprised you even know what Walmart is,” I laugh, taking my seat back at the bar. 

“You forget I’m from the south side. All this,” he motions around us, as he takes the seat next to me. “Used to be nothing more than a dream.”

“How’d you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious. Most people with his kind of wealth were born into it and given every advantage possible. “What’d you do?”

He looks down at the floor, but there’s a sudden set of his jaw, a tightness in his shoulders. “Whatever I had to.”

I don’t point out he’s given me yet another non-answer. Instead I say simply, “I find working for something makes you value it more, anyway.”

His eyes find me again, and there’s something I can’t read in his gaze. “Yes, it does. And it makes you do whatever it takes to keep it.”

I swallow and nod slowly, trying to figure out what exactly he means.

He takes a deep breath, then drinks the wine in his glass in a single swallow. There’s a story there, and it’s easy to see it burdens him, but it’s his to tell in his own time. 

Just to get that strain out of his gaze, I switch topics completely. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out how you untied that damn cherry stem.”

Rhysand smiles, a full one that showcases all his pretty little teeth, and leans in, the intent clear in his eyes. 

“Come here and I’ll show you,” he whispers.

I press my lips to his and open them immediately--for the lesson, of course--and his tongue meets mine in a slow glide. 

Where our first kiss was all heat and drifting hands, this one’s slow and sensual and like ice cream melting on a summer day. 

His mouth fits mine perfectly, and his hands seem to be made to hold me, sliding up my thighs to settle on my hips. The hair at his nape is soft against my fingers, and I lean on the stool to get closer and wrap my arms around his neck.

I suck on his tongue, and he makes a low sound, then his hands are tightening and lifting, and I’m being settled on his lap.

Both of us on one stool isn’t ideal, but I wrap my legs around his waist and hope we don’t go crashing over. 

Gravity comes into play and I start sliding, so he turns the stool and traps between him and the counter. The granite digs into my spin, but I can’t be bothered to care, because the new position gives his hands freedom to roam again, and he slides them over my thighs, across my ass, up my sides. 

His thumbs brush the sides of my breasts, and they become heavy and aching against his chest.

His mouth slowly drags down to my neck, and I sigh as he finds that one spot that drives me crazy. His nips the skin, tongue smoothing the small hurt, and his name slips out of me in a quiet moan. 

Everything seems to change at once.

Cursing creatively, he sweeps me into his arms and stands, then walks us into his living room and plops onto a plush couch. 

My ADHD kicks in and I’m momentarily distracted by how soft the leather is, but then his tongue runs across the seam of my lip and I snap back into focus.

My hips are churning against him, desperate for some friction, and I kiss him without restraint, abandoning our slow, peaceful rhythm from earlier. I hadn’t realized I’d been working on the buttons of his shirt, but then a band of tan skin is exposed, and I dip my head to press my lips against it. 

He tugs my hair to bring my mouth back to his, and I practically attack him, biting his lip and pulling his hair and generally acting like a depraved cavewoman.

He doesn’t complain, though. His hands drag my hips closer, then slip under the hem of my sweater. 

The scrape of his callouses on my sides snaps me back to the shocking reality where I’m--yet again--making out with a man I hardly know, and I gasp, then curse, then practically jump backwards off his lap. 

Standing in front of him, I put a hand over my mouth like that’ll stop me from using it and look him over. 

He’s all sprawling legs and swollen lips and beautiful eyes, and I force my eyes to the ceiling. “You look like a hot, virginal dork I just deflowered in the back of my minivan,” I tell him. 

“I feel a bit like that,” he laughs, running a thumb over his bruised lips almost in shock. “Although it’s always nice to be desired.”

I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so distracted by him looking so thoroughly messy. 

But I know that despite what just happened, I can’t do this with him yet. 

I mean, I definitely could, and it definitely would be enjoyed by all parties involved, but I would regret it. 

Rhysand isn’t someone I can just sleep with and forget. I’ve known him a week, and I already feel a strange sort of bond with him. 

If we slept together, then never spoke again, it would hurt me more than I’d care to admit. 

“I think I should leave.”

He nods like he was expecting this, but asks, “Why?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I repeat what I said earlier. “Working for something makes you value it more, remember?”

He smiles and stands, taking a minute to straighten the clothes I’d pawed out of place.

“It also makes you do whatever it takes to keep it,” he reminds me, a shiver sweeping over me at the words. “Come on; I’ll walk you out.”

We go to the elevator and stay on opposite ends the entire ride down. I’m a little proud, because I most certainly thought about crossing over to his half. 

Stepping outside, Rhysand motions for Beefcakes to open the door. “He’ll drive you home.”

“Thank you,” I say, starting towards the car. 

I take two whole steps before he’s somehow in front of me, blocking the path. “Two more things.”

He kisses me, gently but firmly, then pulls back and slips a piece of paper in my hand. “It’s your turn to send smoke signals.”

I look down at the paper and see a number written in a slashing scrawl, intelligently putting together that it’s his phone number. I look back up to respond, but he’s already back at the entrance to the building. 

Rhysand looks over his shoulder, winks, and disappears inside. 

I get in the SUV and tell Beefcakes my address, and off we go. I study the piece of paper the entire way there, mind reeling with everything that happened today. 

The easy conversation, the art, the kiss. 

Is this how it feels to be swept off your feet?

And how long, exactly, do I have to wait before calling him?

________________________________________________

This took me so long to edit holy FUCK. Part 3

@perseusannabeth​ @cursebreaker29​ @a-bit-of-a-cactus​ @elriel4life​ @girl-who-reads-the-books​ @shinya-hiiragi​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @highqueenofelfhame​ @nahthanks​ @ghostlyrose2​ @tillyrubes10​ @claralady​ @tswaney17​ @rowanisahunk​ @superspiritfestival​ @thegoddessofyou​ @awesomelena555​ @booksofthemoon​ @greerlunna​ @jlinez​ @studyliketate​ @over300books​ @justgiu12​ @maastrash​ @aesthetics-11​ @bamchickawowow​ @b00kworm​ @sleeping-and-books​ @musicmaam​ @hizqueen4life​ @maybekindasortaace​ @elorcan-trash​ @emikadreams​ @alpha-omegas​ @joyceortiz13​ @sapphic-beauty​ @meowsekai​ @ahappyhistorianreader​

[torielectra83]

Garak and the Jack Pack

Want to thank

@volixia669

for giving me the idea and motivation; this is the first fic I've posted and finished in quite a while. Also gonna tag

@unicorn-and-bluebells

and

@tirlaeyn

since their DS9-related posts are what helped lead me to this (if there's a DS9-related Discord I should join, let me know); note that I'm not much of a shipper (and I'm ace), so I wasn't quite sure how to approach the Bashir/Garak relationship; I just left it in the background (and the lizard man t-shirt).

“Oh, Doctor. There you are, and I….see you’ve brought company!” As he could see, Dr. Bashir was heading for the Replimat for his typical luncheon with him, only four other people were crowded around him. A skinny man with a mustache, a stocky older man with a timid expression, a rather gregarious-looking woman, and another woman who looked rather distant. “Oh, hello Garak. I’d like to apologize for being a bit late.”

“Oh, don’t worry, given what I’m seeing it’s very much a valid excuse.” Garak had heard about the other genetically-engineered people who’d been sent to DS9 to meet Dr. Bashir, but he’d been busy with orders at his shop; he’d been thinking about hiring someone to help out, actually. “Well, that’s Jack, Patrick, Lauren and Sarina. This is my...friend Garak, he runs a tailoring shop here on the Promenade.” “Oh, hi there, Hi. Uh, I gotta go over to the replicator, I’m starving over here.” Jack promptly excused himself, while Lauren made her way to Garak next. “Well, hello, Mr. Garak.” She promptly began her flirtatious attitude. “If you’re trying to seduce me...it won’t work. I am sorry, but I do not generally do one night stands.” Surprised and somewhat disappointed, Lauren backed away.

Patrick then approached Garak. “Do you make clothes?” “Yes, I do.” Patrick then grinned eagerly. “Good, because the clothes the institute gives us are too...itchy and things like that. Do you have softer clothes?” “Well, I can certainly make some? I believe Dr. Bashir said you need “sensory-friendly” clothing?” Bashir nodded; the term was an old term from pre-warp Earth. “I’ll do it at no charge; anyone who’s a friend of Dr. Bashir is a friend of mine.” He sipped his Tarkalean tea as Jack argued with the replicator over not being able to make something, while Lauren used the other one to replicate a bowl of Vulcan plomeek soup.

“And… Sarina, is it? I’ve noticed you haven’t said anything yet.” Garak simply saw the young woman turn, before holding up a PADD, with words written on it -- “I can’t speak, If you want to have a conversation with me, use this.” She promptly set the PADD down and continued to watch Jack’s tussle with the computer. “Sarina’s unable to speak, I can explain the whole thing later Garak.” Julian felt the need to pre-emptlively apologize for their behavior. “Oh, you don’t need to. I’m seeing people with a lot of potential here.” Bashir nodded. “So do I. And not many others do. That’s why I brought them here. I want to try and help them.”

“They seem to be helping themselves.” As Garak watched, Jack had finally managed to get something from the replicator that agreed with his standards -- a ham sandwich with Bajoran mapa bread. “So, this is the irrefutable Elim Garak, huh?” Jack asked. “Yes, and I see my reputation precedes me.” Garak said politely. “That’s right. Former intelligence agent for the now-defunct Obsidian Order, exiled and now working as a tailor here on DS9.” He said hastily before ripping into his sandwich. Garak raised an eyebrow. “And how did you find that out?” He asked, a tone of interest in his voice. “Oh, you’d be surprised what you can dig up on the extranet. There’s all sorts of unsavory rumors about you, like you causing a Cardassian doctor to break down by staring at them for four hours straight.” He promptly chugged from his cup of targ milk, before continuing. “And that your father was the head of the Obsidian Order, Enabrian Tain, and he got wiped out by the Dominion when the Obsidian Order and Tal Shiar teamed up, yeah, but they didn’t know the second-in-command of the Tal Shiar was actually a Changeling leading them right into a trap!”

“I...think we will have to pick up this conversation sometime later, Doctor.” Garak was getting rather uncomfortable at all this private information being practically shouted in the Promenade. “Oh, and I’ll see what I can do about those new clothes you requested, Patrick.” As Garak walked back to his shop, getting his mind off old events, he began pondering about what to do in the present. My orders are backlogged. I simply need help. As he opened his shop doors to see the current state -- half-finished orders, bolts of fabric all over and supplies in crates he hadn’t unpacked. “I must find someone to help me. I would get Julian but he’s too busy with being in Starfleet.” Garak sighed, and began getting back to working on an order.

Some time later...

Having returned from the Defiant, Dr. Bashir went into Garak’s shop, expecting to see it as it had been for some time -- cluttered and filled with things Garak was working on. He instead found it a hive of activity. Customers were entering and exiting, some waiting for their orders, others were looking at holographic models of new clothes to order. Bashir looked around in confusion. “What the…'' Suddenly, a figure blocked by their holding of several bolts of fabric maneuvered into view. “Look out, everyone!” Bashir knew that voice. “Patrick?!” “Oh, hi, Dr. Bashir.” Patrick didn’t even turn back as he carried the bolts into the back of the shop. “Patrick, how did you get here?” Bashir followed him, and realized the entire “Jack Pack” (as someone, most likely Quark, had nicknamed them) was working there. Patrick set the bolts down for Jack, who proceeded to start measuring what exactly was needed for that order. Lauren was busy inputting data of some kind into a PADD, while Sarina was sewing an order up. “Ah, Doctor, good to see you’ve returned home safe and sound!” Garak greeted him cheerily from behind his desk.

“Garak, what is going on here? How did they…” “Well, Julian. I saw their potential and I needed help. And so far, they have been excelling at everything they’ve been doing. I haven’t been this efficient, ever!” Garak looked positively delighted at this. It was rare to see him like this, and Julian was a noted expert on Garak’s emotions. “But...what about the Institute? And Dr. Loews?” “Well, she needed a vacation, and my offer to give them steady employment was something she couldn’t pass up.”

“Oh, well then. But...how are you so busy now?” Julian wondered. “Well, their brightness led them to not only help clear my backorders, but also introduce whole new product lines based on pre-warp Earth stylings. I will admit I knew little about it, but they have brought in several new kinds of clothing. Like this ‘tee shirt’.” Garak promptly held one up, the front reading “WWCKD?” with a small line underneath reading “What Would Captain Kirk Do?” “They’ve come up with several of these things. Like this one for the USS Voyager.” The shirt had a fictional flyer on the front with a picture of Voyager, underneath a “Missing: Reward” banner as if it were a lost dog. “We’ve also re-created other Earth fashions, from “bell-bottoms” to “zoot suits”. I must admit, they make most current styles of clothing look downright boring!”

“Yeah, Dr. Bashir! Here’s one we made especially for you!” Jack promptly handed him a T-shirt and headed into the front of the shop. Julian simply looked at Garak with an expression of disbelief. “Garak, we caught them trying to pass on classified information to the Dominion, and now, they’re recommending I wear a t-shirt that says ‘If lost, return to lizard man for reward’!” He said angrily, shaking the shirt in his hand for added emphasis.

“Doctor...these people needed another chance. One that nobody else was willing to give them. And another thing...they are still very useful analysts. They can predict trends, root out information and generally think far ahead of the game. To be quite honest, they’re the best analysts I’ve ever seen. “ Garak admitted. “Yeah, where else can you get a nice new pair of pants and information of Dominion troop movements?” Lauren commented.

“So...you’re basically running your own intelligence service out of this shop.” Bashir muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Well, there has to be a third-party intel service somewhere. With the Obsidian Order gone, there’s a market for it; we used to take on clients for analysis as a method for extra revenue. Strictly off the books, of course. So that’s what I’m doing now.” Garak reasoned. “And we aren’t just doing war intelligence either; we’ve got multiple projects for the Ferengi Alliance, the First Federation and the Gorn Hegemony for analyzing things like market trends, population censuses and whatnot.” Patrick nodded. “Yeah, Grand Nagus Zek and Ishka appreciate it! We got in touch with them thanks to the Ferengi maintenance guy, oh, what was his name…”

“Rom, that’s him. Real friendly guy. Came up with the self-replicating mines around the wormhole and keeps the holosuites running, real good guy.” Jack said at his normal speedy pace, before returning to his fabric measuring. Sarina promptly passed a PADD to Bashir, with a message reading “This is the best we’ve been treated in years. We’re working for ourselves, we’re constantly kept active, and we’re being paid 5 strips of latinum an hour.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, Doctor. We’ve got a lot to do before closing time today. After that we can meet at Quark’s, perhaps? Jack came up with this astounding holo-program based on another pre-warp Earth cultural thing, a “game show” called...Wipeout, yes. It involved picking the right answers and avoiding the wrong ones, it’s fascinating. But we have work to do and I’m sure you have work in the infirmary.”

Garak promptly ushered Dr. Bashir out of the store and back onto the Promenade. “...what just happened?”