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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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The Magic Reveal fic we deserve, in which Merlin gets as angry as he deserves to get:

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Don’t get me wrong I LOVE a magic reveal with a Merlin who feels bad about lying. I love a reveal with Arthur being furious and Merlin crying but then they talk it out and all is well. I think it's pretty in-character for Merlin to want to see Arthur come to his own conclusions about magic, without being influenced by Merlin’s opinions

BUT I also kinda wanna see Merlin get angry? Like, why should he feel bad about hiding himself in a kingdom where "himself" gets him nothing but a pyre?? Yeah, he and Arthur are close, but unless you've lived with a secret like that (one that will get you shunned, hated, or even killed) then, and I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH, it doesn't matter How Close you are with someone, how certain you are that they would never hurt you, or care either way, it will almost ALWAYS be scary to tell them. So like. Let Merlin get angry:

I'd say Arthur has been king for maybe a year at this point. He's still a new monarch, still a lot on his plate, BUT also still plenty of time for him to have repealed the ban on magic, or at least started working on it.

But he hasn't.

Granted he hasn't executed anyone in a while (banishments and prison time are the norm, executions are only used nowadays for high treason). BUT the law still remains, it's still technically punishable by death, to be a sorcerer.

Arthur and Merlin have little hunting trips, when Arthur is getting too stressed and losing too much sleep, when he trains the knights too hard and snaps at even Gaius, Merlin (or sometimes even Leon, if they're both being grumpy arseholes) insists that they leave the city for a day or more, to go hunting.

The council have been told it's so the King can keep up with his fitness, can keep familiar with his lands, and keep his skills sharp (he only has enough time to train with the knights a couple times a week nowadays, a far cry from the several hours he used to do every morning without fail), and that keeps them satisfied.

The Gang (the Knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana (she's good in this because that's what I want let me have this)) know the truth, that sometimes the two of them just need a few days to goof off and be themselves, to finally get some time to relax. They'll grab a couple hares and maybe a stag on the way back if they can, so they can at least pretend that's what they've been doing the whole time.

These trips can last anywhere between a day, to two weeks, and Arthur leaves the same set of instructions with the council and the knights every time:

"The safety of Camelot’s people is your highest priority. I leave Sir Leon in charge of everything to do with the knights, patrol, and should any form of conflict arise. If there is an emergency, you are to consult the Inner Council (I don’t know if that's a thing but let's say it is; its The Gang), and send a squire on horseback to fetch me immediately. There's one boy in the troupe who always manages to track me the down the quickest, so make sure he's the one sent, Sir Leon knows who I speak of."

(He's improved over the years, but Arthur is still very... cagey, when it comes to compliments, and his trust. Leon will never mention it, but the fact that Arthur leaves the safety of the kingdom to him, without hesitation or worry, makes him feel greatly honoured. That is the highest form of trust Arthur is capable of giving.)

ANYWAY I feel like most of this has just been backstory so let's get into it:

Normally it's Merlin or Leon who demand that the trip needs to happen.

This time

It's Arthur.

Arthur has tried to ignore it (he's trying to get better but he's not great with emotions and stuff, the big dummy) but Merlin has been in a sour mood for weeks now. He's been quiet and withdrawn, snappy, and has been avoiding Arthur whenever possible.

At first it was easy to ignore, when it started a few months ago it was barely noticeable to anyone who didn't know the two of them Very Well, but in the last few weeks it's become a problem.

Arthur reckons a trip might do them some good. Merlin can relax, and will either get over whatever is bothering him, or be comfortable enough to talk to Arthur about it.

So they head out. Merlin doesn't seem too happy about the trip but he doesn’t complain.

(Odd in itself, if Merlin is unhappy about something he usually makes it known.)

The first couple of days are... odd, to say the least. It seems that every time Arthur notices Merlin relax, he quickly tightens up again. One short, joking conversation is followed by a few more hours of painful, awkward silence.

Arthur comes to the daunting realisation, that if he wants to help is friend (and the love of his life but like... baby blondie has hardly reached that conclusion himself, he might need a bit more time on that) is to confront it head on.

So they're settling down in the evening. The fire is roaring, the horses have been fed and watered, dinner has been eaten, and the two of them are sat at opposite ends of the fire (Very Odd, they're usually glued at the hip, especially when it's just the two of them).

Arthur looks at his friend properly for the first times in a while and he Does Not Like what he sees.

Merlin is visibly exhausted, big bags under his eyes, and his skin paler than normal, scowling ever so slightly into the fire. Shoulders tense, and hands gripping each other until the skin on his knuckles is white. And despite all that, Arthur thinks that Merlin looks more sad, than angry.

Maybe Merlin notices Arthur's staring, they hold eye contact for a little while before Merlin becomes sort of... resigned?? To the fact that he's gonna have to have this conversation whether he wants it or not? He goes to say something but before he can, Arthur interrupts him:

"So Merlin. How do you think I'm doing so far?"

(Which is a stupid thing to say, really. But Arthur is, as we've already established, extremely emotionally constipated, and he figures that finding out what's wrong with Merlin indirectly, and then subtly fixing it behind his back, is a far better idea than asking him to his face.)

Merlin clenches his jaw and looks away it this, his reply and his body language clearly sending different messages:

"You know what I think. You're going to be a great king."

Arthur thinks : "(Going to be? I've been king for a year, there's been no war and far fewer attempts on my life than when I was a prince. There's been a good harvest, all diplomatic meetings have gone well, and more peace treaties, and trade agreements, have been signed in the last twelve months, than in the ten years before it. I know I can still do better but... does Merlin not think I'm good?")

Arthur says : "Going to be? I think I'm a pretty great King already if I do say so myself."

"Then why ask? Besides. There are a few things you haven't done."

Merlin's tone is biting, even though he tries to force it out casually. Arthur notices. ”There are a few things you haven't done”... that means something specific.

"Hmm. I suppose. What things did you have in mind then, Merlin?"

Arthur also tries to sound casual, but the question comes out very pointed

Merlin desperately doesn't want to say it out loud, in fear of revealing too much of himself, so he goes with the vague answer of:

"Promises were made. I guess I just figured you weren't the type to break them, that's all. I'm sure you'll get there in time."

Merlin sounds sort of hopeful there. But the sort of hope that he's been living with for years, the sort of hope that has a layer of sadness and resignation laying over the the top like a tablecloth.

Arthur notices:

"Promises?" He doesn’t want to talk too much or too loudly, in fear that Merlin realises that he's speaking openly and clams up again.

Arthur has realised, over the last year or two, that despite their closeness, despite the endless conversations they seem to have, he doesn't really know all that much about Merlin. He knows he doesn’t spend as much time picking herbs, or in the tavern, as he and Gaius would claim. He doesn't know his favourite colour, or season, or holiday. He doesn't know when abouts his birthday is, or what he likes eating. He doesn't know much about his childhood, he's never mentioned his father.

(Despite all this, he's still in love with the idiot, but again, a revelation for another time.)

Merlin responds "To the druids. You promised they would be welcomed, that magic would return. I know your opinions on magic-"

(The manservant visibly shuffles at this, uncomfortable.)

"-but I figured a promise is a promise. Keeping your word had always seemed so important to you. Before."

Arthur notices the past tense. Like Merlin doesn’t believe that Arthur holds importance to his word anymore:

"I'm not my father Merlin. There have been no executions just for the sake of it since I took the crown."

Merlin’s reply comes quickly, in a harsh tone:

"Yes I know that. But your fathers law still remains. It's technically still punishable by execution just to exist as a sorcerer in your kingdom."

(Arthur notices the thinly veiled disgust in Merlin's voice when he mentions Uther. Arthur knew that Merlin disliked the previous king, but he didn’t think he hated him that much.)

Merlin is getting more and more visibly frustrated at this point. Both at Arthur, and the topic of conversation, but also at himself, for letting himself become so worked up over something he'd sworn to keep Arthur away from.

"You really didn't like my Father did you Merlin?" He says it with a chuckle, trying to keep the conversation light and casual.

(This is NOT a conversation that should be light and casual, his friend is in pain, and revealing more of himself than he ever had before, this should be serious. But Arthur isn't quite sure how to do that, so inappropriately light and casual is what he goes for.)

Merlin responds with a quiet, but forceful:

"I hated him. I still do. He's your father, I know that you're not him, and I know you can't help your heritage. But I'll never forgive Uther for what he did. And I'm not angry that he's...gone."

Arthur's very much taken aback at that. He knows everyone has... strong opinions on Uther, but they've never voiced it in front of him.

"Why?? I mean I know he put you in the stocks a couple of times, but so have I to be fair. Why do you hate him so much?"

(This is the point Merlin gets angry. Or angrier. This is when he stops trying to hide it, stops trying to hold it in. Arthur hadn't gotten angry at Merlin for talking about Uther in such a way, he was just curious. Merlin had been planning on telling him the truth at some point anyway, so he might as well do it now, with no one else around, and Arthur in a goodish mood.)

Merlin jumps up, clenching his fists and staring Arthur in the eye for the first time since the start of the conversation, breathing deeply.

Arthur is taken even further aback at Merlin's sudden unwillingness to hide his true reaction to the topic at hand, but he doesn't say anything, and just waits for Merlin’s response

"Why?? Why do I hate him? Maybe because he was blinded fear and selfish hatred."

Merlin stops and looks away, but doesn't sit down, still tense.

I imagine he's waiting for Arthur to say something, but he doesn’t, opting to wait for Merlin to carry on himself, unwilling to remind Merlin exactly who he was talking to, and about what.

After a few moments of silence, Merlin continues, getting angrier with each word as he paces:

"Your father, the Great King Uther, murdered thousands of people. He committed genocide, because he insisted on blaming other people for his own mistakes. He didn't pay attention to the fine print, and killed his own wife and in return, he executes THOUSANDS of MY people. Just for daring to exist. He was so full of hatred, but he, of course, was infallible so it MUST have been someone else's fault. He was incapable of admitting his own mistakes and the injustice that went unpunished is indescribable, he was a tyrant, and a murderer, and I'll never forgive him."

(Arthur knows the truth about what happened to his Ma in this story, I don’t know how, he just does. And it's a topic of conversation he avoids like the plague.)

At the end of his little outburst, Merlin stills. He is shaking as he glares at the floor, and is more furious than Arthur has ever seen him before.

The King notices the little slip up.

"Your people?" He says, so quietly it's a wonder Merlin hears it.

Merlin freezes at this, at the realisation that there's no real way he can play this off. He was planning on telling him at some point anyway. They're miles away from the city in the middle of a large, barely tamed forest. If he needs to run for his life, he could get away easily enough.

"Yes Arthur. My people. You really should've let me speak first."

Arthur is reminded of the fact that Merlin had opened his mouth to say something, before he'd interrupted him at the beginning of the conversation. It felt like it was hours ago now, but it was really only a few minutes.

The King isn’t nearly as shocked as he thinks he should be. He knew there was something odd and secretive about Merlin, and he'd considered that he might have magic in the early days, but that hadn't been a genuine consideration for years.

He wants to be angry, and selfish, and furious at Merlin for lying to him all this time. But after hearing Merlin’s little speech, does he really have any right to?

Yes, Arthur hadn't executed any sorcerers, but he also hadn't changed the law. He hadn't stood up to his father and he certainly hadn't tried to stop the executions before he was King himself. Can he really blame Merlin? For being scared? For being angry?

"You're a sorcerer." It's not a question. It's a statement. In his mind he knows the truth, but it needs to be confirmed, out loud, by Merlin himself, before they can move the conversation on.

"Yes."

And that's all he says. Arthur waits. And when he's tired of waiting, when he realises that Merlin isn't just gonna carry on talking this time, he speaks up:

"And?"

"And what, Arthur? What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry I lied? Yes, I feel bad for lying to you, but I'll never apologise for protecting myself in a kingdom that would see me burn. And I would do it again in a heartbeat"

Arthur nods. He's tense, but he notices that he isn't scared and he wonders why, after all, as far as he was aware magic had only (almost only) caused him pain and fear.

(In the back of his mind he knows why he's not scared. Merlin doesn't have an evil bone in his body, and he's met the druids, he knows that some magic users are peaceful.)

He looks up at Merlin to see him staring at him, a sort of challenging look on his face, like he was daring Arthur to prove him right. Daring him to be selfish, and angry, and just like his father.

But when Arthur looks deeper. Really Looks at Merlin. He sees the fear, Arthur has no doubt in his mind that Merlin could escape, or even fight him off, now, if he needed to. But Merlin is scared.

If that wasn't enough to break Arthur's heart, the quick glance that Merlin throws to the space a few feet from Arthur's side, is.

Arthur looks over slowly, eyebrows furrowed, to see what Merlin glanced at so fearfully. His heart shatters when he realises what it is. Arthurs sword, sat underneath his bag, just out of his reach. Merlin thinks Arthur is going to kill him. Merlin is scared. Of Arthur.

Arthur looks back at Merlin, disbelief and gut wrenching sadness on his face. He resists the urge to jump up (knowing it would just panic Merlin) as he speaks, trying to keep his tone calming, but it comes out rushed and desperate anyway:

"I'm not going to hurt you Merlin, I swear. I'm...sorry, if my actions and words have led you to believe that I would EVER see any harm come to you."

It's over the last minute, the anger and fear from Merlin, that forces Arthur to realise the legacy he's dealing with. That Uther had done so much damage, had struck so much fear into Merlin, that it didn't matter how close they were. Any subtle, deliberate ignorance of the law wasn’t enough. Any small compliments, or defence of Merlin, wasn't enough.

As long as the law remained, as long as Arthur left his fathers legacy intact, with not even a small attempt to dismantle it, Merlin would be scared of him.

Merlin relaxes only slightly at Arthur's words, gulps, and glances once more at the sword before sitting down again. He’s still tense as he stares into the fire once more.

"All these years you've been putting your life at risk, to stay at my side. You could've quit at any time. You could've stayed in the relative safety of Ealdor, but you didn't. Why? I want to know everything Merlin. You... you mean a great deal to me, and it pains me to see you in fear. And I know it's no one’s fault but my own, and I want to fix it. So the whole story, from the beginning, I want to know."

It's Merlin’s turn to be taken aback now. In his mind, everything he's said and done in the last few minutes should be making Arthur angry. The disrespect of Uther, the tone of voice he had taken, the shouting. All of that even before the admittance of his greatest secret. But still Arthur wasn't angry, he was confused, and maybe hadn't quite processed it yet, but mostly he was just sad, sad that Merlin had to be angry on his own. Sad that Merlin had to be fearful on his own.

So he does. He starts at the beginning. His mother sending him to Camelot so Gaius could train him. Saving Arthurs life that first banquet. Saving his life again a few days later. And again. And again. And again

He talks about all the small insignificant magicks he did: cheating at dice games and keeping Arthur's bath water warm and making sure the fire stays lit through the night and helping the knights sleep when they're out and about.

He talks about all the big magicks he did: killing Nimueh and being the last Dragon-Lord and Balinor being his father, and all the great battles he had won and all the times he'd saved Arthur when Arthur hadn't even realised he'd been in danger.

He talks about everything in between. About every lucky fallen branch and every lucky rockslide and every lucky solution that wouldn't have worked without Merlin... nudging it in the right direction.

He talks and talks and talks until his throat is sore. And Arthur stays silent, unwilling to interrupt, listening intently and saving any questions and queries until the end.

After an hour or so, Merlin hesitates, but Arthur can tell that there's something else. Something he's not saying. Something that in Merlin's mind, is the scariest truth of all. So he stays silent, and waits for Merlin to continue:

"The old man that you think killed your father. Dragoon, the sorcerer who kept popping up but was never in the same room as me? That was me, in disguise."

He looks nervous at this and looks up at Arthur. Before, he'd been explaining everything with a blank but resolute look on his face, still staring into the fire (that hadn't been fed in well over an hour, but was still going strong).

Arthur just looks surprised, he'd never considered that Dragoon had been anyone but himself.

"I tried Arthur. I may have hated your father but I tried to save him. But the pendant around his neck stopped it from working and healing magic has never been my strong point anyway. I really did try."

Arthur nods at this. He figured there had been no reason for the old sorcerer to kill his father, and after consulting Gaius and realising the truth about the pendant, he didn't blame him. Though he never told anyone, not even Merlin, why would he? His manservant had never even met the guy.

"I know. I'm sorry, it can’t have been easy, thinking I blamed you for his death all these months. I'm sorry Merlin."

Merlin looks surprised but quietly grateful. Over the course of the last hour of explanation he had slowly become more and more relaxed, realising that Arthur really meant it when he said he wasn't going to hurt him, and just wanted the truth.

Merlin was still scared, and a big part of him still believed he'd probably be banished at the least at the end of this conversation. But it still felt good to get it off his chest.

"But you still haven't answered my question. Why? We didn't know each all that well those first few weeks. Months even. We practically hated each other at the beginning. But you stayed anyway. Despite hating me and despite being in constant danger. Why?"

Merlin once again hesitates at this. He tried his best but even after all these years, he's not quite sure how to navigate conversations about destiny, especially his own, and especially how it's tied so intrinsically with Arthur’s.

Instead he says:

"What do you know about Emrys?" He really needs a starting reference for this part of the conversation, and at this point, the best way to get it is to ask directly.

Arthur goes to question why, but Merlin has been nothing but honest and straight forward with him, so he trusts that it’s important, and answers truthfully:

"Not much. A few Druids have mentioned him to me before. Apparently they've been seeing him in prophetic dreams for centuries, the Druids have quite a few "seers" in their ranks. He's meant to be some great sorcerer, whose destiny it is to bring Magic and peace to Albion, with some King or other at his side. I never payed much attention to it, I hardly believe in visions of the future."

Merlin nods at that:

"You've got most of it. Emrys is meant to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past, present, and future. When Uther started culling sorcerers, an astronomical amount of magic was poured back into the earth all at once. The Triple Goddess took that magic and put it all in one place, in one unborn baby, in the hope that said baby would grow into his power, and restore balance and compassion to the world. The Druids call him Emrys but it's just a title, like King, or Sir, not his real name. He, and the Once and Future King, are meant to rule with the support of one another, uniting all of Albion under the King’s rule, and bringing magic back into the land. Emrys and the Forever King, two sides of the same coin, their destinies interwoven."

Merlin goes silent at that, and Arthur thinks he knows where this is going, but he Needs the confirmation:

"What's that got to do with anything?" is quietly muttered.

"You're the Forever King Arthur. And I am Emrys. Though it's weird enough when the druids call me that so just... let's stick with Merlin alright?"

"All those times you said I would be a great King, all those times you had unfailing faith in me, was because of destiny?"

Arthur tries not so sound hurt, but he’s never cared for, or believed, in destiny. Up until now he'd thought Merlin had had faith in him as Arthur, his friend, not as some prophetic Once and Future King that Arthur was afraid he would never be.

"At first, sure. I was angry, that my destiny had been decided for me. That I couldn't just ignore it because if I did then the world would never know peace. I never asked for that responsibility I just wanted... I just wanted to keep my mother safe. I wanted to learn how to be a physician and use my magic to help and entertain and brighten the world. Just a little bit. And suddenly I had this big important role to play. I hated it. But I did it anyway, kept you safe. And then I got to know you as a person and you weren't your father. You Love Camelot, you Love your people, you're a good man who does everything in his power to help those around him, even if they don't deserve it sometimes. And suddenly, having my destiny be to help you to greatness... well, it didn't seem so bad anymore. Maybe it was your destiny to be that Great King from prophecy, because you were already a good man."

Arthur is speechless at that. Tears gather in his eyes but neither of them mention it and he doesn't let them fall. Merlin had been almost as nice as that in the past, but never so fully, and with the weight of the truth behind it, it seemed much more meaningful.

Merlin gives him a sad smile before he continues:

"I'm your servant until the day I die Arthur. I have faith that one day, you'll do the right thing."

Arthur suddenly remember the whole point of this conversation. That Merlin was upset and angry that he hadn't repealed the ban on magic yet, that Merlin was still waiting on him. Waiting on him to do the right thing. Waiting on him to fulfil his destiny.

Maybe they head straight home? Merlin walks into Arthur's chambers the next morning to find him already up and pacing, making a start on the repeal?

Maybe Arthur demands they go to the closest Druid settlement so he can consult them on how he should go about it? Merlin’s knowledge of magic is great and all, but neither of them were alive before the purge, neither know how it would work practically.

All I know, is whenever Merlin first comes across Arthur working on the repeal, determination in his eyes, he cries a little. That everything he sacrificed is finally paying off.

I also know, that the first time Arthur timidly asks Merlin to show him something magical (maybe that's straight after this tiring conversation, or maybe its days later, back in the safety of Arthur's locked chambers) Merlin cries even harder, Arthur is still scared of magic, how could he not be. But he loves and trusts Merlin more than anything in this world, and he wants to learn to not be scared anymore.

THIS IS COMPLETED!!

All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific, let me know✌

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notepadsandtealeaves · 2 years

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Dick Grayson x GN!Reader in: So Kiss Me~, Pt. 1

12 Days of Batmas || Day 9—Kissing Under the Mistletoe

↞ previous: movie nights with the (bat)boys™ pt. 1 || watching holiday specials

|| ao3 version | 12 days m.list | batboys tag | main blog ||

|| dames day 9 | jay day 9 | tim day 9 || ((links pending))

Ofc he knows that he doesn’t need an excuse to kiss you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna take it lol.

Mistletoe, mistletoe everywhere…

↠ Requested By: No one, technically ((but given the fact that I’ve been working on this series since last year I’m sure you’re all ready for me to wrap this ish up lmao)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs/TWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ↠ Total WC: 400~

Post’s title comes from this bop ((nobody look at me, I’m mentally regressing to a time before the shit show that is the 2020s lmao))

Another set of HCs, but this time around they’re even shorter lmao. Sorry about it folks, but my brain’s already checked out of this shitshow of a year if I’m being completely honest lol. But begardless of the length, I hope you all can still get a bit of enjoyment out of this!

Headcanon || WC: 400~

🌟 Unsurprisingly he’s super into it lol.

Dick’s one of those people who flows in all love languages, but his top two are acts of service/gift giving (I know those are separate, but with him they kinda mesh together) and physical affection.

Because of this he has a hard time keeping his hands off of you. Naturally this doesn’t always translate as intimate in the spicy way; sometimes he just wants to hold and be held, to feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips, the pant of your breath against his neck, the beat of your heart against his ear.

All of this proof that you’re here, together, safe and sound, a thing that he needs to be reassured about more often than he cares to admit to, honestly.

More angsty reasons aside, he loves the hell out of you and thinks you’re just the cutest thing to ever ever so it’s not exactly surprising that he’s the type to constantly want to love on you.

Lots of casual touches all day, every day, ranging from chaste forehead kisses to impromptu cuddle sessions (usually initiated by him flopping down on top of you and burrowing into your warmth lol), so naturally this holiday tradition fits right in with his vibes.

🌟 Ofc he knows that he doesn’t need an excuse to kiss you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna take it lol.

He has definitely posted little sprigs of the stuff in every doorway/hall your home possesses before proceeding to follow you around for his free smooches.

He’s also the type of nerd that’ll get one of those doofy headbands with the mistletoe attached, and then proceed to use his height advantage for all it’s worth.

You taller than him? Not a problem! He’s a Grayson, remember, and a Bat besides, so he’ll get on some good Spiderman shit if that’s what it takes lmao.

((ugh, he’s so damn extra—I love it))

Another one that’s not at all shy about PDA, so expect to be kissed breathless the minute he catches you under the sprig. He won’t take things too far, but by the time he’s done your cheeks are gonna be on fire because goddamn does this man have a kiss on him.

Even when it’s just a peck it’s like weirdly enticing? Maybe it’s just his natural charisma mixing in with the ridiculously high levels of attraction that you have for him that does it, but either way you’ll always find yourself chasing after his lips, and he’s always, always willing to oblige…

🌟 Up Next: Day Ten || Holiday Party ((check back tomorrow!!))

Taglist is open, but to 18+ users only.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol...

#((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x gn!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson hc #dick grayson fluff

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icantthinkofanythingcool3 · 3 years

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Hii I saw ur post about short blurbs and was wondering if you could do 5 or 13 🤍🤍

Well this did not end up being short 🤦‍♀️ but here ya go! Hope you enjoy!💜

It had been 2 years since y/n had moved away from Beacon Hills and half of her friends. Kira and y/n had ended up at the same college and in the same dorm. Lydia and Stiles both ended up about a half hour from them in different directions. The group was still close, but things were definitely different for all of them. Kira and Scott had grown apart and Scott and Malia had grown closer. Lydia and y/n had grown closer than before, they were always going back and forth on the weekends visiting with each other. Although y/n and Stiles were really close before, things had simmered down right before they left for school two years ago.

All their friends had sworn that the two were going to be together, even with college coming up. They were going to school close enough where they could totally still pursue a relationship. Somewhere though, Stiles and y/n had ‘grown apart’. At least that’s what their friends thought. In reality, neither of them really knew what had happened. It was like one moment they were falling for each other and the next it was just gone. Y/n and Stiles had both tried on different occasions to talk to each other, but something always got in the way.

Y/n walked into her apartment, that Kira was decorating...for Valentine's Day. “UGHHHHHH. Kira I thought we decided not to make a big deal out of this stupid holiday.”

“No...you decided that. Just because you’re still stuck on Stiles, doesn’t mean everyone else can’t be happy about love.” Kira announced.

“That’s not-no you’re. Ugh, whatever.” y/n replied, not having a come back, because what she had said was true.

y/n was still really hung up on Stiles, she was still so confused about what had happened to them back in Beacon Hills. There had been plenty of times since then that Lydia, Kira, y/n and Stiles had gotten together to hang out, even times when Scott and the others had come down to visit. However, their interactions were always strange and confusing. She hadn’t been able to date anyone else, and was honestly just making herself super unhappy.

“Before you make yourself too depressed, this was slipped under the door for you today.” Kira handed her a note, folded up with a huge heart on one side and y/n on the other.

“What...what is this?”

“I don’t know silly, clearly I haven’t opened it...since it’s for you…”

Y/n’s eyes rolled as the note was opened. It was typed and it read:

"When love is not madness it is not love." –Pedro Calderon de la Barca.

I have felt nothing but madness from the moment I laid eyes on you.

As she read it to Kira, she let out a screech, “y/n!!!!! Omg you totally have a secret admirer! This is so EXCITING!”

However y/n was doubtful, she left Kira to go to her room. Who on Earth could have sent this to her? Was it a joke? Was it real? The next day, nothing appeared under the door and it disappointed y/n, even though they would never admit that, especially to Kira!

The next day however, when y/n got home from work Kira was waiting impatiently by the door with a note in her hands. It looked exactly like the other one. She basically threw it in my face and stood over my shoulder as she repeated ‘open it, open it, open it’ in my ear.

This one read:

“Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up as the brain empties.” – Jules Renard. This, I can assure you, is true. I make dumb mistakes every time I’m around you.

“I literally have no idea who could be doing this. I don’t talk to anyone, no one even notices me around here!” y/n exclaimed, confused.

“Well, you must be wrong, because someone is DEFINITELY noticing you!!!!”

“No, this is just wrong. This has got to be a joke or something. I’m telling you. Throw away any other ones, I’m serious.” With that, y/n walked into her room and slammed the door, she was done with this.

The next day was normal, but y/n wasn’t hopeful that she wouldn’t get another letter, and the next day, the 5th of February, Kira was waiting again with another note.

“You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought.” – Conan Doyle. You are the only thing I can think about lately, you’re in my every thought.

y/n didn’t know what to think anymore. Was this person a freaking psycho stalker? How did they know where I lived? We’re they stalking me?

“Kira, I know that you’re sitting here thinking this is some romantic love story...but what if this is some crazy stalker that now knows where we live? Like what if they break in and kill us in the middle of the night?”

“y/n I think you’re being a little dramatic. I feel like this is someone that has to know you in some way. This is some intense shit.”

“We’re gonna die...watch.” y/n finished, over the anxiety this was causing her.

Two days later, y/n didn’t have class. She was going back and forth from the front door, to her room. She was stuck between being excited and worried. Half of her believed that this was some kind of cruel joke, the other half thought maybe someone actually did like her. By 4 o’clock, she thought maybe that it was over, but as she made her way out of there room, there was a note by the door.

"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back." - Plato. This one may be corny, but it’s true, I feel this with you.

This definitely sounded like someone that knew her. But how could she be so oblivious? How could there be someone this into her and she had no idea. That’s why she still believed that this could be a joke. Like clockwork, two days later she got another note.

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” – Dr. Seuss. I swear since I started these notes, I haven’t been able to sleep at all. I know this is probably starting to creep you out, I promise that you know me and I know you. I’m not a random person.

“I’m sure that this is supposed to make me feel better Kira, but I feel worse. How do I not know this person likes me, if they like me this much?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking from the beginning of this, do you think it could be Stiles?”

“WHAT?” y/n asked incredulously, “Come on, there’s no way. First of all, that would mean he would have to drive a half hour here and back every other day to slip these under the door? There’s no way, that would be crazy.”

“I mean, you guys definitely had something and then suddenly you guys just stopped. You’re still awkward around each other, maybe this is the only way he can get you back?”

“No. Seriously. Stop that’s, that’s. No, that's crazy.” But later that night, what Kira said had gotten the best of y/n. She did something she hadn’t done in a while, she called Stiles.

As soon as he answered, y/n regretted it, “y/n? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no nothing’s wrong. Sorry, I’m not even sure why I called…...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for calling, you know.”

“Yeah, sorry- shit I mean okay. I-I gotta go talk to you later.” And she hung up, she felt so stupid why would she call him? Kira and these damn notes have gotten her head all twisted up. She should know better than to think Stiles could have done this, she was getting her hopes up just thinking about it.

Two days later, y/n could hardly think at work. Her mind was all in a swirl and she kept making mistakes and dropping shit, by the end of her shift she was exhausted. As she had expected, when she got home, Kira was sitting on the couch, holding a new note.

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” – Rumi. I haven’t known you forever, but when I met you it was like I had known you my whole life.

“There’s only three days left until Valentine's Day. What’s going to happen? Is this all leading up to something? Or are the notes just going to stop?”

“I guess that’s the fun part!” But when y/n looked at her pointedly she continued, “I know this is freaking you out and giving you anxiety, but this could be a good thing. Whoever it is, really cares about you. And I’m not getting creepy vibes from any of this, if someone was going to break in and kill us, I think they already would have.”

y/n knew that Kira was right, she shouldn’t be so freaked out about this. It didn’t seem like a creepy kind of thing, the notes were sweet and heartfelt, and they definitely, probably would have already been killed. So all y/n could do was wait.

As y/n made her way through the day before Valentine’s hazily, she could barely focus. She kept texting Kira, asking if she had found anything yet. Seeing as she was still in class, she had not. Y/n wanted nothing more than to leave her classes and go to the apartment, but she knew if the note wasn’t there yet, she would get even more impatient. So when Kira finally texted her that she got home and there was a note, y/n excused herself from her class and rushed home. Kira was waiting, almost as impatiently as y/n, with the note in her hand!

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” – Lao Tzu. Meet me at Hilton tomorrow, 7PM, there’ll be a note left at the front desk.

“What? Kira, am I really supposed to just go to this random hotel and meet this random person?”

“I mean they said you know them, so they’re not that random!”

“I know a lot of people! It could be the cute barista that gets my coffee everyday! I technically know him, but would I go into a random hotel room with him? NO.”

“Okay, then I drive you there, and you keep me on the phone. If anything funky happens I’ll run up and save your ass. I think you should go. I see the look in your eyes when you read the notes, you’re excited. I haven’t seen you genuinely excited in a long time.”

Kira had saved my life multiple times, I trusted her, and it was a good plan. I was excited, she was right, I was stupid for thinking that I would get it past her. And I wasn’t exactly defenseless, I had learned to fight through many years of fighting off the supernatural. I decided it couldn't hurt, if anything it would end up a good story to tell one day.

The next day was torture waiting for 7pm. Especially since y/n had no class and only finding an outfit to distract her. y/n called Lydia in the morning, while Lydia had been pissed that she’d only just heard about this, she insisted on y/n video chatting her to pick an outfit. Together, they had decided on a blush pink dress, with a small flower design. There was a belt that tied right under the chest, that accentuated the top of y/n’s body and flowed down nicely to a little above the knee. They picked out black kitten heels, which according to Lydia, y/n should have already had. It was 4:30 when she got home, already ready to start her makeup to keep her distracted. Kira helped her do her hair nicely and put on minimal makeup, to highlight her best features. By 6, y/n was ready to get in the car, but the drive was only 15 minutes. Kira tried to distract her with finding things to fix, like an out of place hair, or too much highlight. At 6:30, she couldn’t distract her anymore and they got in the car. She drove slowly, constantly trying to hit red lights. Although, y/n had noticed, she pretended not, too.

Freaking out at 6:50, y/n got out of the car by the entrance. Looking at Kira who gave her a thumbs up, y/n walked in and to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I was told there was a note going to be left for me here?”

“Ahh, you must be y/n, yes?” The desk attendant said to me, smiling brightly.

“Yes, that is me!” I said, nervously.

“Here is the note, don’t be so nervous. I think you’ll like what is waiting for you!”

She looked at the note that looked the same as all the other ones. The note said:

Go to hotel room #33.

y/n double checked that Kira was still on the phone and went up the elevator to the correct floor. She walked up to the door, but was hesitant to knock. It took her a full minute and many deep breaths to finally knock. When the door opened, she gasped at what she saw.

“Stiles?” She asked incredulously.

“Hi, y/n. I was nervous you weren’t going to come.”

y/n looked down at her phone to see that Kira had already hung up, “I-I, the notes were you the whole time?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to do it. I was freaking out about the whole thing. I know things got messed up before and honestly, I don’t even know why. I didn’t want to mess up again, and I just thought this was the best way to get you to see that I was sorry.”

Y/n took a minute to look around the room. There were two queen beds, both covered in rose petals. There was a small, pink and red bag on one of them. There were actually rose petals everywhere. There were small candles lit all over the room, lights turned down. There was a bottle of champagne on ice and room service on a trolley that contained y/f/flowers in a beautiful vase. It was beautiful honestly, and clearly took a lot of thought.

“y/n?” Stiles started, as she had not said anything after his confession.

“I’m sorry, it’s- I mean this is beautiful. It’s amazing honestly. I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time y/n. And I don’t know how exactly we got all fucked up, but I was nervous and scared about what would come to us when school started. I’ve wanted to tell you everyday since that whatever was going on was stupid and that we should be together, but I never could get it out and I’m sorry.” Stiles was nervous, not sure y/n felt the same.

“I don’t know what happened either, if I’m being honest..I felt the same. Scared and nervous. I’ve literally made myself miserable everyday, knowing that I should have done something about what happened. I love you. I’m sorry too, that I didn’t do anything to fix whatever happened. I knew from the moment I met you, that we were meant to be more than just friends.”

Stiles couldn’t hold back after he heard y/n’s confession, his feelings had been overwhelming for so long. He walked closer to her, placed his hand on her face gently, and placed his lips on hers. At first, it was sweet and slow, but y/n moved her hands to the back of his head, pulling him closer. When they both ran out of breath, they pulled away smiling at each other.

“Can I ask you a question?” y/n spoke first.

“Of course, anything.” Stiles answered.

“Why are there two beds?” y/n wiggled her eyebrows.

Stiles face turned red and his hand went to rub his chin, “I well, I mean I didn’t want to-uh...I didn’t want to assume anything, I just, I didn’t want to mess anything else.”

“Well I don’t think we’ll be needing it.” y/n said and pulled Stiles back to her, placing her lips on his again.

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf #stiles stilinksi imagine

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shijiujun · 3 years

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Okay if y’all have read my top 2020 danmei list from a week or two back, you’ll know this is currently my favourite danmei (outside of Qi Wei Shang + 2ha hahaha), so here’s a proper, full rec!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

Ji Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Ji Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Ji Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him. Their relationship is pretty flirty and touchy right off the bat, with Ji Yan Ran knowing really clearly that he wants to take care of Yun Yi Feng. When Yun Yi Feng goes anywhere without a coat, JYR always has one ready. He promises all his riches to him, even his mother hahaha (but that’s because he knows he deceived YYF with the Blood Red Lingzhi and is willing to give YYF everything else while also continuing to look for the lingzhi for him).

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - Not Available | Novel Translations | Manhua

Characters:

1. 云倚风 Yun Yi Feng (right) - The revered Sect Master of Feng Yu Sect as his sect controls the flow and movement of information. People from all over buy information or hire the sect to help them get information, and is considered a neutral sect within the wuxia world. Very intelligent, a cool-headed strategist who also loves riches, whose eyes light up at the sight of treasures and money.

He was a child remnant of a war, and picked up by his shifu Gui Ci, who brought him to this island to live with other kids he picked up. His first few years were spent rather happily there, but then one day the man gave all the children bowls of what they thought was soup but ended up being poison because Gui Ci wanted to test out his new concoctions. At the end, only YYF survived after multiple ingestions of poisons and experimental cures. Because he was the ‘strongest’ out of all the other children, Gui Ci began testing out all sorts of poisons and cures on him after. If someone came to him after having been poisoned, Gui Ci would poison YYF in the same way as a test subject to use cures on, and only after they worked on YYF would he use them on the patient.

His shifu is considered a mad man, and the last straw was when he locked YYF up with several scorpions for a few days and YYF was the closest thing to death at that moment, and afterwards, realizing that he’d gone overboard, Gui Ci is more careful about poisoning him, allowing him to have a slightly more normal childhood, but because of this YYF’s body would flush hot and cold frequently and unbearably. He manages to escape from Gui Ci and sets up Feng Yu Sect.

He only has 5 years left to live if he doesn’t find the Blood Red Lingzhi, when he meets Ji Yan Ran and his request. After meeting JYR he realizes how sweet life is, to have someone who always thinks of him, who cares about his well-being, who wants to make him happy, who buys and gives him everything he wants. In the beginning he is unable to reciprocate knowing he’ll die soon, but they get together anyway after a close call, as JYR tries to find the Lingzhi for him.

He also loves to cook and play the zither, but is so bad at both!! He’s so terrible that every time he approaches the kitchen or the zither the servants themselves try to redirect him subtly and chase him away because they CANNOT stand his dishes or his music hahahaha.

2. 季燕然 Ji Yan Ran (left) - Army commander/general, and a prince. Close to the Emperor, who’s his older brother, and takes a liking to YYF the moment he meets him. He bluffs YYF, says that he has the Blood Red Lingzhi, and then realizing how much YYF needs it, he feels more guilty and guilty for lying to him, and once admitting it, he promises to do whatever it takes to find it for him.

He’s very smart as well, has eyes only for YYF and is willing to indulge him in every single whim he has. If YYF complains that he doesn’t have anything to wear (even in jest), JYR has the garment stores in the whole city send 10 outfits each for YYF to pick. And even though he hates YYF’s cooking and playing of the zither, he lets him do it anyway, fond but exasperated while everyone is staring daggers at him for not stopping YYF.

A few years ago, a close friend of his and the Emperor’s died, and JYR suspects that their father had something to do with it. It’s something that has been troubling him for many years and it’s a dilemma for him because he has to balance between questioning the Emperor but also trusting him and being a good brother/official to him, as clues keep pointing towards the Emperor and his father being involved in shady deals/decisions. His relationship with the Emperor, his brother, can be described as close, but of course even though they are close and trust each other to a good extent, there is still room for a tiny bit of doubt that both brothers are well aware of due to their positions, not that this affects their relationship.

Openly is affectionate to YYF in front of everyone, including his mother, who likes YYF alot as well. YYF once worried if the Emperor would oppose his relationship with him, but JYR said that their relationship should put the Emperor even more at ease, because the world and other officials would not recognize an Emperor who liked men and didn’t have any children, meaning that JYR becomes an even smaller threat to the throne.

3. 暮成雪 Mu Cheng Xue - An assassin who keeps popping up throughout the novel, and is a frenemy to YYF especially because he stole the cuteass snow leopard that was supposed to be YYF’s and refuses to return it. Not good nor bad, he does whatever he’s paid for.

4. 江凌飞 Jiang Ling Fei - JYR’s godbrother, who didn’t have a good childhood with no one to protect him in the Jiang family, one of the big wuxia families in the novel, as he had no parents and was technically brought up by his scheming uncles/cousins etc. He befriended JYR when they were younger and acknowledged JYR’s mother as his godmother because she was truly and genuinely good to him, and spends a large part of his days running in and out of the Jing manor. He’s JYR’s right hand man, but his dream is to be a bum wandering through different parts of the world, having fun whenever instead of being boggled down by duties to the Jiang family and other things.

Amazing Scenes:

YYF unceremoniously using JYR’s arm as a pillow while he’s talking

Basically YYF fainting and getting sick a lot and JYR always there to catch him ;-; To dote on him!!! Ahhhh my heart

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

The first time YYF plays the zither in the Jing manor, JYR’s mother, shaking, goes to JYR and asks, “Is Yun-er learning some evil cultivation music?”

YYF tends to go out to the markets and will buy back 2kg of flour for example, while all the servants shudder in the fear and cry in front of JYR, who can only sigh but indulge him

YYF’s favourite things include JYR’s mother taking his blankets out to soak up the sunlight in the day so he has fluffy, warmth-filled and fresh-smelling covers everyday to collapse into

JYR once asked YYF if it’s a good thing that he met him, and YYF says, “Of course it’s a good thing I met wangye, because of you, I now know that life can be sweet and warm too.”

YYF carves out what he thinks the Blood Red Lingzhi looks like based on some bogus description JYR gave him and because he’s so hopeful and happy about finally being able to have the lingzhi, he carves it out and wears it like a pendant, and everytime JYR sees it he wants to slap himself for being such a motherfucking asshole and deceiving this man

YYF keeps forgetting his cape/coat, so JYR always gives him his, but YYF keeps taking and not returning and on the fourth time it happens, YYF looks at JYR expectantly, and JYR says, “You’ve already taken three, this is my last one, I’m gonna freeze to death, left without a cape if I give you this one”

JYR always tempts YYF into doing things by giving him treasures, and jokingly promises YYF his army commander ring, which symbolizes his authority and power, and YYF unceremoniously takes it knowing what it is, and refuses to return it to him - After a few times this happens, JYR makes a replica of it so they matchy matchy ;-;

They travel South in a holiday for a few months after the first arc is wrapped up, knowing that YYF doesn’t have much time left to live, and every single day is painful for JYR as the time YYF spends conscious decreases day by day

YYF asks for some oil/salve to use as lube from the army camp’s physician, a night before JYR is due to go off for war, and the physician scolds the messenger for having the time to think about such thoughts, and when the messenger says it’s for YYF, physician is like “... oh. okay, here you go, give this to him” without another word HAHAHAHA

#a sword of frost #danmei #danmei recs #一剑霜寒 #min's why you should read #cnovel #i'm determined to complete 10 so bear with me yall!!!#hahahahhaa

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sunnyoldbear · 3 years

Text

Luca Headcanons Part 2

DoesLast one blew up and I was gonna wait to make another before making this one but then my Italian fish obsessed brain couldn’t stop thinking and I literally couldn’t stop myself so let’s go, part 2!

Luca:

Has nightmares of what would happen if things went differently: If he was sent to The Deep, if he and Alberto were outed as sea-monsters before the race, if Ercole, Cicco, and Guido didn’t miss Alberto when throwing the harpoons at the beach, if Alberto didn’t come with the umbrella during the race and he was outed in front of the town and hit with Ercole’s harpoon, etc. He always wakes up terrified.

Apologizes to inanimate objects if he bumps into them or drops them.

Names everything he comes in contact with. Random animals such as birds, insects (even though he’s terrified), erasers he uses often, etc. They’re always random, silly names, but he loves them.

Is a slow reader because of how he fantasizes himself in the books and daydreams, then is snapped back to reality.

Keeps a dream journal!

Loves making stories about the stars and constellations. He loves the original stories, but he loves to make up his own.

Honestly I just get the vibe that he’s scared of birds after the encounter with the seagull.

His favorite color is purple followed by green!

Giulia’s mom buys him his own bike and he loses his mind, loving it so much

He’s a bit awkward with making friends at school, sticking to Giulia’s side most of the time

He doesn’t really care for music

He can fall asleep anywhere, honestly. He once fell asleep leaning against the doorway and then crashed onto the floor

Alberto loves to doodle on his arms and hands and Luca doesn’t really care to wash them off so they just kinda chill there.

He’s very easy to prank and scare

Oh you should see him around the holidays! He’s so excited! His eyes sparkle and shine, he absolutely loves the decorations!

He’s not competitive, actually. He just wanted the prize money to get the Vespa, but he doesn’t really care about winning. He just... Isn’t competitive

He is very protective over his friends. Do what you want to him, but lay a hand on someone he loves and he will tear you a new one. We see him in the movie just frown when Ercole makes fun of him, but when Ercole shoved Alberto, all bets were off.

Charts the stars

He doesn’t have one love language, he has all of them, but probably Physical Touch and Quality Time more than anything, or Acts of Service.

Drinks expresso more often than he probably should, but just to get through his schoolwork

Misses his goatfish more than he wants to admit, especially little Giuseppe

Allergies beat him up during the spring

Slowly gets used to cats with Machiavelli’s kittens, but he’s still scared of the chunky boy

A teacher at school made the mistake of introducing him to Shakespeare. He spent hours sobbing over a good chunk of the plays.

Because he liked Shakespeare, Giulia’s mom got him some poetry books. He was not a fan of Edgar Allan Poe or Agatha Christie or Mary Shelley, all the horror/murder type stuff. He loved Emily Dickinson though!

Is as terrified of losing Alberto as Alberto is terrified of losing him

While he isn’t as touchy with Giulia as he is with Alberto, he does get more touchy with her

Reads tons of books about cats, dogs, and turtles to give Machiavelli, Nerone, and Caligola the care they need

Hears about human farms and loses his mind, rapidly asking questions about how they work and if they’re similar to his own

Giulia tries to convince him that fairytales are real. He has nightmares about them for a few nights until Massimo has to tell him that fairytales are made up and her mom changes them slightly to be more... Non-scary. She starts telling them to him to bed just because she misses doing so, and then he can’t fall asleep without someone telling him a story.

Doesn’t do the handshake with anyone that isn’t Alberto or Giulia.

Giulia’s mom calls him “fishy” or “guppy” and he wants to hate it but he can’t

Hates it when people call him cute or baby him, but his family + Alberto + Marcovaldos still do it

Once heard some French Tourists and stared at Giulia and went “why is their Italian so weird sounding” and she lost her shit laughing

Doesn’t swear, refuses to swear

Tries to use Vespa stamps if they’re available

Once he learns what “Piacere, gioralamo trombetta” means, he sends a letter to Alberto which is just him freaking out and laughing while making fun of it. They don’t stop saying it. In fact, they probably say it more.

He has a map in his room with pushpins of where he’s been. Beside it are a bunch of sticky notes of where he wants to go with Alberto with reasons on why he wants to go.

Has a little bit more courage, but not too much

He’s often teased for calling others “sir” or “ma’am” and so he feels really shy about it but doesn’t stop

Refuses to call Massimo and Giulia’s mom by their names, it just feels too awkward for him

Makes friendship bracelets for the trio as well as separate ones for him and Alberto, then him and Giulia.

While he loves gelato, he doesn’t like it as much as Alberto

I feel like he’d dot the i’s in Giulia’s name with hearts but no one else’s

People at school think he has a crush on her but he doesn’t

He and Alberto still say they sleep under the anchovies. No matter how often he researches stars, he’ll always call them anchovies around him.

Sticks out his tongue when focused

Doesn’t like aquariums, he stares at those fish and he just feels trapped

Loves to dance in the rain

Does that little feet tappy dance thing when he’s excited or shakes his hands

Honestly half of his vocabulary is stern shouts of “Alberto!” “Giulia!” or “silenzio Bruno, silenzio Bruno! Silenzio Bruno!”

Speaking of, he can’t just say “Silenzio Bruno” once, it’s always him saying it more than once, especially when he’s really scared

He doesn’t have loud, aggressive sneezes, but he does have sneeze fits. Once he sneezed so many times that with every one his face got closer to his desk until it just went BAM and he has a massive bruise on his forehead for days.

Sometimes just goes into the water and swims to relax. If he’s feeling homesick, he’ll do some daring trick and then instinctively turn to smile at Alberto only to realize he isn’t there

His dad still keeps crabs but lets Luca name them. Luca chooses to name them all after space things. Mainly moons, but sometimes planets or galaxies

Secretly feels really guilty about Alberto selling their Vespa

After almost being sent to The Deep, he is terrified of the dark and can’t sleep without a light on, no matter how dim it is

Alberto:

Matching pajamas with both Massimo and Giulia! (Refuses to match with her, Massimo yelled at them)

Tries to see what triggers his transformation. Does watermelon? Does juice? Is it any liquid? He’ll find out!

Calls Giulia “Spewlia” just to piss her off

Those two are always arguing. Yes, he often starts it

Lots of tattoos and ear piercings!

Will into Giulia’s room, stare her dead in the eyes, call her a bitch, and run out while leaving the door open. She’ll scream at him and probably throw something.

Tends to shorten people’s names. He calls Luca “Lu,” “Lulu,” and even “Luke.” Luca does not like any of these names.

Still builds his Vespas! They’re not as fun without Luca, though

Takes Giulia with him sometimes too and purposely crashes into the sea or something just to see what she does.

Gains quite a bit of muscle

Is the one who takes down all the sea monster things with Massimo. He and Lorenzo carry Smuca to the fountain

Idk I feel like he has loud sneezes

I also feel like he makes that weird cough face like that one cat idk I just know I’m right

He doesn’t just sing... He scream sings

Doesn’t know how to dance but if there is music he will dance

Loves dancing in the rain too!

Sometimes he’ll just walk into Giulia’s room and gossip with her. They’ll make a blanket fort and grab some snacks and cats and just... Spend the night talking and catching up

She teaches him how to braid hair and now he just loves doing her hair

Bites his lip quite a bit. That’s canon but like, still worth mentioning

Learns how to ride a bike so he doesn’t get killed or something

Keeps a journal on things Luca and Giulia are interested in so he can learn about them. He writes down bullet points on what he remembers from conversations, but it’s honestly not much

He doesn’t have big dreams other than traveling the world with Luca. He knows Giulia wants to be a marine biologist and Luca wants to travel the world + is still figuring things out. He has short term goals other than that and changes the topic about it.

A popular headcanon is that Alberto takes care of the goatfish when Luca’s at school and I think that would happen!

He’s shockingly good with kids! When not working, he loves playing soccer with them by the fountain

He almost named Machiavelli’s mate “Frog” because he can’t name things

Half the time when Giulia and/or Luca talk about school, he goes “I don’t what that means, but I’m choosing to define it as ____” and won’t let them prove him wrong

Technically canon but he will bite. Chomp chomp.

When he meets Giulia’s mom, they love to paint together

He does make some friends in Portorosso, but none are as close to him as his sister and best friend!

This man is the most dramatic person good lord

Love language is definitely physical touch!

Still screams “Take me, gravity!” pretty often

Can’t do work alone without music. He doesn’t really like opera but he can’t stand silence, he just can’t

Sometimes he thinks of Luca’s betrayal and is really angry, but knows he’d probably do the same if the roles were reversed. It was about self preservation and the risk of living. He still gets upset about it sometimes, but completely forgives him and understands

Is always torn between giving Giulia genuine facts about sea creatures and giving her such absurd but lowkey believable lies. He wants her to succeed so badly but also wants to screw her over

If you give him anything, he will play with it. String? A toy. A pen? A toy. A literal rock you found on the side of the road? A gorgeous toy, thank you!

Never just goes into the water, he will always be dramatic and dive in or jump

Sometimes when not on duty, he just blows his lifeguard whistle because he thinks it’s cool

He loves yoyos!

Will noogie Giulia.

Sometimes gets scared that Massimo will abandon him, but it seems like Massimo always knows

Città Vuota is his favorite song!

Doodles all over everything, especially Giulia and Luca’s arms and legs. They range from little stars to tic tac toe games to fish to anything that comes to mind

Giulia:

Is very much into photography! Luca always does hearts with his hands/fingers while Alberto does stupid poses or flips her off... or both.

Hums and sings a lot!

Also loves to dance and is the best of the trio! Loves to twirl and vibe even if there’s no music! It’s just her personality

She doesn’t just hug, she jumps into their arms and holds them close

Sometimes just to annoy Alberto she’ll hug him and press kisses to his head and cheeks. Siblings gonna be annoying.

Always has so much energy but really struggles with sitting still for homework after such long hours in school that her grades aren’t all that good except for Astronomy!

The most competitive of the trio

Bites her lip when she’s nervous

Started wearing her hat to match her dad when she was little and now she doesn’t like being without it

Has probably fallen asleep in class

Loves watermelon and gelato

While Ciccio and Guido apologize for their actions, she doesn’t forgive them and doesn’t want to. She has every right to

Gets really into singing when she’s singing along to songs

Doesn’t like makeup for herself but will hold the boys captive to do their makeup

Loves puns! Will make sea puns to piss off Alberto and Luca, but Luca loves them so it half-works

Loves copying Alberto’s lipbite

Machiavelli her beloved <3

Loves her fam so much! She’s got pictures of them everywhere and is constantly buying them gifts

Speaking of! Her love language is giving gifts!

She’s actually pretty good at making friends since she can read people so well. It’s just that Portorosso doesn’t have any.... Great kids to befriend and Genova just has too many that she sticks to a small group which eventually fades, as groups do

She isn’t the most emotional but she also isn’t the least emotional. She doesn’t cry often but she does get sad and shows it

I don’t know why I feel this way but I definitely think she’s scared of the doctor

She used to be scared of thunderstorms until meeting her boys and the race happened. Now she associates rain and storms with that win

Summer is her favorite season

She knows everyone in Portorosso by name and knows most of their birthdays by heart

Speaking of, she always celebrates Alberto’s birthday like her like her life depends on it

Now loves racing on her bike even more cause of the race

Calls Alberto “Berto” and is the only one allowed to do say

A very light sleeper

---

More on the way probably they’re all I think about

#luca movie #Luca #pixar luca #luca pixar #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #massimo marcovaldo #giulia's mom #death tw #maybe? just in case

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johnsamericano · 3 years

Text

“Corruption. Epilogue.” w.y.h

A/n: I APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. I hope you'll still enjoy it, thank you for reading.

warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talking, corruption kink per usual, lingerie, that’s it.

corruption m.list.

“Mommy, where’s Mr. bear?” You closed the zipper of your suitcase, placing it on the floor and extending your hand towards your baby boy.

“Daddy already put it in the car, let’s go, he must be waiting for us.”

Your husband was leaning against the car, a pair of sunglasses hanging from the neck of his sweater. You gave it to him a few days ago, it matched with the one you and your son were wearing.

“Youngho, guess who’s coming with us?”

“Mr. bear?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Better.” He opened the door of the car, revealing your best friend, a big smile on his face.

“Uncle lele!” His little legs ran towards the vehicle, Chenle taking him into a bear hug as soon as he was close enough.

“Let me help you with this.” Your husband approached you, taking the suitcase from your hands to load it into the trunk. “I’m kinda nervous, I feel like your parents still don’t like me.”

“My mom likes you.” You giggled, hugging his waist tightly. “My dad still thinks you’re the teacher who seduced his little girl. And I mean, you kinda did.”

“But we’ve been married for more than two years, he should’ve warmed up to me at this point.” He whined desperately.

“Well, I mean, he appreciates you more ever since Youngho came around.”

“Are you suggesting that we need another baby for your father to like me? Cause I’m in.”

“Am I going to have a little sister?” Youngho’s small head peeked through the door as well as Chenle’s.

“Congrats you guys.”

“No! We’re not having another kid, I haven’t recovered from the last one.”

“But I want a daughter.” Lucas complained. “Imagine how cute Youngho would look as a big brother.”

“I’ll get you a female dog and that’s my final offer.”

“Declined. I’m sure I’ll convince you, my baby girl will be here in no time.” He said as you walked to your seats, closing the doors and putting your seatbelts on.

“There’s no guarantee that the baby will be a girl.” He started the engine, taking a look at the backseats to make sure Youngho was on his car seat.

“Even if it’s a boy, I’ll love him with all my heart. Just like I love that little monster in the back.”

“Aw, thanks dude.” Chenle answered.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

The trip continued between constant bickering from your husband and Chenle along giggles from your son.

“Alright, we’re here.” Lucas parked the car, turning to look at you with a nervous smile.

“Don’t worry, as I said, at least my mom likes you.” After unbuckling your seatbelts, you both exited the vehicle, opening the backseat doors to wake up the passengers.

Lucas gently picked up Youngho from his seat while you flicked Chenle in the forehead to wake him up.

“What is wrong with you?” He whined.

“Hurry up or I’ll lock you inside.”

Lucas waited in front of the door for you and Chenle to arrive, he was too scared to knock on the door himself.

Your mother received you all with a warm hug, specially Chenle, whom she had known from the moment he was born.

“You’re so big, Chenle. Come in, I baked your favorite cookies.” You scoffed at your mother’s behavior as she dragged him to the kitchen.

“Let’s go, my arms are feeling numb.”

You entered first at Lucas’ request, the smell of your favorite dishes making you smile. Your father was chopping some vegetables while your mother stuffed Chenle’s mouth with food.

“My baby girl is home.” Your father smiled widely before running to you and taking you into a bone crushing hug. “You should move here, we miss you.” He kissed your temple.

“Hello sir.” Your husband saluted politely, bowing slightly while he held your son tightly.

“Hello Yukhei.”

“Why are you two so tense?” Your mother, as laid-back as ever, continued. “Give each other a hug, come on, give me the kid.” She took her grandson from Lucas’ arms. “Go on.”

They awkwardly wrapped their arms around each other, the sudden sound of a camera taking a picture causing them to separate.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” You giggled, looking at the picture in your phone. “This is going straight to our family album.”

“Y/n.” They both whined at the same time.

“Wait, am I in that family album?” Chenle asked, mouth full of cookies.

“Mayhaps.”

“Show me.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, you two, stop it. You seriously are like brother and sister.” Your mother spoke a bit too loud, causing your son to wake up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his small hands.

“Daddy?” Lucas noticed and immediately took him back into his arms.

“I’m here, kiddo.”

“Can we get Mr. Bear?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

You all stayed silent as he walked out, your mother finally speaking as you heard the sound of the door closing.

“He’s a great father, y/n.” You smiled to yourself, heart full of pride. “And You should stop intimidating him.” She pointed at your father.

“I am not intimidating him. I’m just making sure my little girl is with the best man.”

“That’s sweet dad, but we’ve been together for a long time. Hell, we even have a kid.” You dad huffed.

“Fine, I’ll try to be nice.”

Meanwhile, Lucas was searching for the teddy bear in the trunk while Youngho sat on the edge of it, his short legs dangling.

“You Wanna know what I asked Santa for this year?”

“I know. An iron man suit, a pet dinosaur and a little sister.” Of course, you were only able to get one out of three, despite Lucas insisting you could get him a sister too.

“I secretly asked him for one more thing.” He signaled Lucas to come closer. “I asked him for mommy and you to be together forever.” Lucas couldn’t help but smile at his son, taking him into his arms once he found the stuffed animal.

“That’s a very sweet petition, I bet Santa will make it come true.” He left small pecks all over his face.

“Stop!” He demanded between giggles.

“Why? You don’t like my kisses?” He teased, leaving a big smooch on his cheek. “Too bad, I’ll give you as much kisses and hugs as I can before you become an unbearable teenager.”

“I don’t ever want you to stop hugging me.”

“Why are you guys leaving me out? I want hugs and kisses too.” You came out of your house, jogging towards the two loves of your life. Your son grabbed your cheeks with his tiny hands to peck your nose.

“Give her one too, daddy.” Lucas leaned down to press his lips against your forehead. “On the lips, daddy!” Your son’s sudden demand had you blushing like crazy.

Lucas smiled while grabbing your chin to connect your lips.

“Alright, let’s go back in before your grandma starts yelling at us for not helping with dinner.”

(...)

“Oh my god, Chenle is that you? You look like a cocky rich kid.” Lucas laughed hysterically as he looked at a picture of you two as kids.

Everyone was dressed in the Christmas onesies your mom bought, you and her had a thing for matching outfits. Lucas looked adorable in it, the rain deer patterns making him look even more child-like than usual. Chenle, on the other side, looked like an elf.

“I look amazing, shut up.” He replied when you made a comment on his looks.

“Hey Chenle, why didn’t you spend Christmas Eve with your parents?” Your father asked.

“They went to China to visit my grandparents, but I had too much work here to go with them.” He looked a little down, but his frown was quickly replaced with a bright smile as your son sat on his lap to hug him tightly.

“Don’t worry, uncle lele. We can be your family too.”

Your mom entered the living room with her hands full of sweet treats.

“What are we gonna watch?” It was a family tradition to watch a holiday themed movie on Christmas Eve.

“Elf?” Your father proposed and everyone agreed.

You sat on the large couch, Youngho sitting between you and Lucas as you cuddled him. Chenle sat on the floor while your parents on a small couch.

Right after the movie ended, everyone went to their respective rooms. Chenle and Youngho decided they wanted to have a slumber party, so you and Lucas had the room for yourselves.

“You look cute.” You smiled, lacing your fingers behind his neck as you tiptoed to kiss those addicting plump lips. He placed his hands below your thighs to lift you up, smiling against your lips.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You are literally the definition of cute.”

“Am I now?”

“Yes you are.” He kept smiling, suddenly starting to dance with you between his arms. “I love you so much that the mere thought of being apart from you again makes me want to jump off a building.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” You finally asked the question you’d been keeping for yourself for a few days. “Are you okay, Xuxi? I mean, ever since you came back you haven’t seen your family and maybe you’re feeling bad, so please know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“But I am with my family.” He didn’t miss the family that rejected him after choosing to give up the company. “You, Youngho, Chenle and your parents are my family, even though your father still doesn’t completely approve of me.”

“Are you sure?” You placed your hands on his cheeks, still uneasy.

“Positive.”

He kept holding you in his arms for a while more, simply staring into your dreamy eyes.

“Well, it’s past midnight so technically it’s Christmas already.” You got down on your feet. “Do you want your present now?”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it under the tree?” He tilted his head, oblivious to the true meaning of your words.

Your hands hesitantly reached for the front zipper of your onesie, slowly opening it to reveal a white lacy lingerie set.

“I know it’s not my style but I thought you’d like it.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly, standing there while he eyed you. “What do you think?”

“That we are gonna have to be extremely quiet to not raise suspicions.” He helped you out of the comfortable outfit, slightly raising your arms to take a better look at you. “My lord, we’ve done this so many times and you still blush?” You looked away.

“Don’t mock me!”

“I love that about you.” He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. “You’re just as innocent as the first time I made you mine.”

“I am not.”

“Really?” He rubbed a finger over your clothed heat, causing you to gasp. “Your cheeks look like the red lights in the Christmas tree.”

“X-xuxi.” You held onto his arms as he continued to pleasure you. “I was supposed to make you feel good, not the other way around.”

“But I like to make you feel good.” He slipped a hand into your underwear. “Shaved? Wow this must be a really special occasion.” He enjoyed the soft texture of your lips, tracing random patterns over the warm skin. “Let’s lay you down, hm?” You nodded, letting him carry you to the king size mattress.

He started to strip in front of you. Once the only piece of clothing left on his body was his underwear, he crawled up the bed.

“I love you so much.” His fingers started caressing you inner thigh, slowly creeping up until one of them hooked around your underwear, pulling it down.

He placed his hands behind your back, raising your torso to un clasp your bra. He pulled away the slightest to admire your naked figure, his eyes stopping at the scar crossing your belly. A product of Youngho’s birth.

“Is it ugly?” You asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Of course not, baby.” He kissed your cheek tenderly. “Every single part of you is beautiful.”

Before you even had the chance to be embarrassed, one of his fingers was already moving in and out of you. You shut your eyes tightly.

“I need to prepare you first, angel.” You were as sensitive as ever, his long finger reaching for all the right spots. “Look at me when I’m touching you.” His harsh tone only added to your arousal. “That’s a good girl.” He cooed as soon as your big doe eyes met his.

He retrieved his finger as soon as he felt your walls convulsing around it, earning a small whine from you. He chuckled while taking his underwear off, proceeding to sit against the headboard with you over his lap.

“Don’t look so scared, this isn’t the first time we’ve done it.” Lucas smiled at your expression, eyes glued to his inflamed erection.

“Yes, but it still hurts when...you know.” Even after all those years you had a hard time dirty talking, and Lucas found it adorable.

“I’ll make sure you’re well prepared so it doesn’t hurt.” He placed you right above his length, gripping your hips to move your body back and forward. “You make the prettiest noises I’ve ever heard.”

“Xuxi, I can’t hold it back for longer.” You whimpered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Because you’re a good girl, right?”

“Yes.” Your nails started digging crescent moons into his back, trying your best to contain your orgasm.

“Lift your hips for me, princess.” With wobbly legs, you did your best to keep your body up while he aligned himself with your entrance. “Hold onto my shoulders.”

You did as he said, slowly letting him sink into you.

“It hurts.” His heart ached with your words.

“I know baby, just hang in there.” He hugged you, feeling like the first time you had sex. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

It took a while for you to get used to the stretch since it had been a while since the last time you had sex, but the pleasant feeling of being full soon replaced the uncomfortable burning.

“I’m ready, Xuxi.” He helped you bounce up and down his length, soft groans escaping his plump lips.

They looked so tempting, you couldn’t help but kiss them. He grinned into the kiss.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmured, cheeks completely red.

“You’re pretty too.” He kissed your temple, thrusting up. “My pretty little girl.” You couldn’t keep moving up and down, so you allowed yourself to take a rest. “Such a good girl.”

“Xuxi.” You tried your best to hold back the moans forming at the back of your throat. “Can I...?”

“Let go, sweetheart. I’m here.” Your body shook uncontrollably as pleasure took over every inch of it. You bit Lucas’ shoulder to avoid screaming from the intensity of your high.

Lucas came with your walls deliciously clenching around him. Thick ribbons of white cum painting your core as you both tried to regulate your breathing.

“You did so well.” He pecked your sweaty forehead. “Now let’s clean our little mess.”

(...)

The next morning, your son bursted into your room, waking you both up while screaming ‘it’s Christmas.’

“Come on, I want to open my presents.” He jumped into the bed and tried to lift your body.

“Come here, Youngho. Let mommy rest for a little longer.” Lucas took him between his arms, tucking him inside the comforter. His hair was a mess, the strands pointing to opposite directions as he tried to open his swollen eyes.

“But the presents.” He whined.

You hugged the little boy from behind, pecking his silky hair.

“Come on, I’m not tired. Let’s go open your gifts.” He squeaked exitedly while getting on his feet.

The three of you walked to the living room holding hands. Your parents and Chenle patiently waited for you to arrive.

“This little monster woke me up at like 5:00 a.m.” Chenle scoffed, causing Youngho to giggle.

“Sorry, uncle lele.” He let go of your hands, running to the tree to find his gifts. “There’s one for mommy.” He handed you a big box with your name written on it. “And one for daddy.” He kept putting aside his own gifts and handing everyone else theirs.

Everyone ended up with at least three gifts, even Lucas, who didn’t expect to get anything from your parents.

“You go first, honey.” Your son started ripping the Christmas paper to uncover his gifts.

“An Ironman suit!” He gratefully received all of his gifts, even the hideous sweater his grandma knitted for him. “Thank you, nana!”

Your heart filled with pride for having raised such a beautiful child. After Youngho was done, you all opened your presents at the same time. You asked Lucas to save yours for the last.

“Oh my god, Xuxi.” You covered your mouth at your recently opened present.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it, I can get you something else later.”

“I love it!” You couldn’t help but cry.

“Won’t you show it to us?” Chenle asked, trying to take a look at the contents of your box.

You pulled out a cement board with both your husband’s and your son’s hand printed on it. There was also an album below it.

“There’s more?”

“Just open it.” Everyone gathered around you, even Youngho sat on your lap, curious to see what the album had inside.

It took you a while to figure out what was on the first pages of it.

“Are these my college exams?” He nodded. “How did you...?”

“I found them in a box with all my teacher stuff, now keep going.” You passed the pages with nostalgia, meeting with memories from your past.

The album was filled with photos and significant documents of your life together, from the ticket of the takeout You had on your first date to a picture of you holding Youngho for the first time.

“Wait, that’s me!” Youngho pointed at the small baby between your arms.

“Yes, that’s you, sweetie.” You kissed his cheek while he kept turning the pages of your album. “Thank you, Xuxi. I love it.” He smiled widely. “Now you open mine.” You turned to face him with your son still on your lap.

He pulled out a smaller box, containing a pair of wireless earbuds he’d been ranting about for the past few months.

“Oh my god!” He smiled widely, his big hand covering his mouth. “I love them, thank you.” He gave you a big hug.

“There’s more.” You winked at your mom while he looked for his other gift. “Don’t judge, my mom taught me how to do it through facetime.”

“A pair of socks?” He stared at them, his gaze going back and forth from Youngho to the yellow, knitted baby socks. “They’re adorable, sweetie, but I don’t think they’ll fit him.”

“We’ll, thank goodness they’re not for him.” It took a while for his brain to process the whole situation, but when he finally figured it out, he let out the loudest scream you’d ever heard.

“We’re having a baby!” Everyone in the room covered their ears, except for your little boy, who joined his screaming.

“Am I having the baby sister I asked for?”

“Yes you are!” He lifted Youngho, smiling ear to ear with him.

“It’s the best Christmas ever!”

It was, indeed, the best Christmas ever.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #wayv #wayv smut #wayv x reader #nct lucas #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv lucas

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

the much anticipated second part for the amnesia-related fic.

A wedding ring.

This doesn’t mean that he and Tony are married except that he hasn’t seen Tony with a wedding ring and he hasn’t mentioned a wife and he doesn’t sound like he has a wife and if Rhodey-if Jim had a wife, then wouldn’t he know about her? Wouldn’t they have met by now? He may not know Tony yet, but he doesn’t think that he would be that cruel.

“Colonel Rhodes-”

“Friday, don’t,” Jim says, swatting at the air. “What-why did you hide that from me?”

“Sir believed it would be best,” Friday answers, tone almost quieter. “He...wasn’t sure that you would understand.”

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why would I marry him of all people? He’s not exactly my type.”

“Since I am a learning program, I cannot say for sure. Humans do a lot of illogical things.”

He’s trying to wrap his head around it and avoid Tony at the same time.

Friday won’t let him see any wedding pictures, not until he remembers more.

Even though he’s been (mostly) successful at avoiding Tony for about a week and a half, the man is still so nice.

He’s still operating under the assumption that Jim has no idea that they’re married, and he does stuff like leave out a cup of coffee and offer breakfast up or ask if he wants pizza for dinner.

Jim reads too much into it.

And he doesn’t know why, because it’s not like anything has really changed, except for the fact that Tony won’t call him Rhodey.

Jim gave him permission to, saw how much it killed him with every correction and every reminder. Told him “you can call me Rhodey, if you want.”

And he doesn’t.

Tony never does.

He still almost says it, but Jim is quicker on the tongue, and he doesn’t make a move to try to push any memories at all.

(Even though he remembers how happy Tony was to hear that memory about grocery shopping and Dum-E’s code source.)

He does want to remember. He wants to remember why he apparently married Tony and was genuine about it, why Pepper and him are best friends and never were anything more, why he’s...why he’s so different from what he wanted.

Tony knows that Jim’s acting differently. He’s not sure why. He’s not sure he wants to know why, because that might complicate everything.

And he doesn’t want another thing to be wrong. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him except for the one damn person that probably should be, but Rhodey’s never been good at following rules. (But he’s good at fooling people.)

Pepper talks to Tony a lot. Asks him how he’s doing, if there’s anything she can do.

Repair someone’s memory is a little bit outside of her area of expertise.

“It’ll be okay,” she says, putting her tiny hand over his. “Things will work out.”

They both know that in Tony’s life, luck has never been quite what it seems. Or existent at all, at times.

Ironically, it’s their anniversary of the wedding when Jim remembers something else. It actually comes in the form of looking in the fridge and not finding his apples.

“Quit leaving honey-crisp off of the list just because you don’t like them you asshole,” he calls to Tony.

Tony almost yelps.

“Out of everything in your life and that’s what you remember? Your stupidly sweet apples?”

“Are you gonna get them?”

“Why don’t you come with me?” Tony asks, “just so that you can get your apples and maybe get out of the house for once.”

“Hmph. Fine,” Jim answers. “Where’s my coat?”

“Uh...” Tony trails off, trying to find the words. “Third peg on the...right, I think?”

“You’ve known me for years, and you don’t know where my coat is?”

Rhodey is always the one to hang up his coat, and then put his arms out for Tony’s.

“To be fair, I am important and fancy and a big deal,” Tony scoffs. “Come on, go get your coat and then I’m going to show you what horrible things you buy from the store.”

“It’s not that bad. And what, you don’t like good apples?”

“As sour as can be, sourpatch. As sour as can be.”

Grocery shopping with Tony is...interesting. He didn’t think it would take so long.

“This is why you don’t usually come,” Tony teases him. “I take so long and you end up sitting in the car and cursing at Pepper or Happy about how much time I spend dedicated to snack-judging.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You do,” Tony says, grabbing the cart. “Because you love me and you deal with a lot worse from me.”

“Like what?”

“Best not to talk about it,” Tony says. “We’re in public after all, honey.”

“Ugh, boo,” Rhodey teases. “Give me the list. I bet I can speed-run this.”

“How? Technically, you don’t think you’ve ever been to this store before!” Tony exclaims with a gigantic, shit-eating grin.

“Way to rub it in you bastard,” he says with a laugh. “Now come on, I wanna see what kind of salad you think we’re gonna get.”

“Not you thinking you’re going to be eating junk food,” Tony sighs.

“I lost my memory!”

“That would’ve worked, like, two weeks ago. Now I know better.”

Grocery shopping is...fun. They make fun of foods and different products, and Tony shows him which things he might like.

“I like...I like fruit salad?”

“Yes, yes you do Rhodey-dear,” Tony says. “Your favorite thing in the world for fruit.”

“Seems suspicious.”

“You’ll have to try it again, then.”

Rhodey watches him as they’re shopping. He’s easy to be around, honestly. He has that sort of energy that makes you feel like he’s just happy to be in that moment.

Tony also has very questionable taste in everything.

“Quinoa?”

“What? You’ve eaten it before! It’s not your least favorite thing that I’ve cooked?”

“How is it not? Is it because I’m old?”

“No, not because you’re old,” Tony scowls. “When you’d come back from the service, you’d eat literally anything I put in front of you. I once gave you a block of cheese and you just sat there. Eating it.”

“There’s no way I did that.”

“You did! Ask Pepper, she has a picture of it!”

He goes back to quiet after that, remembering the picture.

Jim isn’t even sure he wants to bring it up. He’s not even sure if he could love Tony again, and somehow that thought makes his head hurt.

He knows that apparently, he fell in love once.

So he needs answers.

Jim had talked to his parents, but he hadn’t really had an opportunity to talk about anything important. Try as he had to get more information out of them, they weren’t giving much up, except for parts about his military achievements and funny stories that he’s written to them about.

When he gets back home and he sees Mama, she knows.

“Come here baby,” she says, putting him into her arms. “Let me answer your questions.”

“Why him?”

Mama laughs, grinning up at him from her place on the couch.

“You reacted like this when you first started rooming together, too. I was worried that I’d be involved in a court case for attempted murder!”

“And you weren’t?”

“No,” Mama answers. “Instead, I get no phone call from you for three weeks, until the day before your holiday break started, and you told me that you were bringing who you used to call ‘the biggest nuisance since fruit flies’ home to Thanksgiving.”

“Why did I...why did I bring him?”

“I didn’t get that answered until he fell asleep,” she says. “I’m making you some coffee, alright dear?”

“Okay, so long as I get an answer.”

“So impatient,” she mutters as she makes her way to the kitchen, Jim following.

He watches how easily his mom pours the coffee, and remembers in a brief flash that Tony always would bring the fancy, flavored creamer to the holiday events.

“Oh come on,” Tony said. “You have gotten too used to my kindness, and there’s no reason to stop being kind. Besides, remember last year when you nearly cried because I bought creamer from the store? Yeah, not having a repeat of that.”

“And would that be so bad?” he teased Tony, wrapping an arm around his waist, and-

He blinks.

That was...that was definitely a new kind of memory.

“James, are you alright?” His mother is looking at him, and maybe she knows, maybe she doesn’t know that he just remembered something. He’s honestly not sure.

“Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m good.”

Mama looks across the room, smiling.

“He was a timid little thing when he got here. Fixed up the washing machine when it broke, just in time. Nearly wore a suit to dinner, said you didn’t tell him what kind of ‘casual’ we were going for...”

He snorts as he slowly remembers that one.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean a suit?!” Tony had wailed, gripping Rhodey’s shirt. “You said I had to dress nice!”

“I meant literally anything but your Black Sabbath shirt!”

“Why would I have worn my Black Sabbath shirt? Your mom would probably think I was a Satanist!”

They both look at each other for a moment, and Rhodey’s the first one to break and laugh.

“Listen you idiot, it won’t be so bad. We can just ditch the coat, ditch the tie, and you’ll be...okay. A bit nicer than most of us, but hey. That’s what I get for not telling you that suits are weird.”

“Suits are not weird, you’re just uneducated in what is sophisticated,” Tony says, turning his nose up as Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, sure, because knowing which one is the dessert spoon is going to help me save people abroad. My bad.”

Tony looks back at him, and his heart skips a beat. It does. Really, it does.

It almost feels like someone’s reading back to him what he already knows at this point.

His mom squeezes his hand, smiling.

“You remember at least some of it, don’t you?”

“Well...uh, yeah? I-I do.”

“Does Tony know that you know that you’re...married?”

“No,” Rhodey says. “I know some, but not enough.”

“Give him a chance,” she says. “And get back home, I’m sure he’s missing you.”

Rhodey embraces his mother, and prepares for the drive home.

Being missed is a weird concept to deal with.

He also did not exactly think of that. So he’s currently driving back and checked his phone to seven missed calls from Tony, three from Pepper, and one text from Happy that simply reads “lol ur dead hahaha good luckkkkk”

Well shit.

Tony, understandably is pissed and scared and a tad upset.

Not a tad.

“Where were you?” He says as soon as Rhodey appears back in the kitchen. Tony’s hands wander close, and he almost leans in.

Almost.

“I was visiting my parents,” he responds. “Sorry, forgot to text.”

“Please remember next time, your-well, Tony’s annoying when you leave,” Pepper says.

(Okay Rhodey doesn’t know how they got away with this for so long, it’s really, really obvious that they’ve been covering it up.)

“I will,” Rhodey says. “Did I miss anything?”

“I’ve elected that we’re going to cook tonight,” Tony declares. “I am absolutely sick to death of takeout, and I’m pretty sure that with your lack of knowledge on recipes now, I have you beat in the kitchen.”

“I can still read recipes, you dumbass. Besides, I just remembered your stupid ‘bake’ hack for your stupid casserole dish, so...”

“Out of everything, and that’s the thing you remember today?!”

“Well, I also remembered that apparently you wore a suit to my house for Thanksgiving!”

Tony stops.

“What else you remember from that, or was it just that?”

He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Pepper, doesn’t want to say anything just yet.

“I remember that you were weird about your suit!”

Tony deflates a bit, but still smiles.

God, he looks gorgeous.

Rhodey blinks. Shakes his head out of the thought.

“So. What are we cooking?”

Tony and cooking is a very interesting concept because it shouldn’t work.

He never stops moving, can lose interest quickly, and Rhodey would think that he could burn water.

But he doesn’t. Tony hums along to music, and he tells him all about his favorite songs and why.

It’s not any rock music, any heavy metal.

“I don’t listen to that all the time,” Tony says. “You always think I do!”

“Oh right, because someone who personally has Angus Young’s number just casually isn’t someone who listens to the band all the time, sure,” Rhodey says sarcastically.

Tony grins, and it’s probably the best damned thing he’s seen all day.

His heart zings at the realization that Tony smiling is what makes him smile now, what makes him want to stay and learn so much more about how they came to be, what they’ve done together.

Dinner is fun. Tony tells him all about college and what they used to do, and what Rhodey had done.

Memories are coming back easier.

“You totally emailed the professor really petty responses!” Tony cries, laughing.

“It wasn’t that petty,” Rhodey said, huffing. “He was an asshole anyway, he hated whenever we would come late because we wanted coffee, and your order was too complicated!”

“It wasn’t that complicated!”

“Oh I’m sorry, them having it written down behind the register for when you come in?”

“Oh, like they didn’t have a description of you.”

“Yeah, as your long-suffering companion,” Rhodey teases.

“You’ve always been,” Tony says. “Because you’re the best.”

Rhodey stops stirring the pot for a moment.

“Rhodey? What is it?”

“I...”

Tony stands there, grinning. He’s nervously fidgeting, and it’s his move to say the vows.

“You know, I wasn’t ever sure you’d be up to marrying someone like me,” Tony confesses. “Especially since I almost burned down our dorm room one time.”

“Wasn’t just one time,” Rhodey teases. “But carry on.”

“You loser,” Tony says. “Even now, interrupting my heartfelt moment.”

There’s a ripple of laughter from the small crowd that’s gathered. Rhodey smiles at him, feels tears prick up around his eyes.

“But I knew that I loved you ever since you would always buy my favorite ramen even though you hated it, and you were the one to get the pizza when I was sad. I knew I wanted the chance of seeing you every day, coming home to you at the end of the day. You’re home, Rhodey. You’re it. No one else could ever possibly hold a candle compared to you.”

Rhodey startles, looking at Tony.

“I...I remember. I remember!”

“Remember what?” Tony asks cautiously.

(He can’t be let down. Not again.)

“You smashed cake in my face at our wedding!” Rhodey yells. “And we got married! We got married! Where the fuck is my ring?”

Tony laughs, scooping Rhodey into a hug.

“I can’t believe you remember.”

“Well I was bound to at some point,” Rhodey says. “I can be smart, doofus.”

“Don’t call me ‘doofus’ during an emotional outburst you absolute nimrod!”

“I’ll call my husband whatever I want,” he teases, “although I still wanna know where my ring is.”

“Come with me and get it,” Tony says. “I hid them in my room, just in case.”

It’s all coming back, the steps they take, the way that Tony supports him as he moves slower.

Iron Man, for one. War Machine the next. The dates they went on, the proposal.

The rings are simple. They’re also not wedding rings.

The class rings.

Rhodey remembers getting them, remembers getting his initials and Tony’s on the inside, remembers how Tony made some “adjustments” after they received them.

“You know that you got me,” Tony had told him.

It slides on, and it feels right. Feels like something was missing.

He looks up at Tony, smiling.

“Show me the pictures, Tony.”

Pepper walks in to find Rhodey absolutely terrorizing Tony about the decor choices from the reception.

“So I agreed with red and gold? I had no problem with it?”

“Well, I did do some major convincing, so...”

“What does that mean?!”

"You’ll remember later and be sad,” Pepper says. “Or happy. But please don’t tell me if you remember it.”

“You loved the color scheme,” Tony says. “Because you love me!”

“Now I am doubting,” Rhodey declares. “I loved you enough to have those colors?”

“You lost a bet, Boss,” Friday interjects. “That’s why there were those themes.”

“Friday,” Tony whines. “Why snitch on your creator like this?”

“I am not programmed to have loyalty, Sir.”

Rhodey laughs, taking Tony’s hand in his.

“Well, I guess I’ll still love you. Even if our wedding theme was weird.”

“It wasn’t that weird!”

It takes about another month before all of the memories are all back to normal, and in that time Rhodey learns (and relearns) a couple of things:

1.) The best feeling in the world is waking up to Tony, who sleeps very lightly and also wacked Rhodey in the face a total of ten times. (That’s not a new thing, he remembers.)

2.) He special-orders peppermint-flavored coffee creamer.

3.) Tony was lying when he said that Rhodey’s new favorite movie was The Goonies.

(He mostly forgave him for that one.)

#lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #part two!#rhodey has amnesia #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #also yes the use of 'jim' in the beginning and then transitioning to rhodey a bit is intentional #sorry if it is a bit confusing but i like how i formatted that one so that's what we're getting with this one #i hope you all like it!

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agentsoftie · 3 years

Text

mistletoe

summary: you like him, a lot. so penny does something. something that may or may not involve mistletoe

a/n: it’s vlogmas y’all! also just act like this was uploaded on the 1st instead of the second. also, this love isn’t proof read so bare with me

pairing and word count: spencer x (f) reader & 1.6k

The day was December 1st, and in the paradise that is Virginia, that meant Holiday season. The lights were already up. And the cold air was picking up so much that one couldn't possibly go outside without wearing a coat, fearing for hyperthermia. Carolers were out around the town, singing their hearts out and freezing their hands off. Pictures With Santa was being set up in the park, and elves were practicing their dances and jingles. You could smell the cookies and the peppermint from a mile away. Christmas songs and melodies were playing all across town. And in response, all the hungover college kids were groaning and sulking all across town as they got their morning coffee and went to class.

Each radio was playing some form of holiday music instead of its general hillbilly religious crap. And you honestly didn't mind. Although, it's not like you ever bothered to turn on the radio. But today, something was different. Something had just changed. Maybe it was the fact that it was now the time for laughter and joy instead of harm. Maybe that was the change.

The cold air suddenly leaves your ears as the feeling of warmth rushes in. And to your surprise, you're greeted by a very peppy Lenny. Although, you did bring him a donut this morning, so that might have an effect. “Y/N! Good Morning!” He said as he buzzed you in. “You too Len! Hope you like the snack.” Before you could finish the question, he was half way done with his donuts. You smiled to yourself as you entered the elevator.

“Wait!” You heard someone yell as you were about to hit the button. You waited, as one does, and soon saw the figure that was running towards you clear up. “Spencer,” you breathed out as he ran in. “Y/n, hi.” He said as he was catching his breath.

You hit the button and quickly looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible. You see, you loved him. Ever since the dawn of time. Or, at least since last December. See, today, technically marks your one year anniversary since you joined the team. See, the first time you first laid eyes on him, the first time you said hello, your heart skipped a beat. The way he moved, the way he talked, just him. Him- himself, was memorizing enough. Never though. Never did you have the courage to talk or say anything to him. The team always noticed, but they never said anything, saying as you got along with them all great.

As soon as the elevator opened you ran for the two glass doors… As subtly as possible. The office smelt like peppermint and hot chocolate, and there was only one possible reason for that. Penelope.

“Good morning my lovely little love birds!”

You both stopped in your steps and looked at each other dead in the eye. “You guys, I’m joking, come on.” You both chuckled awkwardly and he quickly sprinted to his desk as you but your coffee on your desk.

“Like what you’ve done with the place Nel. Quite nice if I say so.”

She set a stack of piles on the desk, and straightened your hair.“You better like it. I stayed till like 10 getting everything ready and paid Lenny 20 dollars to help me set up half of these things.”

“Sucks that it’s gonna be down by mid January.” You say as you take some files off.

“Ooooh, yeah no, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Hey Nel, these aren't files.” You say as you give her the file you were looking at and picked through the other ones. Just to find that they weren't files either.

“Oh! Look at that! I never even noticed,” she said as she straightened her pasture. Spencer looked over to see what the commotion was about, but you tried not to pay attention.

“Spencer, would you come here please!”

You looked at Penelope and cursed in every single language you knew, and that was including ALS. She was the only one at the BAU who knew about your crush on Spencer. Since she was the reason you ever even wanted, or considered joining the BAU.

He got up and walked to your desk as you tried to look busy.

“What’s up Pen?” He said as he put his hand on your desk.

“I need you and Y/N to do something for me.” You looked shocked, but luckily, Spencer didn't see anything. “Can you please go down and do a few errands for me. Or well, for us.”

“Will we get paid?” You asked, she nonned.

“Is Hotch okay with this?” He asked, she, again, nodded. “Alright then, just text us what you need.” He said as he grabbed your hand and walked towards the door. You quickly grabbed your phone and wallet and pulled yourself forward. Your cheeks were rosy red. Or, as red as they could be, so you kept your head high. Although that probably doesn't work in your favor when you will be stuck with him the entire day.

“Okay, first of all, fresh roses.”

“Oooh, I know a great little flower shop. It’s by the bakery near Santa’s Little Shop.”

“Where?”

“It’s by my house here I’ll-”

“Got it.” He said as he cut you off. You wanted to ask him how he knew where you lived, but then you figured that before you came, he went over you and your file like 50 times. Or with him, most likely one.”

You looked out the window as snow fell down to the ground. It was a light snow, nothing big, nothing new. It was the type of snow where you could build a snowman, but it might take an eternity. He drove slowly and carefully turning on the radio to find The Beatles playing.

“Here we go.” He said as Blackbird was dying down in the background.

“Perfect.”

You both got out of the car and looked around. Some things just never change. Even when you’re off of work.

“Hi! Welcome!”

“Hey Blair! Where are all or your red, white, and green flowers?”

“That’s… oddly specific.” She spoke as she got up from behind the counter.

“Work.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say… Well okay, here we have our roses, a staple piece. Then, some white roses, another staple piece. And Finally, green roses!”

You smiled a little. It was small, but she saw it. “I think Y/N’s looking for something more festive? Like… these poinsettia’s!” Spencer said as he walked around the store/

“I’ll take the roses, all three colors, and the poinsettia’s please.”

She rang up the total and you were gonna give her your credit card, but he beat you too it.”Spence…” You trailed “Y/N don't.”

You grabbed the flowers and so did he. He opened the car and as soon as you got it, the conversation picked up once more. “You know, you never had to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“Okay well so did I.”

“Well I did it first.”

“What are you, five?”

“Is that supposed to mean something Y/N?” He said as he looked over at you.

“Ehh ehh, eyes the road!” You said as you snapped at the road.

He simply laughed as he looked back. “Okay, Now the coffee shop. She said that we need fresh treats since some of the kids are coming over tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” You asked as you looked around at the white ground. This was the first time in a while, or maybe in forever that you were having a normal and fluent conversation with him. It’s always, “Hi Spencer *runs away” or “Hey, *dies inside*” BUt this, this was different. This was fun. This was something you could get used to.

“Remember the office party.”

“Fuck… Yeah I forgot.”

“Ehh don't worry, so did I. But I think I’m just gonna stay home and re-read something.”

“Weirdo,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair and messed it up. Somehow, just somehow, your heart wasn't beating 20 times fast almost causing you to fall dead on the spot. But instead you were just having fun and laughing. With Spencer. Spencer Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid. Someone you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“Do you like the Holidays?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it was the only holiday that I looked forward to when I was a child. Still now too I guess. Which is highly concerning, but we’re not gonna talk about that.”

He chuckled. “You’re funny Y/N,”

“I know.” You said as you smirked.

You looked around at everything that was going on. Kids running around and people drinking hot chocolate. Other people watching the carolers sing, and others kissing under the mistletoe. One person though couldn't stop staring. They couldn't stop staring at you. They looked at your magnificent hair and melted. They looked into your eyes and watched them shine. And heard a baby laugh for the first time every time you talked or laughed.

“What about you Spence?”

“Huh?”

“You like the holidays?”

“Yeah,”

“Well, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like the holidays?”

“Because of mistletoe,”

“Because of what?”

You were cut off by his hand cuffing your face. I took you a moment to realize what was happening, but once you did, you melted in. You put your hands in his hair and pulled a little. The kiss was aggressive for a public kiss but you soon eased it up due to the fact that this was happening in public. You broke apart due to the fact that breathing exists. And smiled into each other's lips.

“I said… because of mistletoe.”

“Screw you Spencer Reid.”

“You wish.”

“Really, cuz that didn't look like it.”

“You kissed back.”

“By default,”

tagging; @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, @ghostly-angelic, @himarisolace

moot tags: (sorry if this annoys you) @blakeprentiss, @lizziechase, @goldenxreid

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #reader x spencer reid #mgg x reader #christmas fluff #Criminal Minds #mgg #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #spencer reid #i like this one #yeah #i spent like 3 hours on it #so dont let it flop #vlogmas #yeah yall #mira writes

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

An Unforgettable Halloween | Luke Patterson

Requested by anon: hiiiii! can i do a jatp luke x reader imagine where it’s halloween and reader runs into Luke and they spend the whole day making Luke forget he’s dead? thanks! <3 love your writing by the way

A/N: Thank you for this request, anon! I really enjoyed writing it! I hope you like it!! Idk why I always need to have the reader and Luke/Charlie singing together, but here ya go anyway. The song used is Favorite Place by All Time Low. :)

Pairing: Luke x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 4,447

Halloween. It’s never been my favorite holiday. My poor, feeble heart can’t handle all the scares and creepy stuff. And besides, it’s over commercialized, in my opinion. Capitalism just needed another reason to exploit a holiday. My best friend, Ava, tells me I hate the holiday because it reminds me of two years ago when a Halloween party traumatized me for the rest of my life. “Just because Brent made that day terrible, doesn’t mean the day will forever be terrible, Y/N,” she’d always say. Though that might be true, I still like to believe that’s not the only reason why I hate the holiday. “Just come with me to the party tonight, and you’ll see it’s not as bad as you think it is!” We’re on FaceTime while I’m doing homework and she’s trying to figure out what to wear to the annual Halloween party at Charlotte the popular girl’s house. Another reason to hate the holiday. Charlotte Parks is the typical popular girl trope in this story. Pretty, popular with the guys, a cheerleader. The cliché. “I don’t think I’m gonna do that, Av,” I say whilst tucking my pencil behind my ear and staring down the phone in front of me, balancing against my backpack on the end of my bed. “You know Charlotte and I don’t mix well together.” That’s true. Charlotte has always despised me, God knows why. For some reason unknown to me, she always has to find a way to ruin my life. “Her house is so big, you won’t even see her!” Ava reasons from her walk-in closet before walking back onto the screen, another dress in her hand. This one is a black bodycon number with a white collar at the top and fringes at the sleeves. “How about this one?” “That’s very Wednesday Adams!” I exclaim with a wide smile on my face, to which I receive a very impressed nod from my best friend. “You know Bobbi’s coming tonight, Av. Can’t cancel on her!” Roberta’s my cousin of 13, and she’s one of my best friends, no matter how lame that sounds. We’ve always been pretty good pals, since we’re the only girls in the family. We kind of had to stick together against the testosterone of our other cousins. She’s not actually coming tonight, but I needed a good excuse to get out of this party. “Take her with you!” she yells both excited and kind of desperate at the same time. “Ooh! How about I wear my pleather pants with, like, a black body and cat ears?!” She disappears into the wardrobe again. “She’s 13, Av! I’m not going to take her to a high school party!” I yell back whilst shaking my head in disappointment. “Wear whatever you want, Ava. I’m sure you’ll look amazing.” She appears into the picture again, her pleather pants halfway her butt and her bra on show. “Hey, is that my bra?!” I recognize that black lace with the gold detailing down the bust anywhere and I’ve lost that bra three weeks ago. “What? No! This is mine!” she says, but I can tell she’s lying. “You are unbelievable, Av!” I shake my head, grinning at my best friend. “I’m gonna have to go though. Send me a snap of your outfit once you’ve chosen!” She nods her head in response, walking up closer to her phone, which she had balanced somewhere on her drawers. “I really can’t convince you to come?” Her expression has suddenly turned serious. She really is bummed I don’t want to come out, but I don’t care. I can’t care. This is for my own good. At least then, I don’t have to see Charlotte. Or Brent. “I’m really sorry, Ava.... Maybe next year, yeah?” She sighs mournfully before nodding her head. “Have fun, okay? And be careful!” A smile appears on her face again. “I will, babes. Have fun with Bobbi!” She offers me a wave, which I return before yelling ‘bye’ and pressing the red button on my phone screen. Lying to my best friend is not my favorite thing to do, but she wouldn’t shut up when she found out what I’m actually gonna be doing. With a sharp exhale, I crawl off my bed and head downstairs where my parents are getting ready for their little get-together with their friends. Dad’s dressed in a pin-stripe suit, a fake mustache stuck on his upper lip and his hair gelled back tightly whilst mom’s wearing a black dress with a deeply cut V-neck and a large slit down the side. Gomez and Morticia Addams. Very spooky. “Don’t you two look dashing,” I compliment, watching them from the middle of the stairs, sitting down. Mom shoots me a kind smile as she fixes her slick hair. “What are you gonna do tonight, sweetie?” Dad asks, tightening his tie. “Probably gonna go get some food and watch some movies,” I shrug, placing my head in my hand, my elbow resting on my knee. “You know, the use.” Dad exhales sharply, smiling sympathetically. “Don’t give me that look, dad.” “I’m sorry, sweets. But I just wish you would act like a seventeen-year-old instead of an eighty year old.” I scoff at his statement. We had this discussion last year too. Both of them know what happened and why it’s so hard for me to enjoy this day. But they still give me shit for it. “I’m gonna have plenty of fun by myself. Even more so than if I did go to the stupid party,” I reason with him. He raises his hands in defeat before turning to his wife. “Just make sure the kids get their candies, yeah?” mom says instead, climbing a couple of stairs to press a kiss to my head. “I love you,” she whispers and heads down again. “Love you too. Have fun, guys.” Dad comes up to kiss me too before heading to the door with mom. With his hand on the doorknob, he looks back at me. “You know we only want you to be happy, right?” he says. I nod my head, offering him a smile. “I love you, sweets.” He walks out and shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone in the empty house. I sigh deeply before heading down and grabbing my Vans. Once they’re on my feet, I grab my wallet and exit the house. The cool October air hits my sweater-clad arms, sending a chill down my spine. As my feet tread down the pavement, my mind wanders to this day two years ago. Around this time, everything seemed normal. I was happy and excited to get to the Charlotte Parks Halloween extravaganza with my boyfriend Brent. We’d picked out a great couples’ costume. He was a wolf, and I was dressed as Red Riding Hood. I’d even taken the liberty to go all out with makeup and put a slash near my eye as though I’d been attacked by the wolf. Ava was a fan of that costume, more than Brent was. But when we neared the end of the night, everything crumbled down into shreds of sadness and anger. The residue of that anger wells up again until it’s knocked out of me when I bump into someone, making me stumble backwards. I would’ve fallen on my ass if it wasn’t for the hands capturing my arms to keep me from doing so. “I am so sorry, I--” I stop in my tracks as I look up into the gorgeous green eyes that belong to the attractive brunette that saved me from landing on the cold pavement. “A-are you okay?” he asks, letting go of me. “I--wait…” He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “You can see me? And you can touch me?” That’s the weirdest question I’d ever gotten. My eyebrows knit together now too, trying to figure out what’s happening and why this boy is so confused about our entire interaction. “Uhm, yeah? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with people?” “No. I mean -- yeah, but I’m not a person, technically,” he replies in a mumble. He cautiously looks up at me again. “I’m a ghost, actually.” I let the words sizzle through my brain until it decides to send me into a fit of laughter. “Right, yeah, it’s Halloween. Ghosts. I get it. Good one,” I say between laughs, patting the boy’s shoulder, which only sends him to more confusion. To be fair, he doesn’t feel like a normal person. His arms don’t feel like they’re made of flesh and blood, but rather something light and airy. He gapes at me with this inquisitive look on his face, which calms down the laughter abruptly. “You’re not really a ghost, are you?” I ask, just to be certain. “I am, actually…” he mutters and jams his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. “Me and my bandmates died in 1995 and this girl, Julie, brought us back as ghosts… She’s the only one who could see us… Until now,” he looks up at me with hope and confusion written all over his face. “But she can’t touch us… Are you sure you’re not dead either?” I snort at his last question. “Kinda wish I was today,” I blurt out. My eyes widen after the words left my mouth. “That sounds way too dark…” I chuckle, and the boy does too, but I think it’s more out of awkwardness than finding it funny. “Are you okay?” he asks. At first, I think about answering it superficially, but there’s this look on his face that makes me want to spill all the beans. He, too, seems lonely and distraught on this Halloween night. “I’m not actually,” I glance down at my feet, finding his feet are clad in the same shoes. I then let my eyes glide from his shoes all the way up to his face. He’s urging me to continue by tilting his head a little, shooting me a questioning glance. “Halloween isn’t my favorite holiday…” I clarify. The boy nods his head understandingly. “That explains the lack of costume,” he says, which makes me glance down at my doodled-on mom jeans and oversized sweater before chuckling. “You don’t do the dressing up either? Or is that not something ghosts do?” I query, pointing at his ensemble. He’s wearing black jeans with a shirt and long-lined jean jacket. “I mean, it’s not like anyone would see,” he jokingly says, which lets a giggle escape from my mouth. His smile widens upon hearing this ridiculous sound coming from me. “Where were you going so determinedly before I smashed into you?” he asks after a few beats of silence. “Oh, I was getting some food from the place on the end of our street. They got pretty decent sushi, and since I’m home alone tonight, I thought, why the heck not treat myself, right?” I curse at myself for sharing this much with a complete stranger, who is a ghost, nonetheless, but the chuckle that reaches my ears comforts me a little. “No parties to go to? Back in my day, Halloween parties were always the best.” I feel the smile on my face fade away at the reminder of the Halloween party I’m not attending tonight. “Yeah, no… I haven’t gone to any Halloween party in two years… Like I said, Halloween isn’t my favorite holiday.” He offers me a sympathetic smile. A silence then falls over us as we stand in the middle of the street, looking at each other, debating what to say. “So… I’m gonna go and get my sushi. Uhm… Sorry for bumping into you,” I apologize and lift a foot to start walking away, but his voice stops me. “Would you mind if I tagged along?” he asks, which renders me surprised. “I don’t eat, so you don’t have to buy me sushi, but I think I could use some company tonight… If you don’t mind, of course.” His eyes are filled with hope, and some sort of desire to hang out with someone other than those bandmates he was talking about. “Uhm, no… Yeah, sure. You can tag along. It might be a nice change from that lonely Halloween I always have,” I chuckle, and he does too. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” I say as he turns and falls into step with me. “Luke,” he introduces himself with a smile. “Why don’t you go to Halloween parties, Y/N?” I inhale sharply at this question. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask too much about it. But I guess I can never get out of that question anymore. Halloween is a big holiday around here. “Two years ago, I went to one with my boyfriend. It’s the party where I found out he was cheating on me with the one girl who always had it out for me.” It rolls off my lips with ease. Normally, I’d choke or start bawling my eyes out. But Luke’s aura is so calming and reassuring that I can’t help but feel okay telling the story. “I haven’t been able to go back since, much to my best friend’s dismay.” I roll my eyes amusedly thinking about Ava and her desperate attempts to get me to go each year. “That sucks, I’m sorry,” he says as we enter the sushi place. “You better grab your phone now if you wanna talk to me. People tend to give weird looks at people talking to themselves.” I get my phone from my back pocket and pretend to dial a number before pressing it to my ear, glancing up at Luke with a smile on my face. “Hey, how you doing?” I say into the phone, which makes Luke giggle. “Just know that your ex-boyfriend’s stupid for ever cheating on you,” he tells me before looking down at his feet. “I would never wanna hurt someone as pretty as you.” I can feel a blush creeping its way onto my cheeks, but decide to conceal it by jokingly saying, “Aw, you think I’m pretty.” He rolls his eyes, an amused smile on his face. “Next!” the guy from the sushi place yells. “Oh, hold on,” I say into my phone before placing it on the counter and facing the employer. “Uhm, the Halloween surprise box, please,” I order politely. The man nods curtly before getting into action. I grab my phone again and press it to my ear to continue talking to Luke while we make our way to a couple of chairs and tables set up for waiting customers. I let my eyes wander around the room. It’s decorated to the max with spiders in spiderwebs, pumpkins, skeletons, ghosts,... The lot. Then, my eyes fall onto Luke. He’s glancing around the place, letting his eyes wander until they find their way back to me. A shimmer appears in them when he finds me already looking at him. “So, you said you were in a band?” I ask, pretending to talk to the person on the other side of the line. “Oh, yeah! Me and three of my best friends were in this band called Sunset Curve. Three of us died on the night we were supposed to play the Orpheum,” he explains, and my eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets upon hearing the name of the venue. “The Orpheum?! You’re kidding, right?” He shakes his head, smirking. “You would’ve been legends.” The words come out in a whisper, hoping it wouldn’t upset him too much. “Yea, we would’ve been,” he sighs, then suddenly perks up again like an excited puppy, “But the girl I told you about, Julie? She can make us visible whenever we play with her! We’re now a band with her called Julie and The Phantoms!” I giggle at his endearing enthusiasm. “We would’ve had a gig at this really cool party in the Bel Air, but Julie got sick and had to cancel.” My eyes widen upon the words ‘party’ and ‘Bel Air’. Charlotte Parks lives in Bel Air. “That would be the party I’m not going to tonight,” I tell him, chuckling. “So, we would’ve met tonight either way.” He adds with a cheeky smile, “Some would say it’s fate.” I shake my head at him, but can’t help the smile on my face either. I want to add something to debunk his theory, but my name is called out by the sushi guy. I get up and take the box of sushi from him, shooting him a quick thank you before leaving the joint with Luke in tow. “Where do you wanna go?” he asks, bouncing up and down. “Oh, I was planning on watching some movies at home, but if you have a better idea to spend tonight? Anything is better than going to that Halloween party.” He purses his lips in ponder, his eyes darting up to the night sky. “Ooh! There’s this park I like to hang out at sometimes?” I raise my eyebrows at his suggestion, popping a piece of sushi in my mouth. I’m way too hungry to wait until we sit down to eat. “You haunt children’s playgrounds?” I ask after having swallowed the seafood. His eyebrows knit together at this as he narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t haunt children’s playgrounds. I hang out at them,” he corrects me. “You’re a ghost, sweetie. That’s haunting.” “It’s not!” he shouts. “It is so!” I laugh loudly, throwing my head back. “You’re lucky the kids are all trick or treating tonight, so we can go there. Might be a little more secluded for me to talk freely to you without worrying people will think I’m crazy.” He nods his head agreeingly. Once at the park, we take a seat in the grass. I have my legs crossed whilst Luke’s are spread out, his hands supporting the rest of his body behind him. “So, what do you do in life, Y/N? You know, besides avoiding parties,” he asks with a little smile plastered on his face. I look at him for a moment, chewing my sushi. This gives me the time to really look at him. He has really great bone structure. Sharp jawline, chiseled cheekbones, fine nose, deep-set, dreamy eyes. “Eating sushi,” I reply jokingly after I’d swallowed the piece of deliciousness. Luke lets out a laugh too. “I’m still in school, so I’m spending most of my time studying. And I like to think I’m a pretty decent writer.” He stares at me, giving me his undivided attention with the cutest smile plastered on his face. “What do you write?” he asks curiously as I pop another sushi in my mouth. I lift my hand to my mouth, and reply, “Poems,” before continuing to chew quickly. “Kinda like songs, then?” I shrug my shoulders. “They could be, but I don’t play any instrument, so I haven’t tried,” I reply and place the half-eaten box of sushi to the side, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Do you write your own music?” He nods his head. “I wrote most of the songs in our band and now, I write with Julie for the new band,” he answers. As I’m thinking how much I’d like to hear him and his band play, he cuts those thoughts in two by asking, “Can I see your work?” I open my mouth, then close it. Then open again. I must look like a goldfish breathing. “I’ve never really shown anyone my work…” I trail off, debating whether or not I should show him. “Besides, my notebook is at home.” Luke suddenly gets up from the grass and reaches out his hand for me to take. I hesitate. Am I really going to take a complete stranger, a ghost, to my house to show my poetry, only to find out he hates it because it’s nothing like his songwriting? The answer is yes. I place my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet. Without letting go of my hand, he grabs the box of sushi and then guides me out of the park and lets me lead us towards my house. “Wait here,” I tell him as we’re in the foyer. He simply jams his hands into his pockets and nods his head curtly. I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and then go to grab my notebook from my room, quickly storming back downstairs where Luke’s still waiting. I make my way to the living room and sit down on the couch. The boy cautiously trails behind me, and only comes to sit down after I pat the spot beside me. “It’s not that great, but… You know, it’s fun to do and a great outlet for anything I may be feeling.” I hand him the notebook and let him flip through all the pages. He stops on a few, reading it a little more thoroughly. It’s building some suspense in me. What if he doesn’t even like them? What if he, a songwriter, hates them? “Ah! This one!” he exclaims, and suddenly, with a whoosh, there’s an acoustic guitar on his lap. “One of the perks of being a musician spirit,” he tells me with a grin before strumming the instrument a little. He abruptly stops, looks at the page in my notebook again, and then softly tickles the strings. A beautiful melody pours out of the instrument before his melodic voice joins in too with the words I wrote. “I saw your face in the fire again I touched the flames and burned down everything I hear the sirens west of 8th now” He looks at me with a questioning glance as if asking for encouragement of some sorts. I offer him a smile, unsure of anything else I could be doing right now. His voice has rendered me silent. I think I could listen to him sing for hours. “Wonder if you're hearin' them too And I know you don't belong Know you don't belong to anyone” He focuses on the instrument again, making sure he’s still playing the right chords. “No you can't be tamed love Maybe I was wrong Maybe I was wrong for this But you feel like the perfect escape now Just like the sun on my face” His voice grows a little stronger, almost sounding raspier and more like a growl as he looks up again. I always thought it’d be cliché to melt when an attractive boy sings to me, but it’s actually happening to me right now. “So can we close the space between us now It's the distance we don't need Yeah, you're everything I love about The things I hate in me So come on, come on, come over now and Fix me with your grace 'Cause I'm not too far and you're my favorite place” “You sing this last part,” he tells me, pushing the notebook towards me before going back to playing his guitar. “I can’t sing, Luke,” I tell him, slightly panicking. “Sure you can. I’ll sing along, don’t worry,” he offers me a reassuring smile before putting more power behind his strumming while also leaning closer toward me to read the words. “So come on, come on, come over now and Fix me with your grace 'Cause I'm not too far and you're my favorite place” He now quits playing, placing his hands flat on the strings, and for a while we just stare at each other in disbelief. Disbelief about the song we just made together. Disbelief about how beautiful a voice he has. Disbelief about how attractive he is. I cough, breaking the eye contact, “That’s a great song, Luke… You can have it if you want,” I offer with a smile to try and hide the blush from heating up my cheeks. “No, Y/N, I couldn’t. That’s yours. Those are your words. Your words made this a great song.” “They’re just words without a melody,” I mutter, folding the edges of the paper nervously. “A song is quite boring without words though, isn’t it?” For some reason, I’m starting to think all of this could be a metaphor for us. Him being the melody and me being the words. I would be a plain and simple poem without him, and his life -- though I doubt it -- would be boring without me. “It would still be a song though,” I add, looking up at him again. One corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk, which makes me think he caught onto that metaphor I was thinking about. He suddenly grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. Before I can even register what’s happening, the front door suddenly opens, revealing a distraught-looking Ava. I let go of Luke’s hand and get up to help my best friend. “What’s wrong?” I ask her as she stumbles inside. I grab her just in time before she can hurt herself. She looks up at me, her makeup run out all the way to her chin and blood trickling down her nose, though I’m not sure if it’s real blood or part of her cat costume. “I punched Brent in the face and Charlotte punched me back,” she get out through sobs and hiccups. My eyes dart over to Luke, who’s watching this from the sofa. I almost forgot she can’t even see him. He offers me a small smile. “Why?” I ask and guide her to the couch. She nearly sits down on top of Luke, but I’m quick enough to guide her next to him while he vanishes. He pops back behind the couch, looking down at the drunk girl lying down on the sofa. “Because he was boasting about how he even managed to wrap the prude around his finger two years ago and got her to anything he wanted,” I swallow, remember those times people called me a prude because I covered up unlike girls like Charlotte who wore short skirts and plunging necklines. “I really don’t get what you saw in him, Y/N,” she mumbles while cuddling up to the pillow and letting her eyes flutter shut. “I hope you find someone that looks at you like I look at pizza.” I giggle at her drunken words before looking up at Luke to find him already looking at me. Kind of the same way Ava looks at pizza. A smile then finds its way to my face. Maybe Halloween isn’t as bad as I always thought it was.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

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0pretty-setters-squad0 · 3 years

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Toy Store- Tenya x Reader

Howdy- time for yet another Christmas smut. Hope you Tenya simps (definitely not me *cough cough*) enjoy. Iida rly deserves more love tbh. So I hope I make this a good one. In this, we're also gonna say that Tensei has a little boy (not just bc I love the thought of Tensei as a dad) bc why would Iida be in a toy store if he didn't have a kid to buy for lmfao

It was about two weeks before Christmas as you sat behind the counter of a toy store, giving a woman her bag full of toys after checking them out. As she left, you lean forward and rest your chin on your palm, propping yourself up. Only ten more minutes until you could close the store and go home to cuddle up and watch a movie.

And that's when he walked in for the first time. Young, around your age, very fit, neat hair, quite handsome if you had to say. You smiled at him, "Anything I can help you with today?" He seemed surprised that you were speaking to him, shaking his head and walking off to look at the toys. It wasn't until well past closing time that he left, because you couldn't bring yourself to kick him out when you saw him looking at the toys, clearly trying to find the perfect gift. When he left, though, he left empty handed. You shrugged and closed up the store, heading home. The next time you saw him was about three days later, around the same time. He did the same thing, came in, didn't ask for help, looked around and then left with nothing. He did this multiple times, always just looking and buying nothing. At some point, you began to find yourself looking forward to his visits, hoping that at some point, he'd talk to you. It was the day before Christmas Eve when something finally changed. This time, though, instead of walking off to look at the toys, he came to the counter where you were sitting. "Excuse me, ma'am," he politely spoke to get your attention. You looked up from the magazine you were reading and as you realized who it was, you smiled slightly, finding that he was just as polite as he had looked, "Yes?" "I'm trying to find a good toy for my nephew, he's two, and I've been looking, but I don't have any kids, so I've got no idea what to get him. And I've been here a bunch of times, but I just never know what to get," he began rambling and making awkward hand motions, which you found adorable After a moment, you cut him off, "Sure thing, I'll help you find the perfect toy. No wonder you came in here so often. You know, you coulda just asked me," you spoke kindly as you walked around the counter. He let out a relieved sigh as you offered to help, "You noticed that I had been coming in a lot?" he asked, seeming embarrassed. "Mhm," you nodded, "Sure have. It's not everyday that the same person comes in and leaves with nothing about a hundred times," you joked, "Not that I mind, I was just curious as to why you were coming." You could see a blush forming on his face, and decided to leave it alone. He really did seem embarrassed. So, you shut your mouth and lead him to where the appropriate aged toys would be. "Here we are," you smiled, starting to walk away. He stopped you by placing a hand on your shoulder, "Could you actually help me pick out one? I really don't know what to get," he sighed softly, as if he was upset for not knowing. "Sure," you nodded, "Um, well, what does your nephew like?" "He likes cars, trains and other things like that," he shrugged. "Alright, then why don't you get him this?" you picked up a toy truck that helped with learning colors. He smiled slightly and nodded, "Sure. Thank you for your help." You smiled back, "Of course, it was my pleasure." He then grabbed another toy, similar to the one you had picked, but this one helped with numbers. Then you both made your way to the cash register. After getting there, you checked him out and handed him his bag, "Have a nice day," you gave him a smile. He took the bag, returning the smile, "You too," he began to walk towards the door, but when he was halfway there, he stopped and turned around, walking back to the counter. You were confused, so you raised a brow, "Is there something else I can help you with?" you asked kindly. "Yeah, actually," he seemed nervous, "I didn't actually come all these times to find a good toy. I mean, the first time, that's why. I had trouble, but I didn't wanna ask for help and seem like I wasn't good with kids in front of such a beautiful woman. So, that day I left with no toy. The next time I showed up, I actually had done some research and decided on a toy to buy. The one you picked out, actually," he chuckled, "But I didn't buy it, because I thought you were really pretty, and if I bought it, I wouldn't have a reason to come and see you. So every time I came, I was just trying to work up the courage to talk to you." You found the way he rambled on adorable, smiling softly as he explained. As he called you beautiful and pretty, a blush formed on your cheeks. "Really? Y-you think I'm pretty?" you ask softly, your blush growing. "Of course I do," he nodded, "That's why I kept coming. And that's also why I didn't wanna seem like I knew nothing about kids, because I know that women find it attractive when a guy is good with babies, or at least I think they do. And I am good with babies, I swear, I just, I wasn't sure about a toy." "Well I'm glad you said something," you giggle, "Because I find you very handsome." He seemed surprised, "Oh, well uh, in that case, would you like to go out some time? I know it's around the holidays, so you're probably busy, but whenever you're free, I'd love to take you on a date," he gave you a smile that melted your heart. "I'd love to go out on a date with you...." you trailed off, realizing you didn't know his name. He chuckled, "Tenya, Tenya Iida." "Y/N L/N," you smiled and walked around the counter, "I actually have to lock up the store now, we technically closed like 15 minutes ago," you giggle softly. His eyes went wide, "Wait, do you close at this time everyday?" "Yep, sure do," you nodded. "Oh my god, I've been staying past closing this whole time? I'm so sorry." "It's fine, don't worry about it. I would've kicked you out if I didn't want you here. Anyways, after I close up, I'm completely free, so maybe if you're free, we could go out now," you suggest nervously. "That sounds great, I've got no place to be," he smiled and nodded. After getting your things and closing up, you met him outside. The two of you decided to just go and grab a coffee despite how late it was. After getting your coffee, the two of you decided to just walk around town for a while. It was pretty peaceful, and the lights hung up throughout the city for Christmas were beautiful. While walking, he nervously grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers. You didn't mind, you just smiled up at him. It was a little past 10:30 when you found yourself at your doorstep, Tenya's hand still in yours. "Well, I suppose this is where we part," he sighed softly. "I guess so," you also let out a sigh. You let go of his hand, the two of you facing each other, "So," you spoke awkwardly. "So," he repeated. After a moment of silence and just staring at each other, he cupped your cheek gently, "Can I kiss you, Y/N?" his voice was soft, clearly not wanting to make you feel pressured. You smiled slightly and placed your hands on his chest, "Only if I get to kiss you back," you giggle, ignoring how awkward you sounded. He chuckled and nodded, "Of course," he smiled before leaning in, connecting his lips with yours. You let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying how soft his lips felt against yours. After a moment, his hand dropped from your cheek and landed on your hip, both of his hands now resting on your hips, pulling you closer to him. The two of you only pulled away when you ran out of air, both of you panting softly, goofy smiles on your faces. "What a way to end the night," he grinned and gave you another soft peck. You thought for a second before speaking, "What if I don't want the night to end?" He chuckled, "Then it doesn't have to. To be honest, I don't want it to end, either." "Come inside?" you asked with a giggle. He nodded and gave you yet another quick kiss. The two of you made your way inside, slipping off your shoes and putting your things down before moving to the couch to get comfy. You turned on the TV, not really knowing what else to do. About half way through the movie, he scooted closer until the two of you were cuddled up together. You smiled as he held you close. By the end credits, you were sitting in his lap, facing him, face shoved into his neck, practically clinging onto him. He smiled and rubbed your back, "Yknow, Mj, you're adorable. Like the cutest woman I know." "You think so?" you smiled and let out a soft giggle. "I do think so," he nodded, "And you give very good hugs too," he gently kissed the side of your head, "And the way you cling onto me for cuddles is really cute too." "Aww, gosh. You're killing me with the compliments here." "There are worse ways to go," he chuckled. You lifted your head from his neck to look at him, just taking in his looks, "You're so handsome." He smiled and leaned in, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. After a moment, he pulled away. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips before connecting the two of you again, giving you a sweet yet passionate kiss. Of course, you kissed back, your hands moving to lace into his hair. His hands ran down your body to your hips, pulling you as close as he physically could. It was as if the two of you couldn't get enough of one another, only pulling away occasionally to take breaths. After a few minutes of this, you pulled away, both of you panting softly. Your hands made their way to the hem of his shirt, fingers running along the cloth. He seemed to get the hint after a moment. "Do you want me to take it off?" he asked softly, clearly not wanting to make you feel pressured at all. You simply nodded with a soft, "Please." He chuckled softly and let go of your hips to take his shirt off, tossing it over the back of the couch before placing his hands back where they were beforehand. As he exposed his torso, you would've sworn your jaw hit the floor as you drooled. In reality, there was no drool, but you wouldn't have been surprised if there was. "Wow," you smiled and let your hands run up and down his toned body, "Handsome, kind, and a nice body? What did I do to deserve you?" you joked and leaned in, kissing him softly. As you kissed him, your hands moved to grab his, leading them to the bottom of your shirt, hinting for him to take your shirt off as well. He smiled against your lips and pulled your shirt up, parting from your lips to pull it over your head. After taking your shirt off, he tossed it over the back of the couch with his own. His hands fell back to your hips once again before sliding up and down your sides. "You're absolutely gorgeous, love. So stunning," he spoke softly before leaning in and kissing along your jaw and neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow him more access. Your hands went back to his hair, running your fingers through the soft, dark strands. He smiled against your skin, whispering soft praises as he left a trail off kisses down your neck, to the top of your chest, along the top line of your bra. He let his eyes look up at you as he peppered your skin with kisses and spoke soft praises to you. Once he was happy with how many kisses he had given you, he smiled before speaking. "Can I leave any marks?" his voice was soft. The idea of him wanting to mark you made you smile, "Please do, I'd love that actually." He smirked slightly, leaning in to press a few more soft kisses to the top of your chest before sucking a soft mark at the end of one of your collar bones. You let out a contented sigh at the feeling of Iida marking you, your eyes fluttering closed. After he was pleased with the mark, he pulled back, letting his tongue peek out to lick it softly before kissing it. "W-Would you mind moving this to the bedroom?" your voice was soft, almost nervous of rejection. "Not at all," he smirked and kissed you, "Where's the bedroom?" he chuckled. "Down the hall, second door on the left," you instructed before kissing him again. He kissed back, standing and holding you against him. The way he carried you with ease wasn't exactly surprising, but it reminded you how much stronger he was than you, which sent a chill down your spine. After a moment, he pulled away so he could see what was in his way so he wouldn't manage to trip over anything as he carried you. He got you two to the bedroom without tripping over something and gently laid you down on the bed, hovering over you and giving you a quick kiss before speaking. "Are you sure you want this?" his voice was soft. It was clear that he wanted to make sure you were comfortable with everything before this went any further. "I'm sure, Tenya," you nodded, "I want you." That was all he needed to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his hands resting on the bed on either side of your head to support himself. As he kissed you, your hands slid down his torso, feeling the muscle just beneath his soft skin. He pulled back from the kiss after a moment, kissing down your neck, right to your chest. His lips made a trail between your breasts, his eyes never leaving your face. He left a few light marks as he kissed and nipped your skin before kissing his way back up. His hands found your hips and he looked toward your bra, "Can I take that off, darling?" he asked softly. "Of course," you smiled, arching your back off the bed to make it easier for him to access the bra clasp. He reached behind your back, unclipping your bra and sliding it off you. As your chest was revealed to him, he bit his lip, tossing the bra somewhere in the room. "You're perfect," he mumbled out, leaning down once more and letting his lips wrap around one of your nipples, one of his hands moving to the opposite breast, kneading it gently in his palm. Just like a moment ago, his eyes never left yours as he played with your chest. He continued to focus on your chest, switching between his mouth and hand, giving both breasts the same attention. After a few minutes of this, you couldn't take it anymore, the throbbing between your legs was getting to be too much. "Tenya, please, I need more," you pleaded quietly. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he smiled at you, a smile that was almost too innocent for the situation you were in. "I just want you, I don't care how," you let your hands move to run through his hair. His innocent smile turned into a smirk as he kissed his way down to your waistband, "Can I remove these?" he asked, his fingers slipping into the waistband. "Please do," you nodded, lifting your hips, trying to get him to take your pants off faster. In one swift movement, he had your pants and panties in a pile on the floor next to the bed. You hadn't been expecting him to take your panties off as well, and your legs automatically closed at the feeling of being exposed to him. He placed soft kisses on your thighs, gently pushing them apart, "It's okay, love, let me see you. You're gorgeous," his voice was genuine, not a trace of teasing. With the way he treated you, you couldn't help but listen, letting him spread your legs. His kisses moved to your inner thighs, kissing his way up to where he wanted to be. He looked up to you as he let his tongue lick a flat stripe from your entrance to your clit. As you felt his tongue, you let out a moan, one hand moving you lace into his hair. He smiled before letting his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently. While his mouth was busy playing with your clit, one of his hands moved between your legs, teasing your entrance with two fingers. Your hips rolled up, encouraging him to use push his fingers in. He seemed to understand what you wanted, and pushed his fingers in slowly, not wanting to go too fast and hurt you. "God, yes," you moaned softly, the hand that wasn't in his hair moving to join the first, giving his hair a gentle tug. He let out a quiet moan as you did so, which caused vibrations against your clit. Just as he moaned, he curled his fingers inside you, perfectly hitting your g-spot, causing you to let out a louder moan. A moment later, he began curling and uncurling his fingers at a fair pace, hitting your g-spot each and every time. It wasn't long before you felt a knot building up in your stomach. "T-Tenya, don't stop, I'm close, oh my god," you managed to say between moans. You let your head fall back, eyes closing as you focused on how good his mouth and fingers felt. He let out a soft hum to let you know he understood, and wasn't stopping anytime soon. He pushed his face farther between your thighs. Feeling your soft thighs on either side of his head had him going crazy, letting out soft moans against you. It only took a few more curls of his fingers and some of his moans to send you over the edge, moaning his name, your back arching off the bed, and your fingers tightening your grip on his hair. He smiled against you as you came, helping you come down from your high. After you had calmed down, you pushed his face back slightly, your clit feeling oversensitive. He pulled back as you pushed him, the lower half of his face wet with your arousal, his glasses crooked on his face. He gave you a charming smile before wiping his face with his hand and kissing his way up your body. He was painfully hard at this point, but his first priority was making you feel amazing. As he hovered over you, you smiled up at him and took his glasses off, setting them to the side. You then let your hands slide to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He didn't hesitate to kiss back, smiling against your lips. He pulled away a moment later. "I need you, Tenya," you said softly, biting your lip. He got off of you, standing next to the bed and slipping off his pants and boxer briefs at the same time. As he revealed his naked body to you, you realized he was definitely the biggest you've ever had, but with how aroused you were, it would be no problem. He was blushing as he spoke, "Do you have a condom by any chance? I don't usually carry one on me, because I never do this, really," he began to ramble awkwardly, which you found cute. You smiled and got off the bed, standing as well. You moved to stand in front of him, hands resting on his chest, "Tenya, calm down," you gave him a gentle kiss, "It's fine, I think I have one in my night table." You then walked to the night table, and just as you had thought, there was one in there. But, as you looked closer, you realized it was definitely gonna be too small for him. It was still in your drawer from your last long term relationship, and that was at least three years back, which meant it also may have been expired. You tossed the condom into the trash next to your bed, sighing, "Well, I guess I don't have a condom," you chuckled, going back to Iida, giving him a quick kiss, "What do you wanna do now?" If he was uncomfortable doing anything without a condom, you weren't going to push him, "If it makes a difference, I am on birth control, and I'm definitely clean." He smiled, "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?" he joked before giving you a soft kiss, walking you backwards towards the bed. Once you got settled on the bed, your head on the pillows, he hovered over you, leaning on his elbows for support, giving you a gentle kiss before shifting his weight onto one elbow. Using the arm that he wasn't leaning on, he reached between you two, lining his tip up with your entrance. "You ready, sweetheart?" he asked softly, wanting to make sure he wasn't pushing you at all. You nodded, "More than ready," your hands rested on his shoulders. That was all he needed to hear to push into you slowly, letting out a moan as he felt how tight you were around him. He stopped pushing forward once he was only about a quarter of the way in to let you adjust. As he pushed in, your earlier thought of him being the biggest you'd ever had was confirmed. Your grip on his shoulder tightened, and your mouth fell open to let out a moan, "Oh god." "Are you okay?" he asked softly, placing soft kisses on your neck to distract from the stretch you were feeling. "I'm great. Keep going," you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to continue. He nodded, pushing in farther, moaning as he did, but still kissing your neck gently. He went slowly, trying his best not to hurt you. After a moment, he was completely inside you, and you were both panting softly and letting out soft moans. He stayed still to let you adjust, moving his kisses from your neck to your lips. You kissed back, one of your hands sliding from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. You pulled back a second later, "You can move now. Please, baby," you said softly. He nodded, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in and letting out a moan of your name. He began to develop a steady pace, and with each thrust, he hit all the right places, making you let out moans and whimpers of his name and curses. Your hands slid down his back, nails gently digging into his skin. He didn't fail to notice you resisting the urge to scratch his back, and smiled. "Go ahead, darling, you can scratch me," he encouraged softly, panting. His lips found your neck and left a soft mark. You didn't hesitate after he spoke, letting your nails rake up his back, moaning. He also let out a low moan as you did so. "That's it. Good girl, just like that," he praised softly, moaning against your neck, "God, I'm getting close, sweetheart, I'm not going to last much longer." "Me neither, baby," you moaned out, "Fuck, fuck I'm gonna cum, Tenya. Don't stop." He nodded, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder. It only took a few more thrusts for you to clench around him, cumming with a loud moan, "Oh my god, Tenya," you left a few more scratches on his back without even realizing it. "Oh, I'm cumming, Y/N," he groaned against your skin as he came, filling you with his cum. After a moment, his hips stilled completely, "God, you're amazing," he gave your skin a few lazy kisses. "You are too, Tenya," your hands ran along his back, feeling the marks you had left there. He pulled out and flopped down next to you, pulling you into his side, smiling. Your head laid on his chest, "That was perfect," you said softly, still catching your breath. You happened to see the time displayed on your alarm clock on the bedside table and let out a soft giggle. The clock read 12:02, "Well, merry Christmas Eve, Tenya," you smiled up at him. "Merry Christmas Eve, Y/N," he chuckled. When his chuckles died down, he paused for a moment before speaking, "So, was this just a one time thing, or do you want us to be more than this?" he was scared that you would want it to be a one time thing. "Tenya, I really, really like you. Of course I want us to be more than this," you smiled, moving up so you could give him a quick kiss on the lips. He smiled and let out a happy sigh, "Good, I'm glad," he paused, "So, do you have any plans for Christmas Eve or Christmas?" You shook your head, "Nope, I don't have anywhere to be. I was planning on just watching Christmas movies all day in my pajamas." "Why don't you come with me for Christmas? I know that we literally just met, but I'd really like you to come. Plus, my family's been on my back to get a girlfriend for the past few years, and I most definitely want you to be my girlfriend," he chuckled, "Plus I wanna get to see you in cute Christmas pajamas," he joked. "I'd love to," you smiled, giving him another quick kiss, "But we should get some sleep now, or else we aren't gonna wanna get up in the morning," you giggle softly, laying back down on his chest. He let out a happy sigh and held you close, and that's how the two of you fell asleep. --- The next day, the two of you arrived at Tenya's parents, and you met the family. They all loved you, especially Tenya's nephew. He was practically glued to you at all times. You didn't mind though, you found it adorable. That evening, you all got Christmas pajamas, which you hadn't expected to get, but Tenya's mom still surprised you by having some for you. You thanked her and got changed. Tenya took his nephew into the other room to help him get changed, and change himself. He changed himself first, and when he took off his shirt, his nephew gasped. "Uncle Tenya, did you get a cat?" he asked, clearly excited. Tenya changed into the other shirt, now fully dressed in his pajamas, "No, why?" His nephew shrugged, "You have scratches all over your back, so I thought it might be from a cat." Iida laughed, helping his nephew to get changed before coming back out. Tenya sat on the couch, and you moved to sit on his lap. "Well, apparently I got a cat," he joked. You raised a brow, "Huh?" "I got called out for the scratches on my back, and apparently they're from a cat," he chuckled. You blushed, giggling softly before his nephew came over and plopped himself down on top of you and Tenya with a huge smile. He clung to you and you chuckled quietly, smiling at him. Tenya held you both with a warm smile, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek. The next morning, Iida's nephew opened the gifts you and Tenya had picked out and absolutely loved both of them. As you laid your head on Tenya's shoulder, you thought about how you could definitely get used to Christmases like this. Little did you know, Tenya was thinking the exact same thing as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

~fin~ And there we go- I know it's not Christmas anymore, but I still have a whole fuckin list, so I'm still gonna complete them hopefully lmao

#Tenya Iida #Iida #Tenya #xreader #Tenya x reader #iida x reader #Smut #Fluff

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notepadsandtealeaves · 2 years

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Tim Drake x GN!Reader in: So Kiss Me~, Pt. 4

12 Days of Batmas || Day 9—Kissing Under the Mistletoe

↞ previous: movie nights with the (bat)boys™ pt. 4 || watching holiday specials

|| ao3 version | 12 days m.list | batboys tag | main blog ||

|| dames day 9 | jay day 9 | tim day 9 || ((links pending))

…he’s not at all opposed to being caught under the sprig with you, tho there’s a good chance that he probably won’t notice it unless you or somebody else points it out.

Somewhere his brothers are making exaggerated kissing noises (and by ‘somewhere’ I mean literally right behind you).

Post’s title comes from this bop ((nobody look at me, I’m mentally regressing to a time before the shit show that is the 2020s lmao))

Headcanon || WC: 400~

🌟 Tim’s p. neutral on mistletoe.

It’s not that he doesn’t like having an excuse to kiss you, of course, but rather that he just doesn’t need one lol.

Not to mention the fact that it can lead to some awkward, potentially annoying encounters.

((i.e. that time him and Dick got caught under it together which led to his big brother chasing him around the Manor demanding his kiss lmao))

🌟 But this level of confidence and comfort are things that comes in time.

If you’re at the beginning stages of your relationship he’s still kinda awkward about touching you, but I went over all of that back in Day Two’s installment.

The short version is, he’s not super big on PDA for the first bit of your relationship. He’s still settling into things, still trying to make that transition from friends to lovers, and figure out boundaries.

Though he knows that he loves to be close to you, he quickly finds that more overt displays of his desire make him kinda uncomfy when done in public. He doesn’t mind holding your hand/hugging you and the like, and he may even press a chaste kiss to your forehead or cheek from time to time (and also your hands/wrists because yes, pls, that’s so cute/sweet!!), anything beyond that is generally a no-go.

While he’s not as private a person as Dames, he still likes to keep his personal life out of the public’s eye—a hard feat, that, when he’s such a notable figure, and that’s saying nothing of the internet’s fascination with him.

((because you just know that the man is prime meme material; his socials are a gold mine for relatable quotes and pics, and that’s saying nothing of the candids that people frequently snap of him around town lol))

Notoriety isn’t really something that he can ever hope to escape—and unfortunately neither can you, if you’re gonna be with him—so the best he really can do is not give the paps too much fodder.

🌟 That said, he’s much looser about these things when he’s around his inner circle.

Now he’s not about to have a full blown makeout session in front of his family and friends, but he’s certainly a lot more cuddly and affectionate than he would ever dare to be in public.

And he’s not at all opposed to being caught under the sprig with you, tho there’s a good chance that he probably won’t notice it unless you or somebody else points it out.

Tho he may be a bit hesitant at first, when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close that’ll all fade away the moment he presses his lips against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

🌟 Up Next: Day Ten || Holiday Party ((check back tomorrow!!))

Taglist is open, but to 18+ users only.

#((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))#tim drake x reader #tim drake x gender neutral reader #tim drake x gn!reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake headcanon #tim drake hc #tim drake fluff

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lingthusiasm · 4 years

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Transcript Episode 49: How translators approach a text

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 49: How translators approach a text. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 49 show notes page.

[Music]

Lauren: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Lauren Gawne.

Gretchen: I’m Gretchen McCulloch. Today, we’re getting enthusiastic about the relationship of the translator and the text. But first, we’re heading into Lingthusiasm anniversary month! This is our fourth anniversary of doing Lingthusiasm, and we’re really excited that we’re still doing this four years later.

Lauren: We love a bit of reflection and nostalgia. The month of November is always an opportunity to be grateful that we have another year of Lingthusiasm. We have a whole 12 great main episodes. We have 12 more bonus episodes. As with every year, if you want to share a link to your favourite episode, November is an especially nice time to do it.

Gretchen: There are still people in this world who don’t know that they could be listening to a fun podcast about linguistics that makes them feel like they’re at a linguistics party instead of doing the dishes. You could help people find them. Most people still find podcasts through word of mouth. Every year we’ve done this in November, we see a big spike in people listening to the show and finding the show. If you wanna share on social media, we are very happy to thank you if you tag us in things.

Lauren: If you want to share off social media, please accept our deepest gratitude non-publicly for sharing shows as well.

Gretchen: Or, if you share Lingthusiasm privately and you still wanna be thanked, feel free to tell us about it on social media. We will still give you a little heart thank you comment. Yes, thank you already for all of the support that you’ve given the show over the years.

Lauren: If you like things additional to podcasts, because we are coming up to the holiday season, it’s also a good time to think about some Lingthusiasm merch or a copy of Because Internet. It’s a pretty great book. I like it. It’s available in paperback now. These things make great gifts.

Gretchen: We now also have annual memberships on Patreon. That could make a great gift to gift somebody to listen to more Lingthusiasm episodes as well as access to the Discord for an online linguistics community.

Lauren: Our most recent bonus episode was about honorifics as a way of being polite to someone either through the title you choose or a variety of linguistic strategies.

Gretchen: You get access to the honorifics bonus as well as 43 other bonus episodes and new bonus episodes every month by going to patreon.com/lingthusiasm.

[Music]

Gretchen: So, Lauren, I’m gonna talk to you about Beowulf.

Lauren: I know this because you have been messaging me for weeks about how we have to talk about Beowulf.

Gretchen: There’s a new translation of Beowulf. I’m really excited. This made me want to build an entire episode around the translator’s relationship to the text because this new translation of Beowulf does a really cool job of it, and I wanna talk about it.

Lauren: I don’t think you’ve been this excited about a translated text since Emily Wilson translated The Odyssey. I’m pretty sure that’s what motivated our 18th episode on word translation.

Gretchen: You are not wrong about this. I think there’s a similar excitement that I have which is old texts – texts that are a thousand-plus years old that have been translated so many different times by so many different people – it feels like it’s hard for someone to do something new with a translation of them. And yet, here people are doing that, which is exciting to me. This is the new translation of Beowulf by Maria Dahvana Headley. She’s done some really cool things with translating Beowulf as a feminist text. It’s a text that uses very modern style language in this thousand-year-old epic poem of Old English literature.

Lauren: I feel like when it comes to translating, before you even translate one single word, there’s all these decisions that a translator has to make. In Episode 18, we looked at translation, but we looked at word-to-word translation. And that’s definitely one part of a translator’s job, but they have so many more decisions to make. It is such an impressive job, and it’s why it’s as much an art form as it is a technical skill to translate something well. So, what are some of the big decisions that Headley made before even starting to translate Beowulf?

Gretchen: One of the things about Beowulf is, as an oral poem, it has this intricate rhyme scheme. The Old English rhyme scheme is based on half lines. Each line has two halves and there needs to be an alliterative bit in one half that is repeated in the second half.

Lauren: So, Old English is way more interested in alliteration compared to our modern English obsession with rhyming. That’s one of the stylistic features you find in Old English.

Gretchen: It’s all about the beginning of the words rather than the ends. Trying to figure out, okay, how much am I gonna use alliteration? How much am I gonna try to represent – because we can do alliteration in modern English – how much am I gonna try to represent the existing rhyme scheme? Where am I gonna try to put it in actual rhymes like you would do in modern English – if you’re writing a poem, you might rhyme it? What am I gonna do with the metre? She’s produced this really oral text that uses a certain amount of modern slang as well in ways that are really effective. One example is there’s a dragon in Beowulf, and the dragon at one point is described as “Putting the world on blast.”

Lauren: Nice.

Gretchen: To some extent, this is modern slang, but it’s also a very literal thing that a dragon can do. It’s not using modern slang for gratuitous – like, there’s no “lols” or “omgs” in this text. It’s not like here’s this facile text-speak version of Beowulf. It’s what are the bits here that actually work with the metre and the rhyme scheme but also not shying away from using a modern idiom where a modern idiom really works.

Lauren: It’s interesting to put this in contrast to the other most famous version of Beowulf in translation that I know of which is Seamus Heaney’s from somewhere in the middle of the 20th Century where I feel like he tried to capture the mythical grandeur of Old English and chose very stoic, solid sounding Old English words. I don’t think he would’ve had the dragon “putting the world on blast.”

Gretchen: Well, I don’t think he would’ve – I think it came out in 1999, this translation. In some ways his translation is fairly vernacular, but he tries to do that in a different sense. Can I read you the first bit of the Headley translation and the Heaney translation?

Lauren: Yeah. This is super fun.

Gretchen: Okay. A big thing about Beowulf translations is the first word which in Old English is “Hwaet.” That has gotten repurposed as a meme, which we’re not gonna get into much detail about. Some people translate that as like, “Lo!” or “Hark!” or “Listen!” or something like this. Heaney translates that as “So,” which has already got a certain level of vernacularity to it. His first three lines go, “So, the Spear-Danes in days gone by and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness. We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.” This is very stately and like, “Here’s this thing you’re gonna do.” If you compare that with the first three lines of the Headley translation, the new one, she translates this “Hwaet” as “Bro.”

Lauren: Hm, that’s a very different tone.

Gretchen: It’s a very modern tone. I mean, you could pick a whole bunch of very modern things like “Yo” or “Hey all,” but specifically the reason she picks “Bro” is because she wants to highlight the bro culture-ness of this entire story. You can see that in the next couple lines which is, “Bro, tell me we still know how to speak of kings. In the old days, everyone knew what men were – brave, bold, glory bound. Only stories now, but all sound the Spear-Dane song, hoarded for hungry times.” It just leaps off the page in a way that really excites me.

Lauren: Yeah, no “princes” there.

Gretchen: Right. “Kings who ruled had courage and greatness” – “The men were bold.”

Lauren: The thing I always love about Beowulf is that it’s a millennium-old oral poem that happened to be written down, and a millennium ago people were like, “Let me tell you about the olden days.” [Laughter]

Gretchen: Right, it still takes place in this semi-mythic space, and it uses a certain stylised language that we even think was stylised at the time. You’re always picking between some kind of stylisation. There’s no neutral choice that exists. All of the choices are recreations at some level.

Lauren: I mean, it is kind of weird to think you’re translating from English into English, but it just shows how much the language has moved on because reading Beowulf if you don’t know Old English is an incredibly uncomfortable attempt to just guess some words that have retained some familiarity. I always find it interesting that you have to translate. And then because English went through enough changes by Shakespeare, we kind of put up with all of the features of Shakespeare that aren’t immediately obvious to us.

Gretchen: Right. But Beowulf is really this alien text. Like, “Hwaet. We Gardena” – and “Gardena” is “Spear-Danes,” but we don’t have “Spear-Danes,” and “Gardena” is not obviously related to those. There’s this great miniseries from The History of English Podcast that does a very in-depth line-by-line reading of Beowulf which I enjoyed a while back.

Lauren: My one semantic anecdote from that series is “Gar-Danes” as in “Spear-Danes” – garlic is the “spear-leek.”

Gretchen: Yes, it is!

Lauren: Because it’s like a little spear.

Gretchen: It’s like a little spear-leek. I love that anecdote. It’s interesting to be reading Beowulf at the same time that my book club is actually reading The Tale of Genji.

Lauren: Ah, from like a similar – Genji’s also a millennium old, yeah?

Gretchen: Yeah! In some sense it’s like Beowulf and Genji are kind of contemporaries.

Lauren: But they’re very much not contemporaries. Beowulf is about warrior bro culture in the Old English setting, whereas Genji is a Japanese court drama.

Gretchen: I don’t think they would’ve gotten along. I think they would’ve just found each other completely incomprehensible. Genji’s also one of those classic texts that’s been translated a whole bunch of different times in a whole bunch of different ways. For one thing, you’re translating from a much older version of Japanese. There are modern Japanese translations of The Tale of Genji as well. And then you’re also translating into a different cultural context. But the cultural context for Beowulf is also very weird. Like, I don’t do going and fighting monsters under lakes any more than I do writing haikus about the moon. In fact, I’m probably more likely to write a haiku about the moon than I am to go fight a monster under a lake if we wanna talk about relatability.

Lauren: Everything I know about Genji is because one of my colleagues in the Languages Department at La Trobe is a Genji studies scholar. It’s one of those pieces of work that is so big and so canonical that it has its own literary studies tradition associated with it. I also really love my colleague because the other part of her expertise is cosplay studies. I think it’s such a great combination of Japanese cultural experience there – Genji and cosplay.

Gretchen: I mean, what more do you want? The neat thing about reading Tale of Genji at the moment is because I’m reading it as part of a book club through Argo Bookshop – which is a bookstore that did the book launch party for Because Internet and I really like them – they’re having this Tale of Genji book club, and we’ve been reading it throughout the year a few chapters at a time because it’s over 1,000 pages. It’s huge. So, we’ve been reading it section by section, and different members of the book club have picked different translations into English of the same work.

Lauren: Ah, cool! Are there radical differences between the translations? Or do they all try and go for a literal approach?

Gretchen: They’re really different. One of the big things with Genji is at the time in 11th Century Japan it was considered very rude in the court to refer to people by their actual names. None of the characters in the original Tale of Genji manuscript have names, except for maybe Genji. So, you can imagine reading a thousand-page book where none of the characters have names is a bit of a feat of the imagination.

Lauren: Yes.

Gretchen: Different translations – and a lot of them have conventional names that literary scholars have used to talk about the characters. For example, Lady Fujitsubo lives in the Fujitsubo, which is the western pavilion, and so she gets called in the tradition “Fujitsubo” because that’s where she lives, and this kind of stuff. Or Murasaki gets called that after a flower, I think, the character. In some translations, they just use these conventional use names as if they’re the actual names of the characters. In some translations, they just use descriptions like the original text did, and they don’t really refer to characters by even pretend names or use names.

Lauren: So, one of them is trying to strive for cultural authenticity, and the other one is trying to just help the poor confused reader a little bit more, and that’s choices that each translator has decided to make.

Gretchen: Exactly. You also have other types of decisions like, “Are you going to try to” – because it’s a court drama, you have all these court positions. Are you going try to map those positions onto a western court so that people understand what a chancellor is? Or are you going to try to use those as a more direct translation of what the specific terms were at the time? That’s just different decisions that different translations can use.

Lauren: When you meet as a book club, is everyone following along, or is there a lot of clarifying across translations? Such an interesting little exercise.

Gretchen: Well, the nice thing is, is the division into different chapters is very constant, so we can be like, “Okay, we’re reading Chapters 6 to 10 now. We’re gonna talk about what happens in those.” But sometimes you do pull something up, and you’re like, “Okay, so this bit where this thing was said, do we think Genji is kinda misogynistic here?” And somebody will say, “Well, in my translation, it doesn’t actually seem like he’s misogynistic.” And here’s what’s going on in this particular translation versus that particular translation. And how much of it is the translator bringing their own preconceived notions of how people relate to each other? Because some of these translations are from the 1920s or something. People may have had different politics there. And how much of that is in the original text which was composed by a woman who we don’t know that much about? But it’s the first modern novel. It’s an interesting like, “How much are you going to try to westernise this book for a western audience?” Which some of the older translations do a bit more with the westernisation adaptation because people in the west hadn’t heard of Genji very much before. You do all this adaptation for your English-speaking readers. Whereas, more recent translators, people tend to have a higher degree of expectations of fidelity when it comes to a more modern translation. Sometimes they try to do that. And, you know, how many footnotes do you have? How much do you try to explain additionally? How much do you try to just make the text stand on its own as a story?

Lauren: So many choices to make as a translator. I’m eternally grateful to people who do this and make it appear so effortless while doing so much work bringing all of this context together.

Gretchen: It’s really neat. I’m not gonna read this 1,000-page book five different times in five different translations, but being able to experience portions of those translations vicariously through other people talking about, “Oh, here’s what happened in this one, here’s what happened in this one,” it does let you do this interesting comparative textual study.

Lauren: I’ve been thinking about translation in practice a lot lately because having worked with P. M. Freestone on their Shadowscent books, “The Darkets Bloom” and “Crown of Smoke,” these books have gone into translation in a whole bunch of languages, mostly European languages to date – Spanish, German, French, Russian, and Polish. I’m very excited about the upcoming Hungarian translation which will the first outside of the Indo-European language. But these translations involve a couple of things that are really interesting in that, in these books, I worked on creating the Aramteskan language, and for this language to work across different languages, sometimes it gets technically transliterated, or you need to add a different type of plural. For example, Russian has a different alphabet to English and so you need to fit this language into the Russian Cyrillic alphabet.

Gretchen: You’re not trying to pretend that Aramteskan is always written with the Latin alphabet. Even when the book itself is in Russian, you’re like, we’re gonna transliterate it into Cyrillic?

Lauren: No, translators have very much done what they think is most appropriate. I have a habit of buying these translations now and checking out what they’ve done because they’re not just translating from English into another language, they also have to translate this completely fictional language and this fictional world into that language as well. It’s one thing to maybe study in-depth Old English warrior culture or Japanese court culture and decide what to bring across, but with a fantasy world, there’s all kinds of choices you have to make as a translator as well.

Gretchen: Yeah, like what are you gonna do with the magic system? Or if you’ve invented all of these words for different scents or something, then they have to figure out some sort of equivalent of inventing those words for the other language.

Lauren: There’s a lot of scent vocabulary even in the English that P. M. Freestone has written in, so really taxing that part of the translator’s repertoire. One thing that’s been particularly interesting and that there’s been some discussion on how to manage is that in this world, both in the historical part of the world and the contemporary part of the world, the culture and the grammar allow for gender neutral third person like the English modern use of “they,” which Kirby Conrod gave a great interview about how that works in contemporary English. In fact, I did a little historical evolution of the pronoun system that fits with the story of the world where originally there was no gender distinction in the pronoun system, which fits with the old religious system of the world. And the religious system evolved younger gods that are all gendered, and the pronoun system evolved genders at the same time while still having that scope for gender neutral. Without spoiling too much, but a character that pops up in Book One and is much more a part of Book Two is gender fluid within the world. That works for current English because we have gender neutral singular they, but there are some languages like Czech or like Russian that the book’s being translated into where there isn’t that flexibility in the linguistic system. So, decisions have to be made about how that is negotiated in the translation.

Gretchen: Do you know what they did?

Lauren: I don’t know what they did for Russian yet, but I believe the solution in Czech is at various times this character is overtly identified using masculine and at other times using feminine – being much more flexible about the duality of their relationship with gender.

Gretchen: This reminds me of a thing that I heard Ada Palmer talk about at a conference panel with her book “Too Like the Lightning” and the sequels, which are set in this far future of English – well, far future and they’re written in English – in which singular they is used for everybody except when you’re writing in this faux-archaic style with “thous” and “thees” and “hes” and “shes.” It’s very marked at that point. Ada Palmer was talking about how this was translated into French where in modern English the progressive thing that people do is like, “Oh, we can use singular they. That’s very progressive.” In modern French, the progressive thing that people do is they make feminine versions of all of the professions.

Lauren: Right.

Gretchen: You have feminine versions of “professor” or “doctor” or these kinds of things to try and make the gender more visible. And so erase the gender in the French version wouldn’t have the same effect – where you’d end up using the default masculine or something in the French version – it wouldn’t have the same effect as using singular they all the time in the English version. There are modern French pronouns like “iel” that have been coined to solve this problem of using a gender neutral third person pronoun, but it wouldn’t work to use them in this particular case because the style is supposed to be faux-archaic. What the translator ended up doing was digging out this French pronoun “on,” which in the modern form “on” is used like “we” or like “one does this.” It’s related to like, “One does this.” There’s an older usage of “on” which is like a non-specific third person pronoun as well that – I speak French, but I didn’t know about this archaic form. And the translator went and looked for what other historic pronoun things could I do and ended up doing with “on” thing, which is a really interesting adaptation.

Lauren: The thing I find interesting is if you were – 50 years ago, you didn’t have the grammatical resources in English to use singular they for a specific person. It’s something that’s really only emerged in the last couple of decades. I think the translator has felt frustrated to not have – you know, you sometimes feel like you’ve got this road block because you don’t have resources in one language that you have in another and you have to innovate. I did have a colleague in Italian studies tell me that they read a whole novel once where the gender of one of the characters was deliberately written around and avoided in a way that was an incredibly artful, thoughtful translation. It is possible that you could maybe do this with this character in the Shadowscent books, but it would be such –

Gretchen: But you couldn’t do it with the whole world in the Terra Ignota books because all of the characters would have to have that.

Lauren: Yeah. And you could do that amount of heavy lifting at the cost of some other things, but when you’re doing an efficient translation for a commercial novel, you don’t have the resources to really max out your art and strategy in that way. It’s interesting that, you know, translation is a really resource-intensive activity even to just do a good translation, let alone an incredibly strategic and thoughtful translation.

Gretchen: Even translating one word, like that word at the beginning of Beowulf, involves thinking about, “Okay, what kind of relationship do I want this word to have to the rest of the text? What am I trying to set up here in relationship to the whole text? Where do I see this attention-getting word as going?” Like, what the text as a whole is doing, which is this interesting question. I should say, speaking of translation news, this is very hot off the presses, but I have received news that there are gonna be translations of Because Internet into Persian, Chinese, and Japanese. So, all – well, Persian is an Indo-European language, but it has a different writing system, and then two non-Indo-European languages. I don’t know anything else about the details yet.

Lauren: This is news that I didn’t even know. This is very exciting.

Gretchen: It’s very recent, yes. It’s not – I dunno. I will have official links when they exist. They won’t exist for, I dunno, probably a couple years. I dunno how long it’ll take them to do. I know nothing.

Gretchen: The surreal thing about translation means that you will see you work and not be able to read it. There’s something so amazing and magical about that, that words you have created are finding new audiences – you know, there’s a lot of trust in the translator in those contexts.

Gretchen: Yeah, and I don’t know if I’m gonna get to have any say in who they get to translate it and how much they know about the internet or things like that.

Lauren: Translating non-fiction is an entirely different process because you’re not translating an internal narrative world as much as you are potentially translating something that explains how this world that we live in right now exists, or how a set of historical realities existed. That also takes deftness and skill.

Gretchen: And you’re potentially trying to translate technical vocabulary between one language or another, which isn’t necessarily the same as, “Okay, we need to keep the characters’ names consistent. It’s like, “We need to use this word that has a technical meaning in its technical sense.” Speaking of non-fiction translation, I dunno if you’ve been following in translation news relatively recently, there’s been a lot of things going on with the Scots language Wikipedia.

Lauren: Yes, I did read about this. So, Scots language is a language in the same family as English. It has a lot of similarities with English but is considered its own “variety,” using that very deliberate linguist term where you don’t commit to just how much it’s a dialect or its mutual intelligibility with other varieties that its related to. And it has its own Wikipedia.

Gretchen: Scots is kind of like, as an English speaker, I’ve always been kind of jealous of people who speak Dutch or German or something because they can kind of understand each other a bit. Or Spanish and Portuguese and Italian because they can kind of approximate understanding each other to some extent even if they haven’t formally learned the languages. I’ve always been like, “Why doesn’t English have some closer neighbours?” But I hadn’t been thinking about Scots when I was thinking that. Scots is probably English’s closest neighbour but is still a distinct language and, especially, there are grammatical differences and there are a lot of political reasons as well why people consider it its own language. However, [laughs] the Scots language Wikipedia, which has all of these articles written in Scots, had apparently been being edited for the last seven years by an American teenager who didn’t know any Scots and was just looking up the English articles in a Scots-English dictionary word-by-word and just picking the first word of the translation and subbing that in for the Scots word.

Lauren: This has been such a difficult story to read because everyone throughout this process has acted in the best faith. This teenager wasn’t doing this for any reason other than a passion for sharing knowledge on Wikipedia and a passion for seeing the Scots Wikipedia grow but with a really uncritical approach to translation. You can see where translation really does require this understanding of vocabulary choice and style choice and how it can all go really, really wrong.

Gretchen: Yeah, it’s really painful because this person started when they were, like, 12, and we have all believed very foolish things about the world when we were 12. It’s just many of us didn’t write thousands of Wikipedia articles in a language that is just really not the way anybody who actually speaks this language actually writes because it’s cobbled together badly from a dictionary. It’s this very painful, “Oh, no! You thought you were helping.” And yet Wikipedia is used as the basis of a lot of machine translation, and language detection, various natural language processing tools, and so this has been potentially sabotaging the efforts to try to create other machine tools in Scots because they’ve all been in this weird dictionary-a-fied version of English.

Lauren: It’s been really heartening to see the Scots language community and the Scottish Wikipedia community come together to figure out a strategy for how to approach cleaning house – I guess it’s the biggest spring clean ever, right – how to approach this, like, thousands and thousands of articles with this very strange approach to translation.

Gretchen: It illuminates one of the issues with smaller language Wikipedias in general which is that they may only have a few active editors because to be a Wikipedia editor is to be a volunteer. It takes a long time to translate things or to write articles. If you’re a language like English, you can have tens of thousands of editors. But if you’re a language like Scots which has many fewer speakers, you may only have a dozen active editors of which maybe one of them is a well-meaning but very clueless American teenager.

Lauren: We’ve both done lots of Wikipedia editing. We have run LingWiki events to improve linguistics content on Wikipedia. It’s challenging enough to write these articles in one language that I am proficient in. I’m always in awe of people who choose to translate and support content in their second or third languages because it is a non-trivial task to translate really complicated information in a way that is really clear.

Gretchen: Translation is a technical task that is one of those things that looks at all of the different levels of language where you have some things at the individual word, or even sound, or if you’re trying to translate poetry and you wanna make it beautiful in a very aesthetic sense with the physical properties of language, all the way up to words and sentences and structure and these discourse-y particles like “Hwaet” at the beginning where you’re trying to picture a whole framing device for the structure of an entire tone of a narrative. Or if you’re trying to pick, “Okay, how are we going to treat technical vocabulary that maybe has been borrowed from English?” because its scientific vocabulary that was invented from English, how are you gonna treat that when it gets borrowed into Scots? Trying to figure out how to make these technical decisions is non-trivial. It’s this very interesting train wreck. It can go spectacularly right when you have this very clever decision for a dragon to put the world on blast, and it can also go spectacularly wrong when you just say, “Okay, I’m gonna look through a dictionary and then pick the first word I encounter.”

Lauren: One of the great things about appreciating a good translation is that language never takes a break. Culture continues to change, and we move further away from the era of Beowulf. We move into new cultural settings and new cultural expectations. It means that there is space for new translations that bring new approaches, or try something different, or aim for really capturing something about the language of the era it was created in, or set an old story in a radically new setting. Even when you find a really satisfying translation, you know there’s still possibilities for finding other interesting ways to engage with the text.

Gretchen: I think that’s a thing that’s exciting about both the translations of these thousand-year-old texts, whether Beowulf or Tale of Genji, where they go through lots of different authors who put their own spin on the translation. And also thinking of Wikipedia as a place for translation where you have multiple authors working together on the same shared text, and a bunch of different people – like Scots Wikipedia has been having these Wikipedia edit-a-thons to try to clean the place up. You have a whole bunch of contributors that are finding out about this need because of this story and coming in and working on the text together and contributing to the shared text. In many ways, even though each of these editions of the translations are published as their own book for book-length ones, it’s this very intimate relationship that you can have with a text when you’re trying to render it in a different language or in a different textual interpretation.

[Music]

Gretchen: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode, go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get IPA scarves, IPA ties, and other Lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and my book about internet language is called Because Internet.

Lauren: I tweet and blog as Superlinguo. Have you listened to all the Lingthusiasm episodes and you wish there were more? You can access to 44 bonus episodes right now to listen to at patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patron also get access to our Discord chatroom to talk with other linguistics fans and other rewards as well as helping to keep the show ad-free. Recent bonus topics include pangrams, honorifics, and linguistics with kids. If you can’t afford to pledge, that’s okay, too. We really appreciate it if you can recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone who needs a little more linguistics in their life, especially as it’s the anniversary month.

Gretchen: Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our senior producer is Claire Gawne, our editorial producer is Sarah Dopierala, and our music is “Ancient City” by The Triangles.

Lauren: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

#language #linguistics #lingthusiasm #episode 49 #transcripts #translation #translations #beowulf #tale of genji #maria dahvana headley #shadowscent #p m freestone #wikipedia #scots #japanese #old english #scots wikipedia

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 3 years

Text

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 5)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” your mother smirked as you walked into the house. “I can’t believe you’ve been here almost a week and you’re just now coming to visit your mother.”

You rolled your eyes putting your coat on the hook and heading into the kitchen, “I’ve been here like three days… four at the most and I already told you. I have a deadline.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she sighed. “How’s that coming along?”

“I’m better off now than where I was before I left,” you said.

“Hm, maybe that means you should come home more often,” she raised an eyebrow.

This was a constant thing between you and your mother. She always claimed you never came home enough even though you made sure to visit a least a couple of days every other month. She would much rather you live here in Holmes Chapel, which technically was possible, but it made more sense for you to be in London.

“Anyway,” you said. “What do you have on the agenda for today?”

“Oh, I thought we could grab some breakfast and go do a little shopping,” she smiled.

“Oh, that would be great. I have some last minute shopping,” you said.

“I figured you did,” she laughed. “You definitely get that from me.”

You giggled, “So, ready to go?”

“Yep,” she smiled.

The drive into town where the main shops were located was mostly quiet. However, you could feel your mother glancing over at you.

“Just spit it out, already,” you said looking over at her.

“What are you talking about?” She smirked.

“You’re acting suspicious. There’s something on your mind, so spit it out,” you said.

“Oh, I’m just wondering how things are going over at Anne’s,” she said. “I heard Harry came home early.”

Your cheeks flushed red at the mention of Harry’s name. You were itching to tell your mother what had happened between you and Harry. Maybe not all the details, but that you two had confessed your feelings. But you and Harry had yet to establish what that meant for the two of you and you didn’t want to go blabbing about something that may not even workout. You hated having doubts, but there were very good reasons on why you did.

“Yeah, he came home the day after I got there, I think,” you said.

Speaking of when he got home, you couldn’t help but go back to the moment he walked in on you in the tub making you blush even more.

“Hm… have the two of you spoken at all?” She asked.

“We have,” you nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

“Hm,” she says.

“Okay, what are you doing?” You asked. “You’re being weird.”

“What? I’m just catching up with my daughter. What’s weird about that?” She asked.

“Your body language,” you said. “You’re tense and dragging out your thoughts. Your tone is one of those where you’re saying one thing, but have a whole other meaning behind it.”

“Look at you miss writer,” she joked. “But since you’re so aware… I was just wondering about you and Harry.”

“What do you mean about me and Harry? Just that we’re talking again… or that we’re working on our friendship?” You asked.

“Well, that but also… I didn’t know if maybe… you know,” she said.

“No, I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking what you’re getting at,” you laughed.

Although, in all honesty, you probably really did know what she was getting at, but you weren’t about to tell her that.

“I’m just wondering if you know… still are in love with him,” she said.

“Hold on, what do you mean still in love with him?” You asked.

“Y/N, darling, you’re my daughter. I know you. Yes, you and Harry were inseparable as best friends, but I saw the way you looked at him and the way you lit up whenever you were around him. I knew how you felt about him before even you did,” she said. “And I know things have been weird and distanced between you two the past few years, but that sort of love doesn’t just go away.”

You sighed looking out the window, “Then I guess you know the answer to your own question.”

“Are you going to tell him?” She asked.

You bit your lip, still debating on telling her, but you couldn’t lie to her. She was your mother and plus she would have seen right through you.

“Weeelllll,” you said. “I kinda already told him… after he told me he was in love with me.”

As soon as the words left your lips, she slammed on the brings, pulling to the side of the road.

“And you’re just now telling me this!” She gasped. “Does Anne know? We’ve been waiting for ages for the two of you to come to your senses! What happened next? When did this happen?”

“Breathe, Mum,” you laughed. “One question at a time, please.”

“I’m sorry, now tell me details!” She insisted.

“I don’t know really, it just kinda happened. We’ve been talking and spending a little bit of time together the past few days in between my writing sessions. Then next thing I knew, he showed up at my door in the middle of the night telling me he was in love with me. That’s pretty much it. We haven’t even had a conversation about what happens next or what we want to happen next yet. We’re supposed to talk later tonight,” you said.

“What do you want to happen next?” She asked.

“Well, I obviously want to be with him. I want to give a relationship a try, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a little hesitant about it. There’s so many unknown scenarios and plus, we have really spoken in years. What if we’ve changed and we’re not the same people we fell in love with. What if it’s just the idea of us that we love and not each other,” you said.

“Those are all completely valid reasons, but honey, those can apply to anyone and every relationship,” she said.

“Okay, what about the whole long distance thing? It didn’t work out for us in regards to our friendship,” you sighed.

“Again completely valid,” she agreed. “But you two are older and in different places in your life. Plus, he’s not on the road for as long or as often.”

“That’s true,” you nodded.

“Look, whatever happens with you and Harry is up to you and Harry, but don’t let the fear of the unknown and what ifs keep you from letting you be with the one you love,” she said. “Would you rather live with the regret of never giving it a try and always wondering what might have happened, or would you rather live knowing you did and maybe it didn’t work out… or maybe it does. You just have to look at what decision you’ll be ready to live with.”

“You’ve been watching Dr. Phil again haven’t you?” You joked. “But seriously, I might use that line in my book.”

“Go right ahead, love,” she winked. “But in all seriousness, you and Harry really need to sit down, talk, and listen to one another.”

“I know,” you said. “We will. I promise.”

“Good,” she smiled. “You know I just want you to be happy.”

“I know and I love you for it,” you smiled.

“And I love you,” she smiled.

Harry did his best to sneak back into the house, but it didn’t matter how quiet he was because Anne was sitting in the chair in the living room sipping tea and reading a book.

“A bit early for you innit?” She smirked.

“I uh… I um.. “ Harry coughed. “Went for a run.”

“In your slippers?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry’s face blushed red, “I can explain,” he answered.

“You were with Y/N,” she stated. “Were you safe?”

“What? Oh my god, Mum,” He said, running his hands over his face. “What are you on about?”

“Hey, you two are adults. I just want to make sure you’re safe unless you want to make me a grandma already, which I’m not entirely opposed to,” she said.

“Mum seriously, stop,” he groaned. “We didn’t… I just slept out there.”

“Riiight,” she said.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he mumbled. “It’s the truth.”

“Well either way, this must mean you finally told her how you felt,” she said.

“I did,” he nodded.

“And I take it she told you how she felt too?” Anne stated.

“Yep,” he nodded.

“So, when’s the wedding?” She smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, “You need to chill.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “Y/mom’s/name and I have been waiting for this day for ages. Ooh, I wonder if she knows?”

“Y/N’s with her now… so maybe,” Harry shrugged.

“How does it feel now that you’ve told her?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought.. I don't know...maybe it would feel like this huge moment… but I still feel the same.”

“Do you regret it?” She asked.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “I’d never regret telling the woman I love that I love her, but that was only the first step. I don’t know what this means for us now.”

“What do you want it to mean?” She asked. “What do you want to happen with Y/N?”

“I want to be with her,” he said. “I want to give a relationship a chance, but I kinda get the sense she’s a little apprehensive about.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked.

“Well for starters she kept putting off having the ‘what now’ conversation,” he sighed.

“Or she could just want time to let what happened soak in,” she said. “You and Y/N have been through a lot and have kept these feelings inside for so long, now that they’re out that’s going to take some getting used to.”

“That’s true,” he sighed. “I guess… I just pictured it to go a little differently.”

“You wanted your rom-com moment?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes at her, but didn’t say anything.

“Harry, look at me,” she said. “I know you and Y/N have missed out on a lot of time together, but you’re still so young. You don’t have to rush into anything. You have plenty of time. Everything doesn’t need to be figured out in a day.”

“I’m afraid I’m gonna lose her again, Mum,” he whispered. “Just when I’ve gotten her back.”

Anne got up from her chair, walking over to sit next to him on the couch, “You never lost her, sweetheart. She was always in here,” she smiled, placing her hand on his chest.

“I know,” he sighed. “But I fucked up when I let our friendship go… what if she can’t trust me to have a relationship?”

“I mean, she would have valid concern over that,” she said. “But that was years ago and if she wants to be with you, she would have to move on from that. And you would have to make sure what happened last time doesn’t happen again.”

“It wouldn’t,” he whispered.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “But ultimately, in the end, you just need to talk to Y/N, whenever she’s ready. And you need to be ready to listen to her and accept that she may not want a relationship right now. You two aren’t as close as you used to be, things have changed, you’ve grown up. Take the time to get to know one another before you make this big decision, alright?”

“Says the woman who thought we had sex and asked when is the wedding,” he joked.

“Oh hush!” She said, slapping his arm.

He laughed, “No, I hear you, Mum and thanks for the talk… even if it started out a bit much.”

“You’re welcome, that’s what I’m here for,” she smiled.

Harry laughed wrapping his arms around her in a big hug. He definitely felt better about going into the conversation with you. He just hoped he felt the same way after it.

Dun. Dun. Dun.

How do you think the conversation is going to go? How do you want it to go?

Let me know! :)

Part 6 will be posted tomorrow at Midnight CST!

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fan fics #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years

Note

Hiding-your-face hug for Rowaelin please

Little but cute. This is heavily influenced by where I was raised so know that where I come from we call everyone uncle and aunt if they are family friend’s since your childhood. That does not mean they are family, it’s just a type of nickname. Meaning their kids are also not your cousins! Enjoy!!

Matchmaking dances

Aelin loved her nonna’s birthday parties.

Technically, nonna wasn’t her grandmother, but she had been in Aelin’s life since birth. Aelin’s parents were best friends with nonna’s kids, and so Aelin had been raised with her around. Her father, Rhoe, used to tell Aelin stories of his childhood. Stories of meeting her mom, Evalin, and her sister, Adelpha, when they were still kids. Stories with Viktor and Amidala, nonna’s kids, and Gavriel, Cal and Marion.

Rhoe and Evalin were the first to get married, followed then by Gavriel and Adelpha. Cal and Marion married a few years later, and in the mean time Viktor had married a woman named Gaia and Amidala married her college boyfriend, Quinn.

They had been friends since their childhoods, and when they all got married and had their own kids, they were raised together too.

Aelin’s whole childhood had been filled with memories of Elide, Aedion, Fenrys and Rowan. They had all lived near each other, but spent most of their free time in nonna’s house. Her childhood had been filled with days spent in the family estate’s garden, the house in the outskirts of the city. All five of them running around the house, almost breaking old vases and sculptures. Days spent inside the library whenever it was raining, just quietly reading or talking. Days spent at the infirmary with aunt Marion tending to their cuts and bruises, and nights spent camping on the backyard, jumping over the fire, counting the stars. All those years playing and growing together could never be forgotten by her.

The parties, however, were the best. The whole family and family friends would come together and they would celebrate from sunrise to sunrise. Aelin remembered playing tag with Elide and Fenrys. Remembered playing pranks on the adults with Aedion. Remembered grumbling every time nonna forced her and Rowan to dance. It had happened since both could walk, and it had grew extremely uncomfortable when both had the age to realize that nonna was trying to pair them up. They complained every time after that, although as they grew even older, both waited excitedly for the dancing part.

They were absolutely horrendous dancing, making up their own steps and butchering the original choreography.

Aelin barely had a memory that didn’t involve at least one of them, and she smiled whenever she thought of it.

As they grew old and moved away from the estate, the only time they really all visited at the same time was during big celebrations. Since she had opted to stay in Orynth and study art with her grand uncle Orlon, Aelin was the one that always managed to go back home and see everyone. Aedion had opted to stay in Orynth too, the two cousins sharing an apartment off campus. Elide had gone to Perranth, so she did come back but only on holidays and birthdays. To her nonna’s eternal sadness, Fen and Rowan had gone off to Doranelle, meaning that their visits were usually made by a video chat for the past three and a half years.

“Happy birthday, nonna!” Aelin said, smiling at the silver headed woman.

“A hundred and twenty seven, right?” Aedion said, and nonna hit him with a towel.

“Eighty, you little brat.” Nonna narrowed her eyes at Aedion, but he just laughed it off. “That’s why your cousin was my favorite.”

“We all know you always loved me more.” Aedion hummed, walking by her and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Is uncle Rhoe here?”

“In the back.” Nonna called and Aedion nodded, going to find Aelin’s dad.

“How is eighty, nonna?” Aelin asked softly, hugging the woman.

“Tiring. I’m sure that if I were to run after you and Rowan again to stop both from shaving off Fenrys’s dog, I’d break a hip.”

Aelin’s cheeks heated, but she smiled nonetheless. “That was once.”

“The two of you.” Nonna laughed, hugging Aelin’s side and walking her to the back. “All five were little devils, but the combination of you and Rowan alone was enough to bring this house down if you weren’t supervised.”

“It really was.” Aelin heard a sweet voice coming from the backyard, Elide walking in their direction with a devilish smile on her face. She wore a small wrap summer dress like Aelin, but instead of red, hers was purple. “It is good that Rowan didn’t go to college with Ace. I can only imagine the catastrophe.”

“You’re such a—“ Aelin said, mouthing bitch.

“I’m not stupid, Aelin Galathynius.” Nonna pestered, making sure to let Aelin know that her attempt of not cursing in front of elders had failed, and Elide cackled. “I need to speak to Aed’s mom. I’ll tell Adelpha you said hi, Aelin.”

“Thanks.” Aelin said, walking up to Elide and giving her friend a hug.

“Don’t get into trouble the two of you.”

“We would never!” Elide shouted back, but the smile she gave Aelin promised the contrary. “We have a surprise to nonna.”

“We?”

“Yes, we.” Aelin turned back at the voice, smiling at her aunt Amidala and her uncle Quinn. “My Fenrys called yesterday. He and Rowan are coming today to celebrate nonna’s birthday. Viktor and Gaia are ecstatic to see their son again.”

Aelin turned around to see her father and mother talking to Viktor and Gaia. As if they could feel her stare, both turned to her and smiled. Uncle Viktor was usually serious, reserving his smiles. Aunt Gaia, though, was always a happy presence. With her silver hair and blue eyes, the woman looked like a goddess. Rowan looked so much like both of them. He had his mother’s hair and smile, but his father’s eyes, face and seriousness. Aelin smiled back and waved at them.

“When?” She turned back to Amidala and Quinn. “I haven’t seen the two in ages.”

Aelin was beyond excited because of it. She had only talked to Ro and Fen through phone and postcards, and she couldn’t wait to see both in person again. For the next few hours, Aelin spent most of her time with Elide and Aed, all three sitting on the grass and laughing while retelling their childhood stories. They all held some sort of cocktail drink that uncle Gavriel had made them, and it was good enough that Aelin didn’t question what was inside, just asked for more when she emptied her glass. Morning ended and the afternoon sun was burning up. Aelin knew she should get up and put on some sunscreen if she didn’t want her face peppered with even more freckles, but she was feeling so calm and comfortable that she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

Coming back to nonna’s house with one of her friends always made her feel like this. She was twenty two, but sitting on the grass, laughing with Aed and Elide, she felt as if she was seven again. It was the greatest nostalgic feeling she could ever imagine.

“And then Aelin fell in the lake with Rowan.” Aedion was retelling the time both she and Rowan fell from a tree straight into the river nearby. Aedion was laughing so much he was doubling over, almost no sound coming out anymore. Aelin didn’t know if Elide was laughing at the story or at Aedion.

“Why is it always the stories where Rowan and I get fucked up that you all decide to tell?” Aelin grumbled, but she couldn’t help but laugh and smile too.

“Because you and Rowan had a penchant for trouble like no one else I have ever seen, that’s why.” Aelin heard a voice coming from behind her, and even before she could turn around, a huge smile was already on her lips. Standing there, a lot more taller than she remembered, was Fenrys.

“Oh my God!” Aelin screamed, standing up and tossing herself at Fenrys. He laughed and hugged her back, extending another arm for Elide who had also ran in his direction. “You’re back!”

“And for good this time.” Fenrys said and Aelin took a step back to stare up at him. Fen winked at her and Elide. “Ro and I decided to take the last semester in Orynth.”

“Rowan and Aelin in the same college. This will be a sight to behold.” Aedion said, getting up from his spot on the grass. He smiled at Fenrys, both sharing a hug. “Good to see you, Fen.”

Fenrys was going to reply something but Aelin interrupted him. “Where’s Rowan?”

Fenrys pointed a finger to a huge man with a silver head standing near her dad and uncles. “He’s—“

Aelin didn’t even stop to hear what he was gonna say next, tossing her sandals on the grass and running on Rowan’s direction. “Ro!”

Rowan’s head immediately snapped to her, a wide smile on his lips. He was talking something with his dad, but he fully turned to Aelin and took a few steps on her direction. Aelin threw herself at Rowan, her face hiding in his chest. His arms came around her, crushing her with the same force she was crushing him. Aelin’s feet weren’t touching the ground, Rowan holding her up by the hug.

“Oh my god, Ace.” He said, and although her face was against his chest, she could hear his smile. “I haven’t seen you in forever. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” She tried to say, but the words sounded muffled by his chest. He laughed, and she did too while drawing back her face and looking up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He said softly.

“So,” they both broke their staring and turned to nonna standing a few feet away. Everyone was smiling at them, but nonna had be biggest smile of them all. “When are you two going to dance?”

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