#One of the tassels is a fake because when I made one on the first row it looked too close to the next one so I undid it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brokenjere · 2 years

Text

bad in the bones (c.f) (part 1)

an: ok, i think i finally am happy with at least this first part! I've been working on this fic for weeks now, trying to perfect it and be happy with it but it just was not coming together nicely at all but finally, i think i did it. i hope you guys like it, i teased it a little bit a while ago so lmk when you guys think!!

synopsis: after an earth-shattering breakup, yn joins her cousin Belly for their summer trip to Cousins beach.

catch up here

Two months ago, I was throwing t-shirts across my bedroom, tears streaming down my face, screaming at the love of my life. Josh was leaning against my closed door, his arms crossed over his chest and his head hanging low. “I just think we should see other people,” he said to me. See other people. Ha. What a freaking cop-out.

“Just tell me you don’t love me,” I yelled at him. I threw his ACDC shirt that found its home inside of me closet. It was one of those mass-produced t-shirts from Target. I bet he had never even heard an ACDC song before. He was fake like that, it was one of his least desirable traits.

“I do love you, but we’re about to go to college and I think we need to, I don’t know, spread out wings.” I scoffed and slammed the closet door shut, the framed photos of us I had hanging on the wall shook from the pressure. I grabbed it, looking down at our smiling faces and I threw it in the trash. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Seriously.”

Josh didn’t stay long after that, probably would rather be seeing other people than being screamed at by his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, of three years. We spent all of high school together but somehow, college was just too much. I think he just didn’t want to go to Columbia together like we planned and never applied like he told me and needed a cheap excuse to get out of it.

I went to prom stag and alone with only my best friend, Mallory, on my arm but she had her own date. Lucy. Lucy was the picture-perfect girlfriend. I bet she wouldn’t lie to Mallory or break up with her a few weeks before prom and graduation and the end of their high school experience. I bet Lucy would have at least waited until after. Not that I wanted Mallory to be dumped. I was bitter, sure, but she was still my best friend.

Graduation didn’t treat me much better, either. My mom didn’t even bother to show up which would probably bother any normal kid but I was used to my mom never being home. At least this time, she was away at work with an actual excuse. I hated that I watched Josh shift in his seat down the row from me. I hate that my heart still fluttered when I watched him walk the stage and flip over his tassel and smile at the camera and I hated that I wanted to see his parents photo dump of the day. He had good parents. Solid ones that showed up.

My aunt Laurel showed up, though. Mostly because Steven was graduating, too, but I like to think she wanted to watch me walk the stage as well. She clapped really loud and stood up and hooted and hollered and I couldn’t help but laugh at her and my younger cousin, Belly. They made me feel happy and whole and complete. I didn’t even glance in Josh’s direction.

The four of us went to get ice cream after, Steven and I in our caps and gown and Belly in her little summery dress and Laurel, always too dressed up for the occasion. “We did it,” Steven sighed as he sat down next to me at a little table outside of the ice cream shop. “Thank god.” I laughed and we cheered our spoons together and dug into our ice cream. That was when Laurel asked me to join them on their annual summer trip to Cousins beach right smack dab in the middle of Cape Cod.

“Your mother will be gone most of the summer anyway, and we don’t want you to be alone,” Laurel said, reaching out and grabbing my hand over the table. I knew she meant well but what was I? A pity case now that I was dumped, borrowed, and bruised? If Josh never left, I bet she wouldn’t be asking me this. “Come with us, it’ll be fun. It’s Steven’s and Conrad’s last summer before they go off to college, too. What do you say?”

I looked over at Belly. My Belly. While Mallory was my best friend, Belly was like my sister. My mom was always the bad sister. The flaky sister. The one that left her kid alone all weekend while she ran off with her new boytoy of the month. She wasn’t always that way, though. My parents got divorced when I was a freshman in high school and I hadn’t seen my dad since. I was too young to be let in on what was a disaster of a marriage, but judging by my mom’s early mid-life crisis, it was probably bad. They got married too young. Had me too young. Maybe if me and Josh stayed together, I’d have ended up like her, too.

I spent a lot of time with Belly growing up. Even though she was a year younger than me, it never felt like she was that much younger. There were moments, like when I got my period and her eyes widened when I told her. I ended up having to confide in Aunt Laurel because Belly got queasy at the thought of blood but at least I was able to give her a tampon when she got hers in the middle of gym class in the 6th grade.

Her face lit up while Laurel waited for my answer. Steven shrugged, not really caring too much if I said yes or no. I think secretly he wanted me to agree because he caught my eye at the last second and gave me a micro-nod that maybe no one else would have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do it,” I finally conceded. Belly clapped and hugged me over the table. My tassels dipped into my hot fudge and I laughed as Belly profusely apologized, handing me napkins to wipe it off. “It’s fine, Bells. Not like I’m ever gonna wear it again.”

She turned red and looked back in her ice cream and Laurel squeezed my hand once again. “We leave next week, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

That’s how I ended up here, in the Conklin’s station wagon, listening to Belly’s music and bad signing and holding on for dear life as Steven drives. “I can’t believe you let him drive,” I whisper to Laurel as we sit in the backseat. She laughs and waves me off.

“Belly turn that down,” she tells her daughter. “We’re almost at the gas station.” Belly does as her mom says and Steven listens to her directions on how to get to the gas station. Belly explained to me earlier that every year they stop at this same gas station, stock up on snacks for the last half hour of the drive and get all the essentials that you can’t get in the small, fancy town of Cousins. “Cousins is for the rich,” she said to me.

The first person I meet in Cousin’s is a gas station employee who looks far too old to be working at a gas station and certainly not rich. He checks out Belly and I as we grab our Diet Coke and Cheetos, his eyebrows churning up in interest.

He looks like he belongs in the city, not the beaches of Cape Cod. Maybe he’s a summer kid, like the rest of them. Neither my mom nor Laurel grew up particularly wealthy. My mom got lucky marrying my dad, who was a coding genius and got a fantastic job right out of college and was able to provide anything and everything we needed or the first fifteen years of my life. When Mom realized the marriage was going down the toilet, she got her own job that took up too much of her time and when she finally had enough saved, we left. The Conklins weren’t Cape Cod rich, either, Laurel just got lucky by finding her person in Susannah Fisher who was Cape Cod rich.

Belly looks like she recognizes him maybe just a little and says, “he lives a few houses down from Susannah’s. The boys hang out with him every once in a while.”

I eye him up from the chip isle as he counted money behind the register. I guess he wasn’t that ugly but he surely wasn’t my type. My type was tall boys with floppy hair and terrible personalities. Apparently. “Are you guys friends?” I ask her. She shakes her head and looks at me with disgust, her nose crinkled up so far her blackheads were popping out. I laugh.

“No. Maybe Jeremiah and Conrad consider him a friend but he’s always been kind of weird around me,” she says. “I never really fully fit in with the boys, especially not now that they’re older.”

Her life in Cousins has always been something Belly kept mostly to herself. She tells me stories here and there and I hear from her a couple of times over the summer but other than that, it was strictly for her and the boys. Just the way she liked it. I feel guilty for crashing their party but how can I say no when Belly was looking at me with all that hope.

“Well, he’s eyeing you up now,” I tell her. She glances over at the boy behind the counter and blushes a little. “Is that a little red I see, Conklin?”

“No,” she insists, shaking her head as she grabs a bag of Cheetos. “Let’s go.”

We walk up to the counter and set all our stuff down. The boy's name tag reads Jumper. That’s a stupid name. He smiles at us and says, “Belly, you’re back.” It was a statement, not a question. Belly’s back. The world is right.

She nods and he looks over at me. “That’s my cousin, YN.” Belly tells him as she fiddles with her fingers, eager for him to get the transaction over with.

“You guys should come to my bonfire tonight. You know the one, Belly. The first of the season.” He looks at her and she looks down at the counter and I interject.

“We’ll be there.” Her head shoots up to look at me just as Laurel comes up behind us. She grabs Belly’s ponytail and twirls it around her finger as she deposits a mound of snacks on the counter. Chips. Soda. Candy. “Did you pay?” She asks, looking at the counter. We shake our heads and Jumper starts scanning. Everyone is quiet while Laurel is around.

When we go to leave, he says, “see you guys later.”

“What’s later?” Laurel asks once we’re outside.

“Nothing,” Belly tells her quickly. Quick enough to dismiss her but not quick enough to make her less curious. Laurel doesn’t say anything, though.

She hands us the snacks she bought and tells us she’s going to run to the bathroom and once we’re alone I tell her, “yes, yes, oh my god, yes we should go” but she keeps waving me off because Isobel Conklin is not a partier.

She is a quiet, keeps to herself, too scared of her own body, heart, and soul, kind of girl. She is my opposite and that's why I love her.

She is the good to my wickedness, the sunshine to my rainy day, the angel sitting on my shoulder. She’s all the things that my mother hoped I would be and all the things she resents that I am not.

She sits in the front seat and I sit in the back while we wait for her brother.. She pulls down the visor and looks at herself in the mirror. I lean forward and say, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Nobody has hit on me before like that.”

“What do you mean? You’re hot.”

“I guess he’s never hit on me like that before,” she clarifies. He meaning Jumper. “Not that I want him to.”

“Because you’re waiting for Conrad Fisher, right?” I laugh as she blushes again. I grab the band that’s holding her ponytail in place and pull it out of her hair, letting her long brown hair cascade her shoulders. I shake it out for her and then say, “you’ll get him this year.”

Anyone that knows Belly Conklin knows that Conrad Fisher is the man of her dreams. I’ve never met him, but Belly talks about him like he’s the sun. Like he created the entire solar system just for her to look at. It made me want to know him. I wanted someone to create a solar system for me, too. Josh never created anything for me, let alone the entire universe.

Once Steven gets in the car, he starts driving again. Belly and I sing at the top of our lungs to the bad radio tunes. Steven can’t turn the radio down quiet enough. The quieter it goes, the louder we get. Laurel just laughs next to me in the back and I use my Coke bottle as a microphone, handing it over to her to sing. She just laughs harder and shakes her head so I take it back.

It feels like only minutes until we’re at the ocean. I can smell it through the window and taste it in the air. I hope that it’ll be enough to drown out all my darkness.

The second, third, and fourth people I meet in Cousin’s are the Fishers. The infamous Fishers. Susannah, Laurel’s best friend from college, and her two boys: Conrad and Jeremiah. It was like meeting a figment of my imagination. All the stories Belly has told me throughout the years finally have faces.

Susannah is a lot prettier than in the photos I’ve seen. She has a smile that made my core feel warmer than the East Coast sun and she hugged me so tight I felt like I was gonna burst open. She’s nothing like my mother described her: snotty, stuck up, spoiled, rotting my sister to her core.

All my life, she has talked about Susannah as if she was the plague. Stay away from her, she warned whenever I brought her up. I always thought she was the prettiest woman I have ever seen. Her blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and gorgeous smile. Laurel would tell me and Belly stories about her whenever I slept over and Belly used to talk about her with more admiration than she talked about her own mother. I think my mom was just jealous. That her sister had a person that wasn’t her. That her person was fun and exciting and had more money than my mom and Laurel ever grew up with. That my mom never found her person.

Jeremiah is blonde, like his mom. A curly, blonde mop on the top of his head with a freckled smile and bright blue eyes. He twirls Belly around in a hug, happy to see her just like everyone else. When he sees me, he smiles like he has known me his entire life and gives me a hug. “Belly’s told me so much about you,” he says. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Really?” I ask, peaking over at Belly. She shrugs as if she was being caught. I thought it was sweet she talked about me when I wasn’t around.

“Of course!” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and brings me over to where Steven was standing. While Jeremiah and Steven talk about throwing Belly in the pool, another boy who I assume is Conrad, walks into the driveway.

Belly is immediately enthralled with him, as am I. He’s tall. His dark brown hair flops over his eyes and he uses one hand to push it out of his line of sight. He stops when he sees her and then I have to look away because Steven is talking to me. “What?” I ask.

“Are you gonna help us with the Belly flop?” He asks, looking at me expectedly. I nod, not really understanding what they were saying until all three boys were grabbing Belly by her flailing limbs and carrying her to the backyard. I followed, half laughing and half gawking at the house I’d be staying at for the summer.

The house is big, and white, and has a huge front porch. The windows are massive and the backyard has a giant pool that Belly was about to get tossed into. I run my fingers along the lounge chairs on the patio, the metal warming my skin. The splash in front of me hit my face and I wipe it with the back of my hand and laugh as Belly pretends to have hurt her ankle in the water. I can see the smirk on her face from over here but Conrad must think she’s serious because he reaches his hand down to her and as she grabs it, she pulls him into the pool making another splash of water. As they struggle under the water, Jeremiah and Steven lose interest and talk amongst themselves, slowly walking away. “Wait,” I say, making Steven turn around. “Show me around?” They both smile and nod and I follow them inside.

Susannah lets me pick whatever room I want. There are at least three spare bedrooms not in use and I grab the one with the nicest view of the backyard and ocean. I can hear the waves crashing through the open window. I unpack my bags, tossing them all in the big white dresser on the opposite side of the room. The mirror on top was bigger than necessary and more clear than my own eyes and suddenly, I see how dark the circles under my eyes were. I don’t even remember when the last time I slept through the night was. Most of them I spent staying up, crying and wallowing in my own self pity which is an embarrassing thing to admit which is why I never told anyone. I tell Mallory: I’m fine, screw him I’m over it. I hope he sleeps with every girl in the city and finds what he’s looking for. Truthfully, I hope he’s so miserable and alone that he crawls all the way to Cousins beach on his hands and knees and begs for me back just so I can tell him no.

I almost want to crawl into the bed, soft as a cloud, and sleep until the sun comes up and the birds chirp. Instead, I head downstairs where Laurel, Susannah, and Belly are in the kitchen. Susannah is drying Belly’s hair with a towel at the kitchen island and Laurel is unpacking the groceries we picked up on the way there.

“Laurel, your girls are gonna give all of Cousins a run for their money,” Susannah says. “They’re both so beautiful.” I smile and take a seat next to Belly at the island. “They both look just like you.” Susannah smooths down my hair with one of her hands and smiles at me, winking.

Laurel smiles at both of us and comes over to me, kisses the top of my head, and then twirls her finger through Belly’s wet hair. “Don’t let that get to their head,” Laurel says. I see her wink at Susannah as she brushes her fingers through Belly’s hair.

“Do you have enough groceries there, Laur?” Susannah teases. I look at all the food that Laurel unpacked already and the full bag she has sitting on the counter still. We kind of went a little crazy in the grocery store, grabbing all the sweets we could find and throwing them in the cart. Belly told me her mom never says no on their annual Cousins shopping spree. It was true, Laurel bought every single thing we put in the cart.

“It’s not like your little fancy market in town has Diet Coke,” Laurel says as she puts the two cases we got into the fridge.

“We’ll get some good muffins in the morning,” Susannah says. “I’ll send Connie to town.” The good muffins I had heard about. Belly boasted about them every summer, sending me artistically crafted photos of them before she devoured them a few seconds later. “They are the best muffins in the world,” Belly always told me.

There were a lot of traditions that happened over the summers that would all be brand new to me and part of that makes me feel left out as if I was the odd man out, tagging along for a little adventure while this was their life. I never had the good muffins. I didn’t know what movie Belly and the moms watched every year on the first night. I didn’t know there was the first night of summer bonfire. But all these details were their normal and I sank into the chair, trying to disappear.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher rec #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #tsitp conrad #the summer i turned pretty imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader

565 notes · View notes

mxvladdy · 4 years

Note

HI I LOVE YOUR WRITING! aaa sO I don't know if you still accept prompts but if you do could you do one with MC being fascinated by the brothers' demon forms and seeing the brothers react to them carefully inspecting their horns/wings/tails??

AHHHHH I love that you love it! And of course! :) Horns are my weak spot lmao. Hope you like!

Lucifer

Hmph. Isn’t ecstatic about you wanting to nose around in his business at first. No matter how touched starved he is, just the thought of your tiny human fingers exploring him…Well on the other hand-

At first, he thought you had some weird fetish for his demonic form. Wouldn’t be the first time a human had. But slowly he realizes you are genuinely just enamored with him. It strokes his ego sky high.

He loves it when you stroke and pet his horns. The bases of which are super sensitive. The amount of time you have spent just looking at the gold-tipped bone, he is certain you probably have memorized the number of chips and notches in them.

You start bringing ornaments and tassels for his horns. Things you made or found pretty when out shopping. He doesn’t wear them in public but likes it when you put them on him in private.

It takes him longer to let you get your hands on his wings though. Looking at the mess of his back isn’t pleasant for him.

He has a dust bath. He loves dusting, and when you help him. Ugh-it’s like his own little paradise.

He teaches you how to preen and find broken feathers to pluck. Your cooing over his soft feathers just makes him fluff up more.

He shows off his horns and wings just a touch more in public now.

Mammon

Hells yeah you can see his demon form. Why wouldn’t you want to? He is absolutely delighted to have you lovin’ all over him. He’s big on scenting.

He is especially proud of his wings, in all his forms. Leathery or feathery, they are his favorite part of his body. They are strong, reliable, and fast if he needs to protect you.

He makes sure you are extra careful about his horns though. The spirling columns of bone aren’t smooth like Lucifer’s and have a wicked sharp point on the tips. His horns grow a lot faster than his brothers. A lot of his horn upkeep is him shaving them down and oiling them.

You take delight in doing that for him. The keratin of his horns flakes quickly so you like to help with that too.

He doesn’t have much feeling around his horn area so you won’t get too many reactions from him. Now his wings~

He gets a kick out of watching you open and close his wings. You are mesmerized by his leather wings stretching to their full wingspan.

His wings look fragile upon closer inspection. You can feel the beats of his hearts through the thin membrane stretched over black bones. It almost makes you forget that you’ve seen him bludgeon demons to death with them before.

You’re so enamored with his wings you miss how flustered he gets when you trace your fingers around the base of his wings. Right where the limbs attach to his back. It’s a very tender spot that hurts most times when he touches it, but maybe because it’s you it feels really good.

Leviathan

He is apprehensive to have you inspect him at first.

Doesn’t have wings and is kinda jelly. But he has a bitchin’ tail, and you remind him often of it.

His tail is strong. A lot stronger than you originally thought. You can feel the slide and pull of thick muscle underneath his leathery skin when he swifts around.

It took you a while to get him to understand you are 1000% ok with his tail and horns being out, in public or private.

He notices that you can't keep your eyes and hands off his tail. While he never does it in front of his brothers he loves to pick you up with it. Your giggles and gasps of awe, while you dangle above him in his secure grasp, brings a huge smile to his face.

He has the most strenuous care routine out of all the brothers. His tail sheds a lot and dries out easily. It is usually a very intimate affair. Lucky for you, he likes you.

He shows you how to use his dry brush to sluff off the dead skin from his tail and scaly parts of his back. It's therapeutic to him. He talks about his newest hyper fixation while you brush and pet his tail.

His horns are a bit more persnickety. They are made up of a delicate ecosystem of coral and sea vegetation. It’s a beautiful vivid array of purple, pink, and blues. Henry and schools of smaller fish make little homes in it when Levi is in his tank.

It has to be kept moist and landscaped or it gets overgrown. He has a knack for aquatic horticulture and gives you a chance to learn too.

It naturally changes size and color based on the Devildom seasons. Your favorite displays are during the warmer seasons.

You buy little tank ornaments to decorate his horns to post on devilgram from time to time. It gets so many likes he gets so excited.

He wears your work proudly, even if it’s not up to his usual standard. His water monster brethren are jealous of the attention, and that’s what matters most.

Satan

If you bring up your interest in a scientific or educational manner, he is more willing to share. He has had far too many run-ins with witches and humans vying for him to be comfortable flaunting his demon form.

As the only born devil out of the group you have to be extra careful with his horns and tail. The bony structure of them is like fine sandpaper. Rough, course and far too abrasive for your tinder human skin.

You have to wear gloves when handling his horns and tail. He apologizes a lot about it. It angers him that he is the one brother that has to be so careful around you.

You really don’t mind though. Even through the thick leather gloves you feel the pulsing heat of his magic. You like the tingling feeling of his magic through your gloves, it’s like licking a battery.

He doesn’t need maintenance on his horns and tail as much as the others. But his horns do fall off like deer antlers.

He gets really irritated when it’s shedding season. The itching and throbbing of his horns when they are ready to fall off is maddening.

You always know when it is horn season due to the deep gouges in the stone walls around the house. You help him though this by scratching around the bases of his horns. It feels so good to have it scratched, and it’s 10x better when it’s not him.

Normally he would just dispose of his horns when they fall off or use them for alchemical purposes. Now, he gives some of them to you. You collect them and have turned a few sets into some lovely pieces of art in his opinion.

Asmodeus

Very much like Mammon- who wouldn’t love his horns and wings? He loves them, so obviously everybody should.

Absolutely eats up your praise and curious touches. He shows you the best places to pet or stroke.

His wings are leathery like Mammons but 1000x more sensitive all-round. He can sense air currents with them, so sneaking up on him to touch a wing is out of the question. As much as you would like to.

Loves see you try though. Will fake being surprised when you come at him from behind to lovingly touch a wing.

He shows you the best places to touch and examine his wings and horns. His smaller set of wings have this one spot underneath their pit that is super ticklish. When you find it, exploit it. He has the best laugh.

He admits to you that he dyes his horns. What can he say? Pink is the best color and his horns just look that much more fabulous in it.

You can convince him to try different colors, but only if you help him dye them. Starts matching colors and outfits with you and his horn color of the month.

His cleaning and maintenance routine he likes to do himself. Sorry! Nothing against you, but he is too meticulous to ask for help. But please stay and watch!

He shows off a lot more when cleaning and moisturizing his horns and wings. Stretching them out, or making sure his horns are shiny enough to catch the light of his room.

Absolutely soaks up for enamored gasps and wide eyes stares.

Beelzebub

Just shrugs when you ask to see his wings and horns.

Of course, he doesn't mind you touching them. He just finds it odd. Kinda forgot that it's not a normal occurrence in the human realm.

He has no issues with you touching or rubbing on his horns. He doesn't have any feeling in them anyway.

But, unfortunately, you can only look at his wings. The cuticle is very fragile so he can't just flare his wings out whenever he feels like the others.

You find the hard casing that protects his wings just as fascinating though. The iridescent sheen of it is mesmerizing. Your eyes can't pick up all the colors that it gleams, but it's still beautiful regardless.

You have a hard time getting any of the shell bits when they shed. Beel normally eats them and he is much faster than you.

But he will temper himself and save a few for you once he figures out why you are pouting.

His paper-thin shell casing resembles stained glass when you hold it up to the light. You have taken to making a large wind chime out of the shedding of the brother's horns and wings. His chitin is the perfect addition to give the slightly macabre piece some color.

He-and the other brothers find it kinda odd that you collect essentially garbage to them, but they chalk it up to a weird human quirk.

If it makes you happy-*shrugs*

Belphegor

Like his twin, doesn’t get the hype around it. But, if it means you’ll be spending more time with him then he won’t complain.

You pet his tail a lot when he is sleeping. His tail is soft and fluffy. It wraps around you while he slumbers, locking you in place by his side.

He wakes you up by tickling your nose with the tuft of his tail. He teases you when it makes you sneeze.

If you thought his bedhead was bad, wait till you see him struggling with the tangles at the tip of his tail.

You offer to help comb it out. Maybe even convince him to invest in a good bottle of conditioner. He takes you along to buy it and lets you choose the scent.

He has a penchant for cucumber and melon scents when it comes to his detergent and pillow sprays so you keep to that realm.

He cannot express how much he doesn’t care about upkeep so if you want to brush his tail and examine his horns go to town, means he doesn’t have to do it.

Belphie gets addicted quickly to you doting on his form. He sleeps harder and better after a session with you brushing his tail or rubbing at his horns.

You’ve learned just how to massage his scalp and where to scratch around his horns to help him fall asleep. He doesn't realize he does it himself as a self-soothing mechanism until you bring it up one night.

When you hit the sweet spots at the base of his tail or horns he can’t control the twitching and movements of his tail.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #Obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me requests

1K notes · View notes

shiftingshiftingshifting · 2 years

Note

I guess I need reassurance this isn't fake. I did everything right, I had the perfect mindset, I manifested ect ect and I was so confident and then I woke up in my CR AGAIN I just need reassurance from another shifter that ill actually shift some day. It's been 2 years and I'm so unmotivated after waking up here again

well there’s no way for me to *prove* it to you, you’ll just have to trust me when i say it’s 100% real. i, myself, have minishifted multiple times. the first, i didn’t open my eyes, but i heard the faint yelling of my then dr brother, and felt rough grass beneath me as i laid down. the second, i was doing a guided meditation and had the urge to open my eyes, so i did. i was faced with a moonlit chamber(bedroom) at the castle my party and i were using as a hotel basically. the third i woke up in my bed in my dr, in probably the most gaudy and extravagant room i’ve ever been in. it was just like gold everything. my walls had gold leaf my dresser had golden handles to match the hardwood, the posts and canopy tassels on the bed itself was also gold. my maids were preparing a beautiful deep blue gown. but i had simply woken up tired, and gone right back to sleep. the fourth was to a completely unexpected reality, it was very close to my life here, but in chicago(irrc), i remember a guy friend i had, he had long ginger hair that always covered his face, but his nose was large enough not to be hidden. he played the electric guitar, and left an amp in my room at all times so he didn’t have to lug one over when he wanted to play. we went to a party, i remember all of the stains and tack holes on the walls, the hosts had taken everything down for the party, probably so people wouldn’t steal. i remember he liked vodka and i like wine, he poured himself two cups of smirnoff vodka(i don’t drink anything other than wine here, so i really only remember what the bottle looked like, but i remember the brand was smirnoff) and i nursed one cup of red wine(from a juice dispenser thingy, yk the things they have the tiny tap and it’s like a pitcher). i remember we went on to a balcony to meet our other friends, and by god she was the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen. she looked kind of like alice pagani, and i remember she was wearing the sweatshirt she always wore, it was grey and had tattered sleeve end thingys. i don’t remember much from the shift, just various mental images really, because that’s how my memory works even here. and this was months ago. i do have one other memory, when i shifted back here, me, my guy friend, and the girl were sitting on turned over plastic moving crates and cinder blocks(made into a makeshift “couch” thing without the back, but like we and a bunch of other people, maybe 7 or 8 total were all sitting there) and we were talking and hanging out, but i didn’t say much, i was just taking in the beauty of the moment. it was sunset, and i remember golden hour looked so beautiful on the girl i was friends with face(unfortunately i don’t remember her or anyone else’s name). that was the moment that i decided to shift back, as i felt my time there was enough, and i was happy with what i had experienced. it didn’t really fully sink in that i had shifted until i came back here and sat up straight almost immediately in my bed. oh! also one more thing, i did know i had shifted while i was there, i thought it was a dream at first but then i walked out of my room to pour myself a glass of water or something and i remember the tile was cold on my feet. so i did know, and was obviously excited, it just didn’t sink in until later. i estimate that i was there for about a day and a half.

#long post!!!#sorry for the block of text #and also sorry that i didn’t really tell you all about this shift when it happened #early early november of 2021 #i think the third?#shiftblr #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting motivation #shifting stories #shifting storytime

35 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Pink Handcuffs

┌───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.7k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ] smut

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : switch!shouto, power play, bondage (cuffs), temperature play + food play, teasing, 69, begging, praise, baby/master dynamics, squirting, and a little aftercare <3

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : The only time you can tame your pro hero boyfriend is when he’s bound beneath you in pink, fluffy, quirk-cancelling cuffs.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : sooo u guys always are requesting sub sho, and i finally delivered hehe. this is my first time participating in a Sewer collab, ty to the mods who have been so sweet & welcoming to me even tho i’m shy and don’t talk too much 🤍 also i’m so sorry this is late, my bf decided to take me on a surprise vday trip!

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i actually think white chocolate is the inferior chocolate but i wanted it to look like cummies bc that’s hot soo… yeah this is the only acceptable situation to eat such an abomination imo ☺️

└───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the ravioli you ordered, nor the appetizer that preceded and the dessert that followed. If anything, each dish was divine in its own respect— as they should be, coming from perhaps the most exclusive, romantic restaurant in the city. Especially on an occasion like today. But the thing was, you didn’t harbor much of an appetite for such luxuries. Not when your boyfriend was casting heart eyes directly at you all night, not even batting an absurdly long eyelash at the longing gazes of the other restaurant-goers.

You were hungry, alright. Just… for something else.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The leather of his loafers had been slowly rubbing against the exposed top of your foot throughout the meal, your heels not offering you much protection from his affectionate game of footsie. He had the nerve to reach across the linen tablecloth and lace your fingers with his, playing with them as he leaned in and allowed the flickering candlelight to wash his face with a romantic, warm glow. Ever the gentleman, he had offered you a spoonful of his risotto, and when you had returned the outstretched offering of your own meal, he locked eyes with you and allowed his tongue to wander out to caress the cutlery before he closed his lips around the silver, two-toned eyes glinting dangerously. You were sure your cheeks turned a temperature high enough to achieve the perfect sear of the wagyu on his plate.

It was criminal for him to be acting like this. To be giving you his undivided attention, to be looking at you as if you had hung the moon and all the stars. As if you were the moon and all the stars.

And for him to have shown up in such a devilishly handsome ensemble— a dark, charcoal suit with a crisp dress shirt, rolled up so that the lean muscle of his forearms was exposed to your ravenous eyes. The muted turquoise tie around his neck only made his left eye jump out at you, something he damn well knew you were defenseless against.

But it was that smirk that really got you going. That satisfied little curl to his perfect, pink lips. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was going to be inside you in just a matter of time, however long it took for the pair of you to finish eating and get back to his apartment. And he thought he was going to ravish you as usual— and there was nothing wrong with that, really— you loved when he had his way with you. However, that wasn’t what was going to happen tonight. Tonight, he was yours, and he was going to be completely at your mercy.

So you let him have his fun at dinner. You let him fluster you and play with you, let him think he surely had the upper hand.

Because it would be that much more fun for you when he finally realized what he was in for…

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

You sat on the edge of the cloth sectional, upright and on guard as you awaited Shouto to return from the bathroom. Half of you had expected to be pressed against the wall the second you entered the premises, smothered in a passionate kiss and his hands messing up your styled hair. Instead, he’d taken the time to pour you a drink and freshen up from dinner, promising to return in a moment before he disappeared down the hallway. Little did he know, he had given you the perfect opportunity to hide your surprise underneath one of the couch cushions— the fuzzy, pink pair of handcuffs completely concealed underneath one of the many pillows that littered the area.

The music from the sound bar across the room was low and pleasant, the melody soothing to your frayed nerves. Your fingers played with the tassels on the corner of the pillow behind you, busying yourself as you allowed another gulp of wine to coast down your throat. This would be your first time… taking charge, so to speak, in your relationship with Shouto.

The dynamic between you was equal back and forth in all other aspects except for your sexual relationship— although sometimes he managed to sneakily pay for more of your dates than you liked to admit. You were still getting your footing as a couple, still in that unbelievable, all-consuming honeymoon phase where the pair of you were so obsessed with each other that your heart felt like bursting whenever his lips pressed against yours. So, taking this step— leap, rather— was quite a bold move.

Shouto returned from down the hallway, a gentle smile turning the corner of his lips upright. You could smell the cologne that wafted off of him as he moved to sit beside you on the couch, his arm naturally reaching out to lay behind your shoulders, allowing his warmth to spread and seep into your side.

“Would you like to watch something, love?” he inquired.

It was unfair of him to look that good while he was just asking you a simple question.

You fake-pondered the suggestion for a minute, entertaining him as the lust in his gaze only increased by the second. “Hmm… not really,” you replied honestly. “I kind of had something else in mind.”

He mirrored you as you tipped back the rest of your glass, setting the thin-stemmed crystal to the side. “Oh?”

His voice had dropped an octave, his eyelids drooping as you watched the salacious intent sharpen within his brilliant irises. It was almost too much, being the target of his desire— it made you forget for a moment that you were the one taking charge tonight. Only for a second, though.

“Yeah,” you whispered in the most wanton tone you could muster. You scooted closer to him, pressing up against his side fully, and placing your hand on his far shoulder. That took him by surprise, if the flicker of the emotion across his features was any indication. It was gone as soon as it came, but that was fine— you were just getting started, after all.

Shouto’s eyes met yours as your hand trailed up to cup his jaw, your heavy gazes locking just before your lips captured his. He was still for a moment, savoring the feel of your lips on his before he pulled you closer to him, his arm wrapping tight around the small of your back. It wasn’t long before the innocence of your initiation melted off, and his tongue greeted yours as you parted your lips for him. He tasted like the confection you had split for dessert, mixed with the tang from the wine you’d both just downed. His sweet tongue was a welcome flavor, brushing against yours as his hand moved to caress the back of your head. Time seemed to warp as you drowned each other in kisses, and you found yourself almost losing track of your plans once again. But you forced yourself to remain conscious of the situation— managing to take off his shirt and tie, revealing his sculpted torso to you.

Knowing that Shouto was just as consumed with the kiss as you were, you took the opportunity to sneak the handcuffs from underneath the cushion, balancing them on the top of the sofa skillfully. He sighed as you let your fingers slide through his silky locks, his breath hot on your slick mouth before his lips covered yours once again. Then, you trailed your nails down his forearms, grasp tightening around his wrists and pressing them up beside his head. You peeked at him through low-lidded eyes, reassured when you saw his eyes were shut and brow scrunched— seeming to enjoy your little power play, completely oblivious. A thrill struck through you as you swiftly transferred his wrists to the awaiting fluffy cuffs, the telltale click too fast for him to realize what was happening, for both his hands were secured in the device in under a second.

Shouto stiffened, his body jerking as he tried to move his hands to your sides. His eyes snapped open, looking to you in confusion before he glanced at his wrists, the pure shock blooming on his face, plain as day. You moved in to kiss the soft skin on his throat, taking the chance his surprise gave you as the wheels began to turn once again in his brain. Once he seemed to recuperate, his jaw hung open as he tried to find the right words— any words, really. But your lips on his neck only slowed him further, your hands slipping up to rub at his chest while you continued your ministrations. He tried to say your name in admonishment, but you crawled onto his lap at that exact moment, and it turned out sounding more like a moan instead.

“What… what is this, love?” He finally managed to ask, his voice deliciously low and gravely, rumbling against your front as you shamelessly pressed your body against his. He tipped his head back as you sucked at the skin beneath his jaw, holding in another moan while he inspected the cuffs further. “Where did you manage to get these?”

He was, of course, referring to the restraints around his wrists. He was right to question it— the cuffs around his wrists were the very same ones he saw on the daily, thanks to his profession. They were of professional grade— high caliber, quirk-canceling cuffs— identical to the pair that laid in the pack of his hero suit in his bedroom closet. He tried to activate his ice just a little, but wasn’t surprised to find his powers did not answer his request.

You stirred your hips around his lap, causing his attention to return to you instantly. His gaze grew more desirous as he inspected you, your insides fluttering with a quiet relief that he seemed into the whole charade. “I have my ways~” you replied vaguely. There was no way in hell you were going to bring up how you had to beg your friend Bakugou for months on end to get your hands on a pair of these babies. You could tell him that later, when your sexy-time was over. Instead, you kissed him again, brushing his corded neck with your thumbs on either side, cradling his face the way you knew he loved so dearly.

Shouto dropped it immediately, not wanting to push it when you were grinding on top of his lap, taking the reins and smothering him with your soft, sweet lips. “They’re pink,” he managed to observe, his breath getting choppy as you stole all of it away.

It was true, the cuffs boasted a fuzzy, pink material around the insides so that the restraints wouldn’t be so harsh against his pretty skin. The color looked simply divine on him, a perfect mix between the two shades of his hair. You had hot-glued the plush cloth to the cuffs the other day, and while it seemed like a ratchet method, it was the only way you could get the damn things to stick.

“They are pink,” you confirmed, brushing your lips against his ear, your teeth gently scraping on the outer shell. “You wanna know what else is pink?”

His hips bucked and his strong thigh pressed against your core through your clothes, pleasure shooting through you at the sudden stimulation. He answered without hesitation, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

You smiled at his honesty, confidence leaking into your veins from his agile reply. “Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider showing you.”

His eyes rolled back as you pressed down harder onto his lap, his slacks now forming a rather tight looking tent at the front, which you took full advantage of rubbing yourself against. “Please show me, Y/n. Show me what else is pink baby, please, I want to see…”

There was no way you weren’t going to oblige after that, so you smirked to yourself and got off his lap, moving to stand before him. Shouto scooted forward slightly, his legs spreading to showcase the length trapped between them as his eyes burned into yours. You took your time fiddling with the back of your dress, sliding the zipper down and then carefully slipping the garment off your shoulders and down your hips.

“Fuck.”

And there went the eloquence he was so renowned for.

Shouto’s tongue wandered across the bottom of his teeth as his eyes flicked up and down your body, taking in how the pink lingerie clung to every dip and curve on your body. The pure lust on his face made another wave of confidence surge through you, and you turned as you stepped out of the dress, making sure to shake your ass for him a little as you bent over.

“Get over here and take these off.”

You looked back at him, a mix of amused and aroused at his sudden change of inflection. He didn’t sound all that complacent now, his voice deep and demanding— the one that you were accustomed to whispering nasty things into your ear while he rearranged your guts.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

His brow rose the quickest you’d ever seen, the surprise evident on his face yet again. “Excuse me?” he balked.

You stood upright and turned to face him, unapologetic and unafraid as you stalked closer to his sitting form. Spreading your legs so that you were straddling him, you leaned into him, your face was right in front of his as you whispered, “I said, I don’t think so, baby.”

If he tried to stop the shiver that coursed through his body, it didn’t work. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply as you rubbed yourself against his lap, your cunt dampening the lace that separated your core from his slacks. Your hands crawled down his torso, taking your time to knead the taut muscles that lined his front. When you reached the top of his slacks, you smirked and thumbed over the well-kept trail of red and white that disappeared underneath. You helped him maneuver so that he was rid of the luxurious clothing, leaving him only in a pair of boxer briefs that looked rather tight at the moment. His cock was visible through the dark material, a long and thick temptation to stray from your agenda.

“One sec,” you nearly giggled as you ran over to the kitchen, taking the bowl you had prepared when he was in the bedroom earlier from the microwave.

Shouto watched you from the couch, still trying to devise a plan to get out of his restraints and take his revenge on you. But that all slipped away the moment you returned and stooped to your knees in between his legs, and he could see what the contents of the bowl in your hands was, exactly. It looked like… milk?

As if you could read his mind, you drizzled some of the melted liquid off the spoon and onto your finger, offering him a taste. Like he had done in the restaurant, he made sure to keep your gaze as his tongue curled around your finger, lips closing and sucking the food in question off. His eyes lit up at the distinct sweetness, his mouth following your digit slightly as you pulled it back.

White chocolate.

You laughed to yourself, happy that he seemed interested— his cock jerking against his thigh when you took a spoonful and began to drizzle it over his chest. It was hot, the chocolate molten so that you had to trace over the lines you made swiftly with your tongue, ensuring it didn’t harden and stick to his skin.

Shouto started moaning as you licked up and down his body, watching as your pink muscle trailed around his body, all the while avoiding the one area he really wanted you to pay attention to. A dark spot had started to form at the tip of his cock, and he was painfully hard.

You suckled at one of his nipples, a spot which you knew he was especially sensitive to. He groaned as his head fell back against the cushions, rutting up against you with measured precision. It was hot having him under your complete control, having him squirm and moan beneath you, desperate for your touch. You were sure your panties were drenched by now, there was no way you weren’t with the way he was looking up at you.

Finally you moved your attention to his thighs, his ass moving off the couch instantly as your fingers curled into his underwear, dragging them down his legs and depositing them onto the floor. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock, looking full and beckoning. The fucsia tip was engorged and shining with precum, evidence of his arousal that glistened in the low lighting and left a thin path down the length of him. The cool air of the room must have felt intense for him, for his length reached forward on its own, begging for your touch.

Shouto said your name lowly, gravel in his voice as he watched you eye his cock. He damn well knew that you were thinking about how good it would feel to just slip your panties to the side and press him inside of you, how amazing it would be to have him stretching your cunt with his cock. He was sure that he would slip right in, too— he didn’t have any doubt that you were wet from teasing him like this.

You kept his gaze as you spooned around the outline of his flushed member, from one thigh to the other, along the bottom of his abs and over his prominent V. The fire in his eyes only ignited further as he watched your tongue move across his skin, the white liquid pooling against the muscle and gathering in your mouth. His cock strained as it tried to reach for you, wanting for you to milk its own white liquid from it instead of the melted chocolate. Then, you were climbing onto his lap again, offering the melted candy to him while you gripped his shoulders.

His tongue met yours with enthusiasm, sweeping off the chocolate and collecting it into his mouth. You moaned as he eagerly took the liquid from you, taking his time afterwards so that his tongue mingled with yours, enrapturing you in another kiss. Once again his hips jerked up against you, his cock dragging across your clit through your lingerie. You tried to scowl at him, but it felt too good and you ended up letting out a soft mewl instead.

Shouto looked pleased as the noise slithered out of you, his arms straining to reach for you but the cuffs stopping him from doing so. He growled at the restraints, the short chain clinking as he fought against it futilely. “Y/n, please,” he huffed, irritated. “Just take these off and I’ll reward you.”

Shaking your head, you gyrated across his lap again, eliciting a groan from him. “What if I just take the reward for myself?” you purred, getting up and pushing him down to lay back onto the couch.

He was about to object when you slipped your panties down your thighs. Voice caught in his throat, he watched a strand of slick stretch between them and your cunt before he shut his mouth and leaned back, complacent. He seemed to understand what you wanted, keeping his arms still above his head as you slipped your legs between them, then planting your knees beside his neck. He clicked his tongue at your demand, but he didn’t wait long before he split your folds with it instead.

You could feel him smirk against your cunt when you moaned, the direct stimulation strong enough to make your toes curl already. The position allowed him to cup your ass with his hands, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he moved the skilled muscle to trace along your clit. He switched between kissing the bundle of nerves and sucking on it, savoring the way your legs began to shake on either side of his head.

All the while, you busied yourself with kissing down his chest, slowly getting closer and closer to his cock that was leaking onto his toned stomach. You didn’t bother with the chocolate any more, and you didn’t care to tease him either— you wrapped your hand around him and took the head into your mouth, moaning as your lips pulled tight around him.

“God— so good, baby” Shouto gasped, throbbing in your hand as his fingernails dented the skin on your ass. He moaned into your pussy, pushing his tongue inside your entrance and moving it feverishly against your velvet walls. His hips drove up and you gagged around his cock, which only made him pull your body tighter against his face, working harder against your cunt. The pre helped him slide into your throat easier, your spit beginning to drip down his length as you struggled to pace yourself, head bobbing as best you could.

He continued to slurp at your entrance vigorously, even with the restraints making it hard for him to hold onto you. You could feel his smooth hair tickling the insides of your thighs as your hips swung back and forth over his mouth, your fingers cutting shallow grooves into his thighs as you slid his length along your tongue.

“Fuck, just like that,” you paused, saliva shining on your lips as you glanced down at Shouto, his tongue rubbing at your clit with steady licks. You took a moment to enjoy the view, his chiseled jaw protruding as he ravaged your sex, having abandoned any defiance he previously harbored. You luxuriated in another minute of his sensual efforts before you moved your hips back, carefully taking your legs out from between his arms and moving so that Shouto was sat upright, and you were hovering over his lap again.

A silvery sheen covered the bottom half of Shouto’s face, his eyes blazing into yours as he wiped his chin with the back of his cuffed hand, then licking his lips. Even if you were the one in charge here, he knew how to rile you up, and he certainly knew how to deliver as well. You just didn’t expect for him to try to fluster you.

“Did that feel good, Master?”

You sputtered at the sudden title, eyes wide and body still while you lingered above his lap, his hard cock grazing your slick thighs. Your mouth hung open as you tried to formulate words, the shock evident on your face. “I—”

Shouto seemed charmed by your lack of response, your brain still buffering as you tried to process what he had just called you. He raised his cuffs over his head, settling into the couch while he thought he had managed to snag the upper hand from you.

Like hell you were going to pass him the reins.

“That felt so good, baby,” you purred, enjoying the shock that suddenly appeared in his vibrant irises. You dragged your hand down his chest, fingertips bumping over one of his rose-colored nipples. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His cock smacked against your thigh, your eyes glinting down at him as his body betrayed him in his fleeting attempt to hide his response to your praise. Suddenly the mischievous look in his gaze had dissipated, melting into longing instead. He seemed confused by the sudden change of emotion, but you didn’t give him long to contemplate it— you lightly drew your nails down his abdomen and grasped his cock, a startled noise sounding from his throat. Tracing the swollen head against your slit, you doused him with your arousal, teasing the pair of you as you dipped the tip just barely inside before rearing back. You half expected him to thrust up and sheathe himself inside of you, but he only laid there beneath you, watching your core glide against his length in assent. His legs twitched with the urge to feel your silky cunt around him, but he remained still, athletic thighs strained while his hips wiggled just barely. His eyes widened as you turned around, presenting your bare ass to his gaze and allowing your cunt to part, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his erection.

“Aha—” he sucked a breath in through his grating teeth, brow furrowed and gaze focused on where your bodies connected on his lap. “Please Y/n…”

You looked over your shoulder at him, catching how his pupils were dark and full of lust. There was nothing you wanted more than to stuff him inside you already, but you had to hear him utter it one more time before you allowed the both of you to sink into pleasure. “Please, what, Shouto?”

His gaze lifted from his lap to meet your eyes, full of desire. He whispered, this time much more shameful than the last, “Please sit on my cock… Master.”

You smirked, straightening your hips over his, arching your back, and sinking down onto his awaiting length. Impaling yourself with his cock always hurt at first, the girth of him stretching your sopping core like nothing else— no one else— could. It was impossible to stop yourself from crying out, agreement coming from Shouto in prefect harmony. The cuffs clinked as his hands flew down to grab your waist, awkwardly placing them on your lower back as he couldn’t grab you as he desired, thanks to the pink, fuzzy restraints.

“Good boy~” you moaned, ass jerking back to swing your hips down onto the tops of his solid thighs. There was a ridiculous amount of pleasure that coursed through you with each rut of your hips against his, beginning to find a rhythm as the lewd smacks interrupted the soft music humming from the other side of the room. His cock jumped in response to your praise, stretching to press into a spot nestled deep inside your gummy walls.

Shouto watched you shiver through hooded eyes, feeling your cunt clench down onto him as your hips pushed down to get his cock to press harder inside of you. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned, head tossing back over the back of the sofa, a long moan following.

“Oh God,” you whimpered, knees pushing into the cushions so you could find an arch that allowed the very tip of him to relocate the same angle, again and again. Your slick started to drip down your thighs and onto the tops of his, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. You felt like your stomach was on fire with how turned on you were— having him at your complete mercy made your cunt tighten around him, lust clouding your head.

One of your hands moved behind you and planted on his abs to help leverage your weight as you bounced on his lap, the other hand sneaking between your legs to toy with your neglected clit. Shouto whined when your fingers touched the sensitive nub, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter at the stimulation. It felt amazing to rub yourself with his cock plunging deep inside of you, your slick bountiful enough to spread across your clit and aid your efforts.

You kept up the pace, your thighs beginning to tremble as the pressure in your stomach continued to heighten. All the while, Shouto was moaning from beneath you, trying to hold his noises of content back, but failing each time. His large, rough hands trailed up and down your spine while you humped his lap, the metal of the cuffs a sharp contrast on your skin from the soft, pink cloth you fixed onto them.

“Slow down, love,” he choked out, the words heavy in his throat. There was no way he was going to last at the pace you were setting, not after you had handcuffed him, sucked him off, and started throwing your ass back onto his lap. You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that if you ignored his plea he was going to cum too soon. “Wait—” he whined when you got off his lap, standing up and turning around, letting him watch as you unhooked your bra.

You didn’t make him wait long, though. Your knees sank bank into the cushions on either side of him, but this time, your front was facing him. Shouto took in the sight of your naked chest gratefully, taking it upon himself to slip one of your nipples into his mouth. Guiding his wet cock back between your legs, you exhaled as you lowered yourself onto him again. Teeth grazed across your chest, your fingers winding through the short hairs at the back of his neck and carding through them. The new position allowed him to reach new depths when you fully sat on his lap, your toes curling at the edge of the cushion. You rolled your hips in slow and precise circles, grinding his length inside of you brazenly.

Leaning in so that your teeth could pinch at his bottom lip, you forced him to look up at you, savoring the fucked-out expression painted across his handsome features. “Fuck baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” you whispered, lips trailing across his cheek so that you could nip at his ear and test your newfound discovery another time. “You’re such a good boy, Shouto~”

Pure euphoria crashed through you as he bucked his hips up, slamming his cock balls-deep inside of you. You knew that you were supposed to be the dominant one right now, but it was impossible to keep the moan his action induced inside.

“Anything for you, Master,” he grunted, a sinful crackle in his tone as his tongue traced over your collar bone.

It didn’t help that his voice was so damn deliciously low— he was already sexy enough on his own. But when he had you all to himself, he stepped it up another level that none could ever imagine existed— the side of him that was devoted to your pleasure, the side of him that was dedicated to pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body until you were left boneless and breathless.

Shouto began to bounce you on his lap slightly, meeting you each time your hips fell down so that he could push entirely inside of you every time. You didn’t want to let him take over just yet, but his hips never seemed to tire, even now when yours began to tremble with exertion. That familiar pressure was back and building again, faster than last time in between your hips. Shouto was well aware of your declining energy, his hands cupping your breasts and thumbing over the hard buds on each one, the cuffs digging into your middle with each thrust.

“Take the cuffs off, Y/n,” he murmured, fingers twisting at your nipples gently. Then he started to suck a hickey into your cleavage, his cool breath making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“No,” you gasped as you dropped particularly hard onto his cock, silky inner walls spreading especially deep as his length pressed inside of you. “I can’t— have to make you feel good —agh, fuck!”

He flashed you a short smile, huffing as you continued your efforts on his lap. “I feel good when you feel good,” he replied, pinching at you harder, relishing the sweet moan that tumbled from your open mouth. “Please, I’ll behave, promise.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else from him, leaning back and swiping the key from underneath the book on the coffee table— where you had stashed it when you hid the cuffs in the first place. As soon as the cuffs were off, Shouto tossed them to the other side of the room, the pink restraints clattering as they landed somewhere on the floor. His hand immediately gripped your waist, fingers spreading out across your lower back, and tilting you back slightly while he leaned forward, thrusting up into you with fervor. The other hand made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling it so your throat was exposed with your head thrown back.

The sudden change in angle elicited a pathetic mewl from your chest, his cock hammering into your g-spot at such a pace that you were instantly brought to the brink of an orgasm. You clung onto his shoulders for dear life, his head buried in your neck while he sucked his mark into your skin, the wet, quick slaps of your fronts meeting repeatedly echoing through the apartment rhythmically.

“S’That feel good, Master?” His tongue trailed up your throat and he nibbled at your ear, just as you had done to him just minutes ago.

You could barely think, your cunt pulsing as you got closer and closer to cumming right around his cock, your fingernails digging into the thick muscles that lined his shoulders. “Y-Yes, fuck— so good— such a good boyyy~” you cried, tears gathering to dot along your lashline, your body overwhelmed with the ecstasy rushing through your entirety. “God, Shouto— I, I’m gonna—”

“Do it, love,” he ordered, hands dropping so that each cupped an ass cheek, spreading your legs even more so that each thrust was ensured to drive as deep inside of you as possible. He could feel your pussy clamping down on him, squeezing his cock hard enough that you must’ve been right on the edge, just needing that extra little push. “Please— ahh fuck, I— I want you to cum on my cock. Cum for me, Master.”

That was all it took for you to be creaming on his length, your body quivering in his hands as your cunt fluttered with bliss. It felt like the world was crumbling away and that Shouto and you were the only two people on the planet, like he was pouring oxygen into your veins just as you were about to run out of breath.

As you were still in the throes of your orgasm, Shouto maneuvered you so that your back was pressed up against the top of the coffee table in front of the couch, falling to his knees and throwing your shaking legs over his shoulders. The bowl of white chocolate and the magazines in the corner of the table fell down onto the hardwood floor, but neither of you were paying attention to the sound of the ruckus.

He began fucking you then, his hands clasping your thighs so that your body stayed close enough for him to slam his hips into yours without mercy. “Fuck Y/n, you’re so sexy, look at you, baby,” he hissed, taking a moment to examine your puffy cunt, spitting on it crudely before a thumb began to rub at your clit earnestly. “I’m your good boy, huh? See how good I fuck my Master?”

“Oh God— oh, fuck Shouto, yes! Don’t stop!” you exclaimed, and somehow, even though you were still cumming from before, another pressure started to build in your stomach, gathering faster than you could comprehend.

A heightened euphoria rushed through your nerves and tickled at the ends of your limbs, different from before. You whimpered when you realized what was happening, but by then it was too late to warn him— Shouto was pounding into you relentlessly, and his thumb steady on your clit only made your high arrive even faster. A strangled moan slipped out of you as clear liquid splashed across his abdomen, your body shivering and convulsing as it struggled to handle the pleasure he delivered to you. You had certainly orgasmed before, but this was as if the pleasure you had felt increased tenfold, leaving you truly wrecked and exhausted.

You were still squirting as you came to, and when you were finally able to look at him, you watched as he stroked his slick cock with ferocity. His eyes were focused on your soaked thighs before they closed and he groaned deeply, ribbons of white spurting past his hand and splattering across your breasts and stomach. His palm slapped onto the tabletop beside your waist while he hunched forward, out of breath as pleasure wracked through his fit body, the muscles that lined his torso heaving while his pink cock throbbed in his hand.

Your head fell back onto the table as you recuperated, shocked that he had just made you squirt all over him, and then he proceeded to cum at the sight, painting you white with his spend. Another minute passed and you were still trying to find your breath, coming down from your high, even though Shouto had already recovered from his.

A warm hand cupped the back of your neck, and you opened your eyes, realizing suddenly that you were secure in his arms, moving past the messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. His lips pressed against your forehead softly when he entered his room, your heart skipping a beat in your chest as you took in the dozens of lit candles that lined the walls and windows. It only continued when he turned into the ensuite, the bath filled with cloudy pink water, flower petals floating on the still surface and littering the surrounding tiles.

“Shouto— this is…” you tried to sit up in his arms, but he only held you tighter against his chest. There was a proud look that lingered in his eye, yet he only offered you a soft smile as you looked between him and your surroundings. No one had ever committed such a romantic act for you before, and you sure as hell hadn’t been expecting such a suave move from your boyfriend of a couple months.

So this is what he must’ve been doing when you had returned from dinner.

“There were bubbles, but someone distracted me and they must’ve popped while we were preoccupied,” he explained, fingers brushing a strand of hair to the side of your face.

“I— it’s perfect, baby,” you chirped as enthusiastically as you could, your body still drained from the exertion of two consecutive orgasms. “Thank you, I love it.”

He hummed as he shifted your weight to one arm, reaching out and activating his quirk to heat the water to the right temperature again. You sat in his arms, satiated and more content than ever as you surveyed his handsome face. Surely there would be hearts in your eyes, with how loved you felt in this moment.

Once he was satisfied with the warmth the water offered, he stepped into the tub, slowly submerging the two of you in the pleasant-scented bath. The warmth flooded into your tired bones, your body happy to be swaddled in his embrace as he held you close. You hummed as you rested your head against his chest, hand coming to rest beside your face.

“How’s the water? Just let me know and I’ll fix it to your liking… Master.”

You scoffed and slapped at his chest, the pink water splashing across his pale skin. He donned a genuine smile at the sound of your laughter, calloused fingers stroking down your spine. “Shut up,” you managed, cupping his neck and pressing a kiss to his throat to show your words held no real intent, “It’s perfect, I mean it. Thank you, Sho.”

Shouto’s smile remained, his eyes soft as his leg curled around one of yours beside the porcelain of the tub. “You deserve it,” he murmured, thumb swiping across your cheek to rid you of a water droplet that had splashed onto you from your attack. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

happi belated vday babes!! <3 once again, sorry it’s late~ I hope you all had a good one tho!! :3 love y’all <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

1K notes · View notes

audreydoeskaren · 3 years

Text

Abridged history of early 20th century Chinese womenswear (part 1: 1890s & 1900s) *improved version

Source here

*I’m fixing and reposting the first two posts of this series because back then I had no idea how Tumblr formatting functioned and they deserve better. I’m keeping the shoddy original versions for archival purposes.

*After some thought I think it makes more sense to group the 1890s and 1900s together.

Other posts in the series:

Part 1: 1890s (original)

Part 2: 1900s & 1910s (original)

Part 3.1: 1920s-silhouette

Part 3.2: 1920s-design details

Part 3.3: 1920s-accessories, hair & makeup

Part 4.1: 1930s-silhouette & design

Part 4.2: 1930s-hair, makeup & accessories

Part 5: 1940s

Part 6.1: 1950s-Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan & friends

Part 6.2: 1950s-mainland China

Intro & context

In order to understand early 20th century Chinese fashion we have to go back a bit into the past to have some clue about the context. When the Manchus conquered China and established the Qing Dynasty in the mid 17th century, Han Chinese men adopted Manchu style clothing but Han Chinese womenswear remained independent and separate from Manchu womenswear. Han Chinese women retained the habit of wearing a two piece ensemble as the outermost layer, unlike Manchu women, who wore a single floor length robe. I will be only discussing Han Chinese women’s fashion in this series.

In the 19th century, Han Chinese women wore 袄裙 aoqun, a two piece ensemble consisting of a robe and a skirt. The robe had a very low 立领, standing collar. In the second half of the 19th century, the robe in aoqun had a very generous and roomy cut and huge sleeves, a look which reached its peak in the 1860s and 70s. The hem of the robe hit the knees, the length in vogue since the 1870s. The collar of the robe is very low, only providing enough space for one button, likewise in fashion since the 1870s. The robe is closed with 盘扣 pankou, which in this era were always plain with either a bead or fabric knot tip. The robe closes at the side, usually at the right side at the 大襟 dajin, the side closure, however examples of robes with closures on the left also existed. Robes with closures on both the right and left were also a thing, a style called 双襟 shuangjin, double closure. Shuangjin robes were derived from a men’s riding vest, the 巴图鲁坎肩 batulu vest (batulu is Manchu for “warrior”), that could be opened from both sides, and would experience a revival in the 1920s.

Source here

1870s/80s photograph of a group of women in aoqun, the two skirts on the left are the elaborate mamian style, the one on the right is plain.

In aoqun, the skirt was usually of a style called 马面 mamian, made of two long horizontal pieces of pleated fabric with two flat sections each sewn to a waistband with one flat section overlapping, creating a wrap skirt that once worn around the wearer’s waist, appears to have two unpleated sections, one at the front and one at the back. This skirt was very decorative in the 19th century, full of embroidery, tassels and elaborate trim, sometimes giving the illusion of a separate apron being attached (I’ve seen this weird stereotype that traditional Chinese womenswear has a separate apron at the front this is complete bogus). The robes were likewise heavily decorated around the seams, ceremonial outfits like wedding gowns could be so full of embroidery that the original fabric is hardly to be seen.

The combination of robe and pants, 袄裤 aoku, was also a common way of dressing since approximately the 1800s or 1810s. This combination would become the norm in the 1890s.

Source here

1870s/80s photograph of a woman in a ginormous ao, roomy pants and with bound feet.

Another noteworthy fad was bound feet. The middle of the 19th century was the pinnacle of foot binding and fashionable women had incredibly small feet, dubbed “lotus feet”. This was achieved by wrapping tight foot binding cloth around the feet since childhood and restricting the growth of the feet, I think also breaking a couple bones in the process. Women wore foot binding cloth and baggy stockings underneath their shoes, tied up with garters below the knees. Foot binding is said to severely restrict mobility and cause intense pain; I don’t doubt the pain part but I’m not sure about mobility since I’ve seen plenty of photographs of women with bound feet roaming about the streets.

Not every woman did foot binding though, it depended heavily on region, class and the individual family. For one, Manchu women all had natural feet. For Han women, an account from the 1850s said that in Beijing, every five or six out of ten women did not have bound feet, and that probability is three or four out of ten in the countryside. In the provinces along the southern coast, most women did not bind their feet (this probably has to do with the influence of indigenous cultures in the south, since foot binding was primarily a Han fashion), whereas in the northwest almost every woman had bound feet. By the way, I really don’t like how articles on foot binding describe it in the most sensational way possible, why is it so hard to approach history with peace of mind? And it pisses me off that all the articles containing 1890s photographs only talk about the foot binding as if there is nothing more of value in portraits of whole ass women.

Anyway, if you are interested in learning more about foot binding, check out Cinderella‘s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding by Dorothy Ko, recommended by @thefeastandthefast . Or just anything written by Dorothy Ko tbh.

Silhouette

In the 1890s, the cut of the aoqun began to become more slender and form fitting, commonly believed to be a result of westernization. But I think it’s also because the wide sleeve look has also been in fashion for quite a while now (some 80 years or so) and people were getting tired of it. The robe inherited the knee length hem from the 1880s but was less baggy and took on a more straight cut silhouette. The collar remained quite low until the end of the decade. Pants were overwhelmingly more popular than skirts in the 1890s, I speculate this may be due to a rising interest in feminism and women wanting more mobility, but aoku was also very popular in the 1870s and 80s in general so it may have also just carried over. The pants were still ankle length and straight cut but less roomy than earlier 19th century models. Overall the 1890s just looks like a shrunken and simplified version of the 1880s.

Source here

The aoku as of the 1890s.

By the second half of the 1900s, the collar began to rise, becoming medium height. This was kind of reminiscent of late 18th century Han women’s collars I mentioned in this post on Chinese standing collars. The robe and pants shrunk further, becoming quite tight fitting. The robe was still around knee length. The pants were especially tight and could be considered skinny. Foot binding became less common and many women had natural sized feet. However, since foot binding is something that begins in the childhood, the fact that many women without bound feet appeared in the 1900s meant that many parents started to reject food binding in the 1880s and 90s.

Source here

Ca. 1907 photograph of a group of women, possibly students, in tight fitting aoku.

Design details

The 1890s saw the mass disappearing of wide, embroidered trims around the seams, popular throughout the 19th century. The use of multiple rows of binding/trim from the 1870s and 80s was continued, albeit in a much more minimalistic and geometric way. I’ve seen a lot of plain white ao finished with multiple rows of black binding of different widths, it’s mighty avant-garde and elegant. Because clothes of the era were still constructed in the older Chinese method, they had a seam down the middle of the sleeves used to extend the length of the sleeves; this seam could be bound and decorated but it was not compulsory. Actual embroidery on the robe and skirt/pants was rare, if not non-existent; completely plain fabric was the norm. The ao of this era commonly had a 厂字襟 (厂 shaped closure), where the front placket is held up by one or two buttons and then closed by more buttons down the side seam. This style of closure was first popularized for Han women’s clothing in the 1800s and 1810s, before that Han women’s clothing closures were a straight line from the collar to the armpit. The pankou used to close the ao of this period became a lot more elaborate and the main source of decoration; I have a whole ass post on them here. A general air of simplicity, comfort and proportionality dominated the fashion of this era. In the mid 18th century, Han women’s robes started having folded cuffs (possibly borrowed from Manchu court dress), called 挽袖 wanxiu, and these became fake and represented by a piece of trimming in the 1850s. By the 1890s this design feature largely disappeared, leaving the sleeve edges either plain or simply bound.

Source here

Three women in aoku, late 1890s. I looooove the look on the far left, I will probably make it some day.

Going into the 1900s, the geometric trims became more simplified and austere, while the pankou became increasingly ornamental.

Source here

Late 1900s photograph. The robe is trimmed with fur and thin, geometric binding, and closed by very ornamental pankou.

Hair & Makeup

There were no significant changes in hairstyling in the 1890s, fashionable women would wear existing 1880s hairstyles but style them with bangs. A common style I’ve seen in photographs was long hair pulled back into either one big bun at the back or two smaller ones at the sides. The short bangs were usually very neat, precisely cut and sat closely to the forehead. Elastics did not exist, so Chinese women used strings and hairpins to tie their hair together. Hairpins of this era were usually very thick and sturdy, a single one was enough to hold all your hair into a bun. It was popular to use flowers and/or pearls to form a ring of decorations around a bun.

Source here

Common 1890s hairstyle, for most people the decorations weren’t so elaborate.

A popular headpiece was this thin headband adorned with pearls worn at the place where bangs should be, although that has been around since the 1870s as well.

Source here

Ca. late 1890s. Some women wearing the pearl headband.

Around 1905 the bangs began to grow in length but still weren’t long enough to cover the eyebrows. They were longer at the sides and shorter in the middle, creating this volume and curve at the forehead.

Source here

Photograph ca. 1905. Long bangs.

By the end of the decade these evolved into a being with a will of its own. Long hair tied into braids or low buns became fashionable instead of tight, high buns.

Source here

Calendar painting from 1911.

Fashionable women in the 1890s wore little to no makeup, because of the influence of female university students who were usually without makeup. In the 1870s and 80s, thick makeup was more common and was a trend popularized by sex workers in Shanghai, thus becoming increasingly considered indecent in the 1890s. I find this quite problematic cause respectability politics suck and there’s nothing wrong with wearing fashion trends invented by sex workers. All the straight male writers of the 1890s and 1900s praising female students for being “pure” and ”hygienic” in contrast to the supposedly nasty sex workers make me cringe to my core, it’s just pitting women against each other and setting us up for “I’m not like other girls” in my opinion.

The common makeup look includes white power, lipstick and blush. The lipstick shape was usually a tad smaller to the actual lips and blush was applied in large areas toward the outside of the face.

Source here

Standard 1890s and 1900s hair and makeup look. This drawing is probably from around 1902, it’s a bit more festive folk art than fashion plate so take the patterns with a dash of salt.

Undergarments

Unfortunately I don’t have many pictures for undergarments of the era but I can describe them to you. Since women commonly wore pants, they would usually wear another layer of pants (could be considered drawers) underneath that was of a similar construction but plain and easy to launder. Panties and such didn’t exist so drawers were the innermost layer, enough to protect women’s private parts. Likewise for the robe, another plainer, sturdier version would be worn underneath. In the mid 1900s, as the sleeves of the outer robe began to shorten, the undershirt became more form fitting at the wrists and could serve a decorative function.

Chinese women in the 19th century bound their breasts with long strips of fabric to achieve the flat look. I’m not exactly sure how this is done but basically you wrap fabric tightly around your chest until the boobies are concealed. A famous undergarment of the Qing Dynasty was the 肚兜 dudou, which was actually unisex. The female only version was called 抹胸 moxiong, 袜肚 wadu or 袜腹 wafu, the latter two are etymologically similar to earlier words for “corset” or “a pair of bodies”. However, unlike what many later 20th century artists would like you to believe, wearing only dudou on the upper body was not legit underwear for grown up women, as it was usually worn in conjunction with breast binders as an extra layer of warmth. It was also worn very tightly around the breasts and waist, not tied loosely like in paintings or period dramas nowadays.

Source here

Dudou diagram.

Shoes

Women began campaigning against bound feet in this period and many drawings depicted women with natural feet. However, if a woman had her feet bound since childhood it’s difficult for them to return to their natural size, so some women who were born in previous decades would still have very small feet, even if they began to reject it at this time. Women’s shoes of Western construction weren’t yet so common so most women wore Chinese style shoes, which were commonly made of fabric and had a slightly upward pointing toe. Women with bound feet would use a long piece of ribbon/cloth to wrap their feet (to maintain the shape) and wear small fabric pumps with a white sole. These could be flat or have a teeny tiny bit of wedge heel, called 弓鞋 gong xie, bow shoes. Women without bound feet would wear normal sized pumps, likewise of fabric, with slightly upward pointing toes and a thick white sole. Embroidery on shoes was a huge thing in the 19th century and before but by the 1890s it started to disappear as well, and shoes in the 1890s were commonly plain. In the 1900s, Western leather shoes were increasingly popularized, but it wasn’t until the early 1910s that this popularity reached its height.

Source here

Foot binding cloth.

Source here

Shoes for bound feet.

Source here

Woman with natural feet wearing Chinese style pumps. Western style knit stockings were becoming popularized in the 1880s for women with natural feet as well.

Some editing afterthoughts

I’ve been looking more into 18th and 19th century Chinese fashion lately and I realized I held some deep rooted misconceptions about the Qing Dynasty. For some reason I always considered the 1870s and 80s look with the elaborate, big robes conservative or backwards, which is really not fair. Chinese women’s fashion was revolutionized in the beginning of the 19th century, going from the flowy, slender robes of the 18th century to stiffer, more structured robes with flared sleeves. Styles also differed dramatically from decade to decade, it’s just not very well studied and there’s a stigma around Qing Dynasty fashion so people don’t get into it as much. Because Han women were allowed to continue wearing Han style clothing into the Qing Dynasty, a lot of 18th century reproduction ensembles nowadays get mistakenly labelled as Ming style hanfu, which really isn’t helping... I was definitely not alone in this though, the perception of Qing Dynasty Han women’s fashion most people nowadays have is: in the first couple years Han women were allowed to wear Ming style hanfu, but then bam the late 19th century look was forced upon everyone. This view is super not nuanced and false on almost every level, but it is extremely widespread and I don’t blame you at all if you also think like this, this was me just two months ago too... A wise woman (I mean Karolina Zebrowska) once said that everything in fashion history happens gradually, which is also extremely true for Chinese fashion history.

I’ve really started to question what modernity in fashion means because the elaborate 19th century Chinese look that white people back then considered the epitome of conservative Chinese clothing was actually new and exciting in the beginning of the 19th century. I can’t help but wonder if this view that Chinese clothing as of the 1870s and 80s was symbolic of Chinese culture’s “backwardness” and “stagnation” was a product of colonization and white imperialists’ efforts to demonize Chinese society and take things out of context. I would prefer to say that Chinese fashion westernized a lot during the 1890s and 1900s but not necessarily modernized because what is modernity. Fashions change and that is the most normal thing on the planet.

If you read what white historians or politicians wrote in the late 19th/early 20th century about Chinese fashion or culture (which I highly recommend you don’t, that shit is detrimental to your mental health), it becomes obvious that the majority of them have no clue what Chinese fashion looked like before the 19th century and how we got to what we had in the 19th century in the first place, so they just assumed that Chinese fashion always looked like that and that we haven’t progressed as a culture in hundreds of years lmao. Bullshit pseudo-Darwinism at its finest. Oh or if you look up 18th century European Orientalist paintings depicting imaginary Chinese characters, the clothes they wore and the hairstyles they had were so far off from what actual 18th century Chinese fashion looked like to the point they felt racist and were uncomfortable to look at. I stumbled across so many of them when looking for 18th century Chinese painting and every time I see one it almost gives me a stroke. So I think it’s really important to acknowledge that Han Chinese fashion of the 18th century is a valid field of study.

In my original 1890s post I said that the elaborate embroidery and trimmings started to appear on Han women’s fashion around this time because of Manchu influence, I take that back because I’ve realized it’s a whack claim. I’ll explain it more when I make some posts on the 19th century later.

Reworked part 2 is coming soon as well :)))

#1890s #1900s #19th century #historic fashion #qing dynasty #vintage fashion #vintage hair #vintage shoes #chinese fashion #chinese history #abridged history of early 20th century chinese womenswear #清汉女装 #edwardian fashion

407 notes · View notes

one-true-houselight · 4 years

Text

Five Times Stan Wondered How Ford Would Feel, and One Time He Didn't Have To

1982

It was weird, being at his own funeral. Stan had certainly thought about faking his own death before, but he'd never had the time, or the ability. It's not often you get a chance to take over your identical twin's life as a cover story.

It was the kind of story he would have told Ford to make him laugh when they were kids. The ultimate twin swap. The thought put a lump in his throat as he stared out at the small number of guests. An uncharitable part of him noted that Ford would probably have had more mourners.

A different, desperately scared and guilty part, wondered how Ford would feel if he was here, at his brother's actual funeral. Would he be sad? Would he remember the good times, or would he just see a broken machine, a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts?

Would he even come?

Stan breathed, trying to convince himself he was simply pursuing this train of thought so he could impersonate Ford more effectively. He hoped his performance was more effective than that effort.

He sat on a bench and reflexively massaged the sides of his hands, where he'd made it look like extra fingers had been removed. To his surprise, Shermie came over and sat next to him. "You doin' ok, Stanford?"

"Yeah," Stan replied, hoping his illusion would hold. "As ok as I can be, I guess."

Shermie put a hand on his shoulder, and Stan kept himself from flinching. People hadn't put their hands on him for much beyond violence in...a while. "I know you and Stanley hadn't seen each other in a while, and it ending like this is probably difficult for you."

Stan shrugged, and thought once again; how would Ford feel right now, if the last time he'd seen Stan had been when he closed the curtain on him all those years ago, and not a brother desperately reaching for him as he disappeared through a swirling portal?

He figured it was wishful thinking when he replied, "I think I was done with anger, at this point. I just wish I had told him how I felt sooner."

1992

Stan was rummaging through the closet when an object fell from between some coats and landed at his feet. He picked it up to find it was a worn, six fingered glove. His first instinct was to drop it, as if it had burned him, but he didn't. He just stared at it for a while, thoughts wandering to the man who once wore it.

He kept holding it as he went back to work, (Stan was never one to stand still for too long), cleaning the gift shop, adjusting an attraction, locking up the earnings, entering the code on the vending machine. As he worked, he wondered what Ford would say if he was here right now. Probably something about scientific integrity, he thought with a snort. '

He wondered if he'd appreciate how he finally figured out a way to make money, if he'd laugh at the times Stan had had to punch something supernatural. It was certainly in character: Ford being the one ready to research and record phenomena, while Stan was the one coming in to punch it, or kick it, or sic a knife-wielding possum on it. They had made a good team. Maybe they still would, if-

No. Thinking like that didn't help, it wouldn't bring him back. To be fair, he didn't know if this would work, as he surveyed the broken portal looming from the darkness. But he had to try. He had to.

He hoped Ford would be proud of him.

1999

Stan sat straight up in Shermie's kids' living room, fingers tapping wildly. When he'd gotten the call, he had run to the PA to close the gift shop immediately so he could pack. And now, after breaking more traffic laws in a day then he had thought possible, he was here, and he was about to meet-

"Stanford, meet Mason and Mabel." His niece and nephew walked in, each holding a baby. His breath caught in his throat. He had known they were twins, of course, he wasn't an idiot, but now, seeing these two bundles with the same face poking out over blankets, the fact hit him like a train.

"Looks like twins-" run in the family, but he couldn't say that. Shermie had agreed (reluctantly) to not mention Stanley to his family, given the tragic circumstances, so the comment would have been nonsensical to them. So he just smiled at his new great niece and nephew.

"They sure do, Stan. Want to hold them?" Stan's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. The babies were handed to him, one in each arm, and he looked down at them, tears in his eyes. Mabel's eyes locked onto his gold chain and she batted at it, entranced at the light bouncing off of it. Mason had a large birthmark on his head, like a constellation, and seemed fascinated by the tassel on Stan's hat.

"Hey there. I'm your Great Uncle Stan," he whispered, his words sliding together a little from emotion.

Their mom chuckled. "Sounded like you said 'Grunkle Stan'. It's usually the kids who give you the nickname."

Stan laughed, startling the babies a little. "You know what, I think I like Grunkle Stan better. 'Great Uncle' makes me feel old."

"Don't tell that to Dad," joked his nephew before standing. "I'll go make some lunch."

Stan made to stand up, but was pushed back into his seat. "You stay with the kids, it's fine."

Stan nodded and looked to the twins' mom, who had fallen into a chair across from him. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged. "Twins are hard, but they're sleeping better than I expected. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were helping each other sleep."

Stan laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised, these two look smart." Mabel looked up at him and blew a raspberry. Mason sat up, then immediately fell forward into Stan's chest. He looked up and smiled, and Stan absentmindedly tapped his forehead. "Quite a birthmark he's got."

"Yeah. Shermie joked that we should call him 'Dipper'. He said it was like calling you Sixer-" She stopped suddenly, blushing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no," said Stan quickly, his hands flitting to the scars on his hands. "I didn't mind that name. It certainly wasn't the worst thing I was called." It flowed easily, saying I. He had been Stanford for 17 years now, after all.

The conversation moved on, the twins crawling over him as he chatted and laughed with their mother. But his thoughts were elsewhere, pushed to a familiar place by that nickname. He didn't know how Ford felt about having his own kids, but he knew he would have loved to be here, to see these kids. Maybe he could give better advice about Mason.

Did he and Ford ever comfort each other, before they even knew what those words meant? Stan couldn't remember a time that he wasn't aware of Ford, a time before that night when they weren't by each other's sides. How would Ford react to see another set of Pines twins? As he looked down, he wished they never lost each other the way he and Ford had lost each other. It was the best blessing he could think to give them.

July 2012

Stan sat in his chair, stunned. That morning, he had followed the sound of excited kids shouting to find that someone had found Ford's old room As he'd walked in, hoping they wouldn't ask him too many questions, he had glanced over and seen them sitting there, as if Ford had left them there minutes before. He had always had a bad habit about his glasses.

With a look at the kids, who were distracted, he grabbed the glasses and shoved them in a pocket, covering his reeling mind with announcing a competition. He made it through the day, not internalizing much. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure there had been something going on with Dipper and Mabel, but he just hadn't been present enough to figure out what. It seems like they were figuring out whatever it was, so he was just left sitting in the dark, staring at a pair of glasses.

He was so close. Was Ford even alive? He had to be. He had been working on this for thirty years, he had to believe that Ford was out there. What was Ford doing right now? Had he found some nerd school? Stan smiled at that, and tried not to imagine the many, many less attractive options.

He heard footsteps upstairs, and he contemplated what Ford would have done that day, with the kids. Maybe he would have had a reasoned discussion with the kids, about boundaries and choices. Or maybe he would have seen his own resentment reflected in those kids' eyes, and…

He had spent thirty years as Stanford Pines, and had slowly weaned himself off of trying to act as he thought Ford would. But even if he hadn't, he would have started now. Because if he couldn't stop the curse with him and Ford, he would not pass it down to Dipper and Mabel. He had to believe that siblings were not doomed to fail, he had to believe that he could help these kids out from a shadow they didn't know they were under.

And even though he didn't believe it, he hoped he could get Ford and him out too, someday. He hoped Ford would want to come.

August 2012

Ford was here.

Thirty years of work, and Ford was in the next room, bemoaning what Stan had done to the shack.

Figures.

"You know, Ford, standing around yelling at the Mystery Shack isn't gonna change anything," he called out. Ford walked into the room, eyebrows furrowed.

"I still don't understand why you had to take my identity," said Ford. "Wouldn't it have been easier to fake my death?"

I didn't know if it would have been fake He shrugged and replied, "Do you know how many crimes I've committed? It was better that way."

"I can imagine," muttered Ford, with more venom than Stan liked, but no more than he expected.

"Hey, you know a lot of crimes were to get you back."

Ford snorted at that, but fell quiet for a moment, staring at his own hands. Finally, without looking up, he asked, "How'd you fake the hands, Stanley?"

"Said I cut 'em off." He held up his hands to show the faded scars, and Ford's eyes widened slightly.

"You gave yourself scars?"

"Yeah. I've got enough of them." Stan did not mention that, as much as these scars had hurt, they had paled in comparison to how he had felt watching Ford get pulled away from him.

Ford stared, almost transfixed, at Stan's hands before abruptly standing up. "I should keep working," he muttered and swept off.

Stan crossed his arms and muttered, "Man, I thought I had been too grumpy as you." He laid back and sighed. Thirty years he had sat and wondered about how Ford would feel, how he'd react, what he was missing. And here they were, together again, and Stan still didn't know how the man felt. Not really. Yes, the punch had been a good clue as to some of it, but...He didn't know what had happened to Ford out there. He didn't know how it felt to be back. Was he disoriented? Scared? Excited? Overwhelmed?

Damn it, why wouldn't Ford let him help? How could he not see that Stan still cared about him? How much he missed him?

Maybe because you haven't told him, a voice said. Yeah, well, turn about's fair play, Stanford…

He shook his head. He had 'til the end of summer. He could still fix things. If he could fix an interdimensional portal, he could fix his relationship with his brother, his twin, his best friend…

Right?

September 2012

Stan sat on the porch of the Mystery Shack, watching the sun go down. Ford walked out and sat down next to him. "How are you doing, Stanley?"

"I'm fine. Mind feels good. You?"

"I'm...I'm good." Ford took a breath. "I'm sorry, Stanley."

Stan looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Didn't we do this already?"

"Not really. I may have apologized for certain events, but...I never told you that I'm grateful, not really. After everything you've lived through, all the things I caused, you gave your life over to bringing me back. You sacrificed your mind to save me, to save the world. And I never, I could never acknowledge before now how good a person you really are."

"You really don't need to do this, Ford, I know how cool I am-"

"No, you don't. Stanley, you think that you have to act like this to make up for something. I let you think you needed to fight for redemption after that science fair, and you've been fighting your whole life, never understanding that you are enough. I just want you to know that people see you, that they know you're a good person. The kids, Soos...me. You deserve to know how I feel." There was a pause as Stan gathered his thoughts, but then he started laughing. Ford furrowed his brows. "I'm not joking, Stanley. You are worthy of love, and-"

"No, no," said Stan, putting a hand on Ford's shoulder. "I...you're right, I don't have the best self esteem, but that's not it. I've spent 30 years wondering how you'd feel, what you'd do. And now, now I finally know." A single tear streaked down his face. "Thank you. I really think I needed to hear that."

Ford pulled him into a hug. "I only wish I could have told you sooner." At that, they both started crying in earnest, and Stan knew he finally knew how his twin felt.

Like him, he felt love.

#stanley pines #ford pines #stanuary #angst #BROTHER BONDING #STAN BEING SCARED #also Stan meeting baby dipper and mabel #it's also on AO3 I don't know how crossposting works lmao #gravity falls #i write sometimes #is this good?#maybe?#but we're having fun here

146 notes · View notes

galloperthompson · 3 years

Text

Regarding Galloper Thompson’s clothes

Including his (slutty, thigh high) boots

It’s been brought to my attention that galloper’s slutty thigh high boots actually look like ankle boots with the thigh high part tucked into the boot. So I’ve decided to go beyond my jokes about him being a slut anyways and make this post going over his clothes. And buckle up folks, it gets long.

I’ll be honest, it’s pretty difficult to find details about 13th century (and 12th century) Scandinavian life specifically, especially since I’m using google. For this post, I have just used general European fashion, but in the future I’ll be mixing viking things with general European things from this time (but I’ll mostly try to keep the general European things to German and English/Irish stuff). I’ll also be referencing things from both the 13th century and the 12th century, since galloper “lived” during the early 13th century (and every website seems to think the 13th century started in 1250).

But anyways, an English knight from the mid 13th century apparently wore something like this on his bottom half (underneath other layers):

Now as you can see in this terrible quality picture (sorry about that, but I did try to label it), the hose are thigh high just like galloper’s leg coverings, which is what gave me the idea that maybe it’s hose he’s wearing. So let’s begin.

I would explain the whole system they used, but this does it better than I could (you only need to read until it starts talking about chausses since we’re only talking about the hose). The linked text is a bit weird and may (or may not) be unreliable, but it’s compact, explains things well, and has pictures (it’s where I got that *stunning* photo I labeled). However, keep in mind that it depicts a mid 13th century English knight, and galloper is from early 13th century Scandinavia, so while there may be similarities, there’s also definitely differences in how he would’ve dressed. Braies were apparently longer in the first half of the 13th century, for one, and didn’t really become “underwear” for everyone until the second half and later. Hose were also referred to as stockings, and apparently hose and stockings didn’t really refer to different things until later on. Additionally, clothing differed between class, but we’re not going to go over that today.

So how does this relate to galloper? Well his lower half actually sort of resembles the picture above, doesn’t it? His “hose” are thigh high, with ankle high shoes over them, just like the picture. Despite the similarities, though, there are differences. His “hose” aren’t pointed, and so there are no ties for them. Apparently, hose didn’t have to be pointed, and those thigh high hose that weren’t pointed were held up with pins.. but there are no pins to hold them up either. Without one of these mechanisms to hold up the hose, they would not stay in place. And considering we can see where the thigh high part ends, we should also be able to see at least part of what’s holding them up. The thigh high part could also theoretically be “leg bandages” that extend above the knee. However, his “hose” don’t look like wrapped or crisscrossed cloth, they look solid, so leg bandages are unlikely.

Now, I wanted to present hose as an explanation based (somewhat) in history, but I don’t actually think he’s wearing hose. We’ll go over why later in this post, but let’s keep going for now.

On to his tunic and coat. Well I say tunic, really it isn’t a tunic by medieval standards. Back in the 13th century, tunics didn’t have buttons—at least not on the front. And his coat.. well it’s not something you’d find in the 13th century. Longer coverings, down to the knee or lower, were the style then. Shorter coverings with buttons down the front didn’t appear until the 14th century in the form of things like doublets. Those “things” were usually very padded and form-fitting, however, and neither galloper’s shirt or coat seem to be padded or exceedingly form-fitting at all.

The history of gloves (in everyday wear, at least) is surprisingly complex, so I won’t be touching his gloves. I’m also ignoring his belt because I don’t have much to say on it, but they did have leather belts with “single-looped” buckles (whatever that means) in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Moving on to his cape. Ah yes, his tattered little cape (which matches his mare’s tattered little saddle blanket!). Who knows why the fuck he wears it. There doesn’t seem to be a hood (like the medieval chaperon) or a part that comes around to cover the shoulders, and it’s too short to be a cloak. My best guess is that it was a design choice based on the fact that such a short cape doesn’t need a fluttering animation. Why not axe (lol) the whole idea of a cape? Well, all the coolest characters have capes!

His weird ass shoulder pad I can’t come up with an explanation for, though (or at least a medieval one). If he had a neck, the shoulder pad would be digging into it based on the position. Maybe it’s supposed to be like those shoulder pads with tassels on some formal military uniforms (technically “epaulettes” with “fringe”)? Except instead of tassels it’s feather looking things and also there’s only one shoulder pad for some reason?

All of this is to say that none of what he’s wearing can realistically pass for 13th century clothing, except maybe his lower half, and that’s still stretching it.

His entire outfit actually most resembles military uniforms from the 18th and early 19th centuries, as @inkowl13 pointed out in this post. When he floats, you can even clearly see his tattered coattails, which are his trademark green on the underside. In the case of 18th century garb, his shirt would be a waistcoat (he doesn’t seem to be wearing an 18th century shirt underneath his “waistcoat” at all, but maybe we just can’t see it or distinguish it from his “waistcoat”), and his jacket-thing would be a uniformed soldier’s coat. His lower half would be breeches with either a. ankle boots and over-the-knee stockings, b. ankle boots and thigh high gaiters (those things with buttons that go over the top of the shoe), or c. thigh high boots, which appeared as riding boots in the 15th century and remained common until the 19th century—including in military uniforms (in fact, some cavalry units today still use them in their ceremonial dress uniforms). His shoulder pad would, in fact, be a strange attempt at an epaulet/epaulette (which were used in the 18th century (and beyond) to denote rank) with fringe the color of his trademark green. The fact that there’s only one also makes sense within this period; whether the epaulet/epaulette was on the right, left, or both shoulders indicated rank (Galloper’s “epaulet/epaulette” is on his right shoulder, our left). The issue of glove history is also eliminated since it seems military uniforms in the 1700s made use of gloves. Men’s capes/cloaks at this time went to the knee or below it, so my explanation for his cape is unchanged. Through this lens, things start to become clear.

This is a mannequin (is that what you call the fake models of historical clothing? does mannequin apply in this context?) wearing an 18th century cavalry uniform:

As you can see, he looks incredibly similar to galloper, despite the many differences.

And these are two sets of 18th century soldiers (again, sorry for the less than ideal quality):

On the left there’s a pair of soldiers with over-the-knee boots and on the right there’s a pair with over-the-knee gaiters (see how they go over their shoes). Thigh high boots would make more sense for a horseman, but thigh high gaiters would explain some things about his lower half, like how his boots and the thigh high part are different colors. However, there are no buttons on the sides (like gaiters have) or garters at the knee (like both stockings and gaiters had), and the thigh high part is tucked into the shoe, more like stockings rather than gaiters. In these pictures you can also see how his upper half looks incredibly similar to all four soldiers, again, even with the differences.

Now, unless galloper was keeping up with fashion until the 18th century when he stopped (he gave up I guess? said “fuck that shit” and hasn’t changed clothes for the past 300 years?), he shouldn’t be wearing an 18th century military uniform. Especially since he was shown wearing the same clothes in his execution scene (which I don’t put too much stake in considering the Jarl was in his ghost form and even the soul riders don’t have 2 sets of clothes in game).

So why does he look like this, then? The reason why he looks like a revolutionary war soldier can be traced back to the inspiration used for his design. According to Jorvikipedia, his “...design takes direct inspiration from author Washington Irving’s Headless Horseman from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow...” which explains why he looks the way he does. Jorvikipedia has been wrong before (they list his place of birth as “Jorvik (presumably)” which doesn’t fit with his backstory), but if Galloper’s design was based on the headless horseman of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” (which it very likely was), it would provide justification for the 18th century look of his clothes. Washington Irving’s horseman was, after all, (alleged to be) killed during the revolutionary war in the 18th century.

It’s obvious his upper half is based on 18th century uniform, but the intention behind his lower half remains a mystery. Whether it’s meant to be stockings, gaiters, or boots, I don’t know. Theoretically, his lower half could even have been intended to be hose, braies, and shoes. But considering his entire look and the inspiration behind his design, an 18th century explanation seems more likely (I just don’t know which 18th century explanation, exactly). It would be pretty strange if half of him was medieval and the other half was from the revolutionary war era. Though, I’ll admit, it’s not completely impossible.

My theory for the contradiction between his design and his backstory is that his backstory came after his design. The 18th century look of him, along with his inspiration, and the lack of medieval elements in his design all make a compelling case for this theory. The only thing I can think of that may disprove it is his mare’s y-shaped bridle, but even that could be explained if she was designed after galloper, while his backstory was in its first stages of development (I’ll probably do another post on his horse’s tack, since this post is already long, but that’s for another day). But that’s just a theory; the star stable team could very well have just not done any research on 13th century attire, instead modeling his look on depictions of Irving’s headless horseman and adding the bridle as an indication of the origin they had already established for him.

Ok, but what about the rest? The other parts of his and his mare’s designs (color scheme, hanging pumpkin jack-o-lanterns) can be attributed to the fact that he is the halloween event character. Though his color scheme could be inspired by the headless horseman in World of Warcraft, who was introduced in 2007 (I found out about this horseman while looking into other possible inspirations for galloper’s design), all the colors seen on him and his mare (black, green, red, orange) are general Halloween colors. The hanging jack-o-lanterns are not historically accurate for the Middle Ages (or the revolutionary war era, actually) as pumpkins were not introduced into Europe until Columbus “discovered” the Americas, and did not become commonly carved into jack-o-lanterns until the 19th century in America -which was when and where “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” was published (though the pumpkin “head” was not even carved in the original story). I suppose galloper could have developed an affinity for pumpkins (and for carving them) later on (Jorvik seems to have a lot of them), but it’s more likely that they added them (to the keep and his mare’s design) based on modern halloween practices instead of historical halloweens or consideration of galloper’s feelings on pumpkins.

Ok, so we’ve established he’s not historically accurate for the 13th century, but what would his clothes look like if they were actually historically accurate? The answer is: I don’t know! Maybe I’ll do another google deep dive and make a post on that, but for now we’ve come to the end.

All of my information about historical clothing came from sorting out google results, so take the historical bits with a hefty grain of salt (more like a bowl of salt actually). If you have any actual knowledge about history, please feel free to correct me.

#i am planning on doing more of these little deep dives into what life was like back then #a large chunk of this post is a bit of a mess but oh well #sso #star stable #star stable online #galloper thompson #gunnar thrymson #tagging this #googling history #separate from the ‘me overthinking’ tag

22 notes · View notes

vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

mixtape | track eight

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Left or right?”

“Don’t look at me, I never fucking graduated.”

“Right, then you move it to the left,” Lisa offered, attempting to get past Grayson. He was having none of it, sticking out his tongue a bit while he focused on getting Indy’s cap arranged correctly, making sure her tassel was in the right spot.

Indy had passed her finals with flying colors, which came as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Top of the class, which was enough for her to feel a tiny bit proud of herself. The Dolan’s on the other hand, we’re over the moon, ready to celebrate her as if it was the greatest achievement anyone could accomplish. Grayson had picked her up from her last final, coaxing her to take a nap in the truck while he drove them out to Jersey, her head in his lap as she was finally able to relax after so many days of stress. He was glad - he wanted her energy to be high when she got to the house, considering he’d planned out a big family dinner as a surprise. He’d even caved and bought her her favorite non-vegan ice cream. She was so surprised that she cried as soon as she went in and saw Ethan and Lisa in the kitchen with little fake graduation cap headbands on.

Even though surprises weren’t her favorite, he hoped he could sneak in another, considering the real one wasn’t until the next day, and it’s arrival came as a text that buzzed in Grayson’s pocket.

Here!

He cleared his throat quickly, trying to hide his excitement as he stepped back from his girlfriend.

“Hey Indiana, I think there’s something at the door for you,” he said.

She squinted at him in accusation.

“You just called me Indiana.”

“Indeed I did.”

“That’s sus.”

“Just go to the door Dee.”

“Sus.”

“Dee.”

“G.”

“Indiana Jamie Cross, will you please open your door,” he said as formally as he could, knowing it would make her laugh enough to give in.

“If something jumps out and scares me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Holy shit just go open the door before I do it for you.”

She walked slowly but she listened to him, pulling the door open cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were gonna let me in.”

Indiana’s mouth fell open.

“Charlie?!”

Grayson Dolan had learned in the last week that the Cross women were stubborn beings, especially when it came to money. Which was why it took so long for him to convince the older Cross sister to let him buy her and Devin a plane ticket at Thanksgiving.

“We would love to be there, but I just bought the ticket to get out here, and money is kinda tight for us right now. I don’t know if we can swing it so soon again.” Charlie kept her voice down, pretending to look at some of the picture frames on the bookshelf while Grayson talked to her.

“I’ll buy your tickets, both of you, first class.”

“Grayson, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.

“But you didn’t ask. I offered, there’s a difference. C’mon, you know that she’d love to have you there.”

Charlie hesitated, bit her lip the way Indy always did. The back door opened, signaling that everyone was coming back inside and that their conversation needed to end. She looked up at him quickly, eyes darting across the room.

“I’ll think about it.”

It had taken her four days to finally agree and let Grayson send her the money for the tickets, though she insisted on flying coach, sending him back the rest of what he’d given her to cover first class, down to the cent.

Which was how she ended up getting tackled by a very excited Indiana outside her apartment door, so hard that they almost knocked Devin over in a whirl of blonde hair. Grayson caught her cap as it flew off.

“What?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here! I thought you couldn’t come, what the fuck!”

“Ask him,” Charlie laughed, lifting her chin towards Grayson.

She spun, eyes wide and shocked.

“You did this?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the soft eyes emoji right now, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she smacked his chest before she buried her face in it, sniffling.

“Hey, you don’t have to cry, you’ll mess up your mascara,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair before she stood up straight again, letting him swipe his thumbs under her eyes.

Ethan was watching the interaction from the couch with a bit of a frown. He pulled his eyes away and picked at some lint on his henley, but he kept his ears towards the kitchen. There was a tenderness, a careful nature in the way he spoke around Indy. It reminded him of the first time that Grayson had gotten a girlfriend. Peyton. They’d met on the first day of 7th grade, in science class, where Grayson didn’t care to pay attention, especially not with Ethan and the prettiest girl in the grade at his table. Ethan had teased his brother relentlessly until he finally got his words handed back to him when she actually agreed to a date - which involved him picking flowers out of his mom’s window box garden (he got in trouble for it later) and hiding them under his jacket when Sean dropped him off at the movie theatre. They’d kissed each other during the end credits, with tongue according to a very excited Grayson who came home and plopped himself on his brother’s bed and spilled every little detail. Ethan was single at the time, so he could only listen, and watch. Watch the way he carried her books for her to class and then sprinted to his own with only a few seconds to spare before the bell. Watched him beg his mom to dye his hair blonde when Peyton said she thought it would look cool. Watched him pass her notes all of class, not caring when Mrs. Patterson took one and read “I love you so much, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” in front of the whole class that included the majority of his wrestling team. And, he watched the pain on his face when they stumbled across Peyton kissing Jacob Bates behind the bus when she thought Grayson was at wrestling practice. He tried to keep it together, but he sniffled his way through Lisa dying his hair brown that night. Ethan had tried to cheer him up with his usual tactics - stupid inside jokes, making fun of Cameron, even making fun of himself. But Grayson didn’t laugh.

That was when he knew his brother loved hard. He was halfway convinced the reason that Grayson was the bigger twin in the womb was because of the size of his heart. That being said, it wasn’t unusual for Ethan to watch his brother be kind, and sweet, and loving to his girlfriend.

But there was something different with Indy. It was the first time that he could look at Grayson with a girl and see Grayson - unfiltered, unaltered. His twin brother, in his full form, not having changed a single aspect of himself to fit another person. And it made him happy. So happy that for a moment he was able to ignore the guilt that started to rush over him as he remembered all the things he’d said, about how their relationship wouldn’t work, and how Grayson needed to address it. It made him feel worse that he knew he was still right, no matter how in love his brother was.

In the kitchen, Charlie was flicking through settings on her camera.

“I know we have to leave soon, but we have to get at least a few pictures before you get all sweaty cause you get sweaty when you’re nervous,” she said, grabbing her sister’s arm and leading her over to the windows, positioning her with the right lighting.

They took a few normal portraits, some with her cap and some without, a few candids where Charlie did her best to make her laugh as Grayson watched on, the proudest smile on his face.

“Alright, I want one, I want one!” Devin chimed in, surprising both the Cross sisters. They turned to him with the same expression that had him laughing so hard he held his chest. It was the loudest sound that any of the Dolan’s had ever heard come out of him, but it was contagious enough to have them all smiling.

“What?! It’s not every day my little sis graduates college!” He teased, going to ruffle her hair but thinking better of it at the last minute, instead choosing to wrap her up in the biggest hug, her face adorably squished in the picture that Charlie captured.

After that, it was a revolving door of poses with everyone. Lisa fixed Indy’s hair for her before their picture, and Ethan stole her cap and wore it himself. He offered to take the camera, thankful for Charlie’s settings that seemed to work magic as he took a few cute one of the duo, even a few with Indy on Charlie’s back. Devin joined in and they recreated the shoot from their engagement party that Indy still had on the top shelf.

By the time it was Grayson’s turn, Indy’s cheeks were sore from smiling. But she couldn’t help but beam at him as he waltzed over to her in his dress pants and button down, all dressed up for her big day. She did her best to ignore the click of the camera as Grayson fixed her cap, moved her honors cords so they were even where they hung. They took the normal formal poses, and Grayson stole Ethan’s idea of borrowing the cap. But Indy gasped when he tossed it to the side and scooped her up bridal style, laughing as he held her tight and kissed her cheek, even dipped her a bit and looked up at Charlie for the photo op. Indy put it on her mental to-do list to get them printed as soon as she could, beyond excited to see them once Charlie sent them over.

“Okay, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” Lisa said, making sure everyone had what they needed for the short walk to the university. Everyone layered up, but while Grayson disappeared in search of his dress coat, Indy pulled her sister aside.

“Hey um. Did… did Dad talk to you at all this week?”

Charlie’s face melted into pity. “I’m sorry bubs.”

“No it’s fine, it’s no big deal. Didn’t expect him to, I just wanted to check so I didn’t get blindsided or anything if he showed up.”

Charlie just nodded and gave her a small smile. She didn’t tell her little sister that she’d told Kenneth about her graduation - four times, actually. He’d never responded, though she could see that he’d read them. Charlie was so used to making excuses for him that she had a whole list of them backed up. He had to work. Traffic. He wanted to come, but something came up. But when she looked at Indy, who wasn’t so much her little sister anymore, she bit her tongue, put her arm around her and headed out the door.

The ceremony was in the science building. John Clark University didn’t have anywhere big enough to house the entire graduating class, so they opted to split it up into smaller ceremonies by discipline instead.

“It should be pretty quick actually, there’s not a ton of us,” Indy said when they arrived, looking over her shoulder at all the graduates moving to get checked in and lined up.

“We’ll wave when you come out so you can find us!” To Indy’s surprise, Lisa’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Li,” Indy smiled, pulling her in for a last minute hug, trying not to get emotional herself at the fact that a woman who had no obligation to love her cared so much.

“Don’t trip,” Ethan grinned, nudging her shoulder to lighten the mood.

She turned to Grayson, kissing him quickly before she finally headed off, looking back a few times before she disappeared around the corner.

“Okay seats, seats, we gotta get good ones!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately leading the group through the rows - it was a massive lecture hall with the flip down chairs Grayson had only seen in movie theatres and movies. When they finally found five seats together, he found himself wandering what it was like to be in class somewhere so big, with so many other people learning the same thing.

Despite feeling like they were running late, there were plenty more graduates and families that filed into the building, taking their seats and patiently awaiting the procession.

Thirty minutes later they finally began to file through, a straight line of black robes and red and white tassels. Charlie spotted Indiana first, with Grayson a millisecond behind her, both of them standing up to wave until she saw them and waved back. He kept track of her as she went to sit down in her row, kept his eyes on her as best he could while the main speaker began his speech. He didn’t care what he had to say - he only had eyes for his girl, who looked back every so often and offered him a little wave that still had his heart fluttering like they were hiding in the curtains of Emma’s room all over again.

Grayson hadn’t experienced a lot of moments of pride in his lifetime. There were a few he could pinpoint - when Ethan won one of their wrestling tournaments in middle school, when their team won their lacrosse championship. When his mom’s salon won best in the city a few years back, when his sister graduated college. But what he felt in that next moment topped every single one.

The dean of the college of sciences asked everyone to hold their applause, and without any prior consulting, Indy’s entire squad ignored the rule.

“Indiana Jamie Cross. Bachelor’s of Biological Sciences. Summa Cum Laude.”

“WOOOOOO, YEAH DEE!” Grayson yelled it at the top of his lungs, not even noticing the way everyone turned to look at him. He could see Indy’s blush all the way from the stage as they all continued clapping until the next person was called.

For a moment he was afraid she was embarrassed, but when she took her seat again he saw her turn around and blow him a quick kiss. He caught it in the air and threw her a wink, excited to get to her to give her a real one, which was exactly what he did when she finally made it out of the stream of people at the end of the ceremony. Everyone’s hearts melted when he spun her around and planted one on her.

Charlie took a few more pictures of her with her diploma before Grayson spoke back up.

“Alright, coffee’s on me!”

It seemed to have gotten somewhat colder outside as the wind whipped around the buildings, and Indy curled into a much warmer Grayson as the group headed down the sidewalk. He moved his finger to her palm.

P-R-O-U-D-O-F-U

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her blush almost warm enough to soak through his coat.

But it was nothing compared to the redness that spread over her cheeks when she walked into Jets.

“HAPPY GRADUATION INDIANA!”

The cry was championed by Patrick, who stood in the lobby absolutely beaming at her, below a banner that they’d hung above the espresso bars that read the same. Indy didn’t have to ask - the grin on Grayson’s face gave it away. She wanted to ask him how long he’d planned that surprise, how many more he had in store. She felt woefully undeserving, especially when she realized that Patrick had shut down the store for an hour just for her.

“And I thought you giving me free coffee was bad for business,” she said in his ear when she hugged him.

“I don’t know what lover boy over there does but he covered normal sales for the hour and then some,” he mumbled.

One of the baristas handed Ethan a sign that read “closed for private celebration” to hang on the door, and then it was truly time to celebrate. Indy walked behind the bar like she had a million times before, happy to see that everything was still in the same place. Patrick threw her an apron that she jokingly tied on over her robe before she clapped her hands together.

“Alright, who wants what?”

She made some of her best latte art that day - leaves, a flower for Lisa, a slightly lopsided swan for Devin per his request. It felt nice to be in a familiar place doing something she was good at - it blanketed over the uncertainty that had begun to settle in when she realized that everything was on a trajectory of change. She would never sit in another undergraduate course, never have some of her favorite professors again. And there was always the factor of possibly looking at other schools - they all started their programs in the fall, which meant she had time to truly look, if she really wanted to. From her first tour of campus she’d always thought she would be at JCU for her whole academic career, but her mind began to wander when she heard the buzzing of all the other top schools that her cohort were applying to - Baylor, Harvard, and the one that had piqued her interest the most, UCLA.

She’d googled their admission rates one night when Grayson had fallen asleep during a back scratch, and her chances looked good. Really good. But she’d closed the tab quickly - LA was too far away from New York, from home.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” Grayson’s voice was soft as he clinked his mug against hers to get her attention.

“Just thinking,” she smiled, turning her head and tilting up until he kissed her quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Indiana hopped off her barstool and headed back behind the bar, following Patrick who had disappeared to the back storage room. It was like walking into a friend’s house you hadn’t been to in a while when she passed through the swinging door. The freezers on the left and the syrups in organized rows on her right, just like before.

“Don’t even think about trying to do any dishes while you’re here,” Patrick said, his back still to her as she moved to the sink. She’d had too much time to think while she sat and waited for her name to be called during the ceremony - too much empty mental space that could be allotted to all the things she should be doing. Which meant she’d managed to hatch up a whole plan to better herself in more ways than one in a mere 20 minutes.

“Do you guys still have the same insurance policy for employees? Like the new health benefits, the mental health ones that you all put in like two months before I left?”

Patrick turned the water off.

“Yeah, insurance is the same, it covers four therapy sessions a month for anyone who qualifies. But that’s just for full time employees. But I could probably pull a few strings and get you some benefits with part time hours… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine! I was just curious. Thanks.”

Indy turned to leave, jumping a bit when she realized that Charlie was behind her.

“What’re you doing back here?”

“I was looking for Patrick, there’s a delivery guy here with milk,” Charlie explained, but there was a seriousness in her brows that let Indy know that she had not only heard enough of the conversation, but that she was definitely going to have to talk about it later.

Damn.

She pushed the thought aside and put on another smile before they all exited the backroom, laughing at the sight of one of Ethan trying to steam milk. He turned at her entrance and lost his focus, moving the pitcher down too far and spraying almond milk everywhere before the barista who was helping him flipped the wand back up.

“Eden’s on facetime for you over there!” He pointed towards the counter and his phone, which Indy happily picked up to find a beaming Eden, who informed her that she’d sent a card that would probably be there a few days late, but she’d tried. She stayed on FaceTime while they all thanked Patrick again and headed back to the apartment, Lisa unveiling the gift pile and vegan cookie cake she’d managed to sneak in while Grayson had distracted Indiana with questions about his outfit choices. Almost every gift made Indiana cry - just the idea that they’d spent any time thinking about her was enough to have her emotional anyways. But between the blanket that Lisa had embroidered with JCU 20’, Ethan’s gift of a JCU Alumni sweatshirt and Indy’s dream record player that Charlie and Devin had got her, she was teary-eyed. Her mouth fell open when Grayson came out with a giant box from the spare room - she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he’d managed to sneak it in past her - but she didn’t care when she unwrapped it and realized it was a Mastrena.

“You bought me an espresso machine? Grayson! These things cost a fortune!”

“Yeah, but you graduated college! And now you can make lattes all the time.”

“Gray-”

“And you can make me lattes,” he teased, knowing it would take her a while to fully accept it. She just shook her head when he kissed her cheek, overwhelmed.

By the time the night was coming to a close, everyone was piled onto the couch, with Charlie and Indy on their boyfriend’s laps to make room for everyone as they watched Collateral Beauty at Indy’s request. Grayson frowned when she sniffled and held her when she cried, eyes more focused on her than the screen. And he couldn’t say he was too sad to see Lisa and Ethan say goodbye, or for Devin and Charlie to say their goodnights before they disappeared into the spare room.

The duo brushed their teeth in the sink side by side, and Grayson snapped a picture of them in the mirror with a foamy smile before they stripped down to underwear and scurried under the covers.

Indy was just as glad to have him to herself for the first time all day, and she soaked in his warmth, sighing when he pulled her closer.

“I love you. Thank you for today.”

Y-O-U-R-E-W-E-L-C-O-M-E he traced on her shoulder blade, lips on her forehead.

T-I-R-E-D?

“Why?” Grayson smirked, laughing quietly when she smacked his chest.

“It’s been a long day, that’s why.”

“For you,” he corrected.

“You had to sit around and watch me all day though.”

“You say that as if it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy. I could celebrate you everyday baby.”

She blushed at his words, burying her face in his neck.

“For someone as accomplished as you, you really suck at letting people acknowledge your accomplishments,” he teased, running his fingertips over her skin lightly. She did the same over his chest, tracing a hexagon.

“I’m… I’m not used to people being proud of me I guess.”

Grayson frowned and pulled back and looked at her, really looked in her eyes. They were still the color of the jellyfish, just a bit duller in the low light of her bedroom.

“I’m proud of you Indiana.” He paused, offering her a small smile. “But you know what? I’m not the most proud.”

Indy waited.

“Your mom. She’s gotta be the most proud of you. She’s seen every single minute you put in to get where you are right now.”

She crumpled into his chest, and the tears that had threatened her all day finally fell, hot and salty as they traveled onto his skin. It was quiet in the room for a while, and Grayson waited patiently - quietly, until she spoke again.

“I felt her today. She was there.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see her or anything. But I had a dream about her the other night though, and it felt like she was really there with me. And it felt like that today too. Does that ever happen to you? With your dad?”

“Oh all the time. He’s always with me. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times - like when I’m about to do stupid shit, or make a mistake, I can hear him clear as day in my head. But it’s comforting, you know? Knowing they’re there, watching over us.”

“Yeah.” Indy’s throat was tight all over again. She wished she could have met Sean for a moment, and then she realized that in some ways, in knowing Grayson, she had.

“You know, one of the things that really stuck with me, towards the end, was something his nurse said. Her name was Charlotte, and she must have been working fucking overtime because she was always there. But one day I was in the hallway, cause I just needed a break, and she came and sat down next to me on the floor. And at that point, I mean we knew. We didn’t know when, but we knew. And she looked at me and she said ‘sweetheart, this is a gift for him. He gets so much more time with you, because he can always be with you instead of only sometimes.’ And I remember, I was so fucking mad at her, because who the fuck says that shit to someone whose about to lose their parent? But she was right. She was so fucking right.

“And while the doctors were in and out, giving us all these numbers and all these timelines and all that, Charlotte was the only one who really told me anything that mattered. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my dad didn’t want to know anything about his… his cancer. He didn’t want to know his counts, or how much time he had left. He never asked, and she was the only one who stood by him in that, made sure that he didn’t know anything he didn’t want to. And it meant so much to him, in the end, that he had that choice. That was one of the only things he asked us to do, before he went. He told us not to cry, and he told us to take care of Ma, and Cam, but he told us to look out for Charlotte too. When we could think, we went back to the unit, asked the other nurses if there was anything she needed, and it turns out she’d been driving a 1995 Honda for a decade, and she didn’t think it would make it through the rest of the winter. We bought her an SUV, and I still don’t think she knows it was us, but I swear my dad told me which one to get for her. And he was so fucking proud.”

Indiana hung on his every word, watching him as he watched the ceiling, like he always did when he talked about his father.

“He has so much to be proud of Grayson. He helped raise a wonderful, wonderful man. The best, actually.”

Her voice snapped him out of his own head, and he turned to her quickly, worried.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for that. I like hearing about your dad, and it’s good to get it out sometimes. You can tell me anything that’s on your mind, you know that.”

He looked at her, there in his arms, eyes a bit puffy from tears passed, that soft smile on her lips that was somehow more endearing than her full one, and he felt tears of his own start to prickle. He knew she meant it, knew she would be understanding, and that somehow made it worse.

What was he supposed to say? I love you so much, and I think you’re the love of my life, but our lives are completely different, and I promised I wouldn’t ask you to go to LA, and I’m terrified of losing you and I don’t want to hurt you.

His lips parted, and then he closed them again. She yawned so hard that her nose scrunched, and when she was done she curled back up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

“M’tired,” she mumbled, which meant she was already half asleep.

He pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing the same letters she spoke.

“I love you more.” His voice was tight as his finger moved against the back of her arm, and he turned the lamp off before any of his tears fell.

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

When Indiana woke up, Grayson’s arms were like a cage around her. Usually, they were still somewhat intertwined when they woke, but she’d never had to maneuver her way out of his arms with so much force before.

She finally managed it, and replaced herself with a pillow that he gladly pulled to his chest. Indy couldn’t help but to lean over and brush some of his floppy hair out of his eyes, staring for a moment before she pulled herself away and headed into the kitchen.

The reason for her early wake up was standing in front of the fridge, with a head of blonde hair that resembled a birds nest.

When she turned around, she looked guilty as ever.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Indy reassured her sister with a smile, moving over to the coffee machine. “It’s 10 anyways, I’m surprised I slept that long.”

Grayson had gotten her a newer version that was actually fairly quiet, but she made sure both the bedroom doors were shut before she ground the espresso for her latte, and Charlie’s flat white.

Charlie was nice enough to wait until she had her mug to bring it up.

“So.”

Indy sighed. “So.”

“You asked Patrick about insurance stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to work there again?”

“I have to pay rent somehow, don’t I?”

“Dad pays your rent.”

“I don’t want dad to pay my rent, that’s the whole issue.”

“Okay, but you didn’t ask Patrick about salary, you asked him about insurance. For mental health specifically.”

“You know, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Are you okay? Because you know that you can always talk to me about stuff, whatever it is. And I know I’m not the best about talking about mom, but I can try, I’ve been doing better with it and-”

“Char. Stop. It’s not about mom.”

“Oh.” It was obvious by her long pause that she hadn’t considered an alternative, but Indy waited anyways.

“Then… what’s going on?”

Indy toyed with the foam on her latte with her finger, ignoring how hot it was.

“I was thinking about trying to get a handle on the plane thing.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want it to be such a big deal for me to just, fucking fly somewhere. I gotta get over that shit.”

Charlie pondered it for a minute, and she chose her next words carefully.

“Just to fly? Or to fly to a specific place.”

Indy laughed.

“You know, you’ve never been good at subtle. You got that from mom. But no, I’m not just doing it because of Grayson.”

“Did he ask you to?”

“Of course not, he wouldn’t do that.” Charlie’s shoulders relaxed. “But he does live in LA, which means I’ve gotta be able to fly out there.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Oh. Doesn’t he leave soon though?”

“January.” She said it casually.

“Inds that’s next month.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Charlie had a million more questions, but she held her tongue and sipped her coffee.

“I’ve gotta pack, our flight leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming you don’t have any breakfast food.”

“Actually, I do, but I’m not the breakfast chef around here.”

She sat her mug down on the counter and threw Charlie a wink before she headed back into her room as quietly as she could, sneaking up to the edge of the bed. Grayson had rolled to his stomach, something in his unconscious realizing that the pillow that he’d tossed away was in fact not his girlfriend. He almost looked too adorable to disturb.

Almost.

She went the gentle route, changing her mind on the pounce plan that she’d originally made. Instead, she crawled up the mattress and over his back, laying down on top of him with her cheek pressed to his warm shoulder.

He grunted a bit, but it turned into a sigh when she started peppering kisses along his skin.

“Mornin gorgeous,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What’re you doin’ back there?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Well- “ he rolled slightly, just enough to pull her over his side and onto the mattress so he could move right back with her underneath him -” maybe you should hang out down here instead.”

She relaxed into him like she always did, peppering kisses against his chest. Her hands ran over the ripples of muscles in his arms before she stopped and traced.

B-R-E-A-K-F-A

“Ahhh, so you didn’t just come in here for cuddles huh,” Grayson cut her off with a smile, quirking an eyebrow when she looked up at him.

“If you make us all avocado toast I’ll pay you in cuddles,” she offered. It puffed up Grayson’s chef alter ego just enough to convince him to get out of bed and throw some pants on. Indy stayed closed to him, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the morning as she helped him prep everything for breakfast. She could have done it, but Grayson’s pride at a very nicely laid out plate of avo toast, strawberries and honeydew was the best addition she could make. So she stuck to the coffees instead, passing over mugs as Devin appeared and Charlie followed, though she was still working on her cup from earlier.

“Well, now I see how he turned you into a breakfast person,” she said, graciously accepting a plate. They ate over quiet conversation, enjoying the last little bit of time they had before the airport and the inevitable goodbye. Grayson had bonded with the duo even more during their visit, and he was sad to see them having to leave again so soon. When Indy went to change, Grayson followed her, frowning when she didn’t pick her warmest jacket.

“It’s supposed to get really cold out, you’ll probably want your big one,” he said as subtly as he could, popping his knuckles as he spoke.

“I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer today,” she pouted. “We’re only gonna be outside to walk to the car.”

“Right, but you’re always cold. Just wear that one.” He gave her his most dazzling smile and she gave in, sliding in on before she left. Grayson was grateful that she listened - it meant he didn’t have to reveal his final graduation surprise too soon. He bit his tongue on the drive to the airport, gave out his hugs to Charlie and Devin, squeezing Indy into his side when she sniffled at the sight of her sister disappearing into the terminal.

Indy didn’t have a single suspicion until Grayson took a different turn into the city, much earlier than usual - 50th, instead of 26th.

“Bub? This is the wrong way.”

“No it isn’t.”

“We get off on 26th for the garage.”

“We aren’t going to the garage.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face - the sheepish one that always made Indy’s heart flutter. She’d seen it so many times, but it still had the same effect on her every single time.

“Well then where are we going?” There was a childlike excitement in her voice that made Grayson laugh. He pulled her hand up to his face, kissed her skin softly.

“You’ll see.”

The first stop it seemed, was a jewelry store.

“This is not the surprise by the way, just an errand. Gotta pick up a christmas gift for mom.”

“I was gonna get her a sweater for christmas, do you think she’ll like that?”

“Li does love a good sweater. She’ll love anything you get her though, you’re the favorite.”

Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t respond as one of the workers came up and asked what they were there for. When Grayson gave his name she headed to the back and came back out with a small box.

“May I?” She asked.

Grayson nodded, waiting for her to open it. Inside was a beautiful ring, silver and delicate, with a large light blue stone in a princess cut.

“It’s beautiful,” Indy mused.

“Blue topaz. My dad’s birthstone. Mine and E’s too. You think she’ll like it?”

“Gray she’ll love it, of course she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” His nerves were evident - he was always on a mission to make sure that his mom still had a good Christmas, although she always said all she needed was to have her kids back under her roof for the day. He paid the final portion of the ring payment and slipped the box into his pocket, waiting until they were back outside to turn to Indy with a wide smile.

“Now, we really celebrate.”

They walked hand in hand down the street. Indy kept her protests to herself - she wasn’t used to being spoiled in any way. In fact, it still made her uncomfortable when anyone spent money on her in any form, but she tried to remind herself that money didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. So when they strolled up to one of the nicer restaurants in the city for a late lunch, she bit her tongue and tried not to think about the prices, following him inside to the warmth. It was dimly lit, the type of place where the host would take your coat off and pull your chair out for you.

Grayson beat him to it, fingers brushing over her shoulders while he pulled her coat off. She felt underdressed in just jeans and a sweater, but he looked at her like she hung the moon for him and him alone, and she wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day in their lives together that he couldn’t make her blush just by looking at her.

The menu didn’t even have prices next to the items, and it made Indy’s mouth dry enough for her to finish her water before the waiter even came back for their order.

Grayson noticed. He always noticed. He reached a hand across the small table for her hand, thumb running over her smooth acrylics that she’d gotten pre-graduation.

“Why are you nervous bub?”

“This place is expensive,” she explained after a moment’s hesitation.

“And graduating college a year early is a feat worth celebrating,” he reminded her, raising up his wine glass filled with water. “Despite the fact that you seem to hate being celebrated.”

“I don’t hate being celebrated. I’m just… not used to it I guess. Wasn’t a big Cross family thing, even before.”

“Well, it’s a big Dolan family thing.”

“I guess I better get used to it then.”

She clinked her glass against his as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hidden by the lighting. He pushed the thoughts from his head, the constant nagging he seemed to never be able to escape from, the better part of his conscience begging him to do the right thing, to tell her what he was thinking. She didn’t deserve for him to drag it out if he really was going to end things - she deserved so much more, more than he could give her with the life that he led. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something she’d reel him back in with a smile, or a witty comment, or just a look, entirely unaware of what she was doing. And he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but the spot that she’d managed to carve out in his soul in just a few short months. He knew deep down he’d never find anyone else to fill it, but he also knew that she deserved to live the life she wanted to. A life without a boyfriend whose life interfered with hers. He just didn’t know how to reconcile with the fact that he would break her heart, and his own in the process.

So, he ignored his conscience and gave in to the selfish side of himself.

When she asked where he’d gone, he said he was planning, and it wasn’t a lie. If he was only going to have so many days with her, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice a single moment.

So he held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food, striking up a conversation about college memories and her classmates that she would miss the most. The food was as incredible as he expected, and he made a mental note to thank Ethan for the recommendation. Grayson made sure that Indy didn’t see the inside of the bill when the waiter brought it, even being careful to slip the $200 in cash in the billfold practically under the table.

He led her back out into the cold, for once thankful for the early sunset of NYC that already had the city lights glowing against the fading sky. There was something magical about it, about existing on the streets with so many other people, knowing each one of them had their own story and life that they led. Indy people watched as Grayson led her safely down the streets, letting her cling onto his arm for comfort and warmth. It was only a few blocks until they saw the metallic flags and turned the corner to find the Rockefeller Center tree, massive and glorious in its height. It was speckled with what seemed like millions of lights, all twinkling in bright colors amongst the branches.

“Wow.”

Grayson watched the wonder on her face with a chuckle. “You’re a New Yorker, aren’t you supposed to be used to this shit?”

She smacked his arm, but kept her eyes forward. “I haven’t been to see it in years. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

He let her admire it as long as she wanted, resting his cheek against the top of her head when she leaned over on him.

“You wanna get closer?”

She frowned at him. “How?”

Grayson started walking with her in tow, down the stairs and around the plaza until he got to the ground level, fishing two tickets out of his jacket pocket for the attendant at the front of the ice rink. Indiana squeezed his arm.

“Gray. Baby, this is so sweet, but I can’t skate for shit.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he laughed, shaking his head before he kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

They checked out their skates quickly, lacing up on one of the benches before Indy rose on wobbly feet, immediately letting out a squeal and reaching for her boyfriend. He caught her with a laugh, adjusting his own balance before they started walking to the edge of the ice. That familiar Grayson confidence was evident as he stepped on, getting his bearings before he reached out a hand for her.

“C’mon, I’ve got you. You got this, just one foot at a time.”

She grabbed both his hands and let him counteract her weight as she tried to get her footing, finally finding her balance after a moment of wobbling.

“Okay, now push off with one foot and glide with the other. Like this.”

He went to let go to demonstrate, and she clung to his hands with a squeak. “Don’t let go!”

Grayson’s cackle bounced off the ice. “Okay, okay! I’m right here, you’re good. Just try.”

Indy didn’t like not being good at things. But god was she terrible at ice skating. It didn’t matter how much instruction Grayson tried to give her, it was like it refused to translate into the movement of her legs. She was adorable when she was frustrated, but Grayson wanted it to be enjoyable for her too, so after a few laps around of watching her struggle he slid behind her, hands solid on her hips.

“Just keep your legs and feet straight, and I’ll do the rest.”

She held onto his hands as he started to push her along - she’d forgotten that he was annoyingly athletic but the feeling of actually gliding across the ice kept her from teasing him about it. It was peaceful, and despite the crowd both on the ice and above them by the tree, she felt like they were the only two in the city.

Grayson took them through the middle after they’d gone around a few times, towards the center for one pass and she squeezed his hand when they got there.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned his skates, throwing a bit of ice onto her ankles on accident, peaking over her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Turn me around. Please.”

He did as she asked, faster than he meant to, and it had her nails digging into his shoulders as he tried to hold her up without them both going down. She was breathing fast when he got them steady, quirking an eyebrow.

“We gotta take a picture in front of the tree!”

He obliged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning them slowly until the tree was behind them, snapping a few of the two of them smiling before he kissed her cheek, and then her lips, randomly pressing the button and hoping they were still in frame.

Her lips were cold against his, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick she’d put on before they’d left the restaurant. It sent tingles down the back of his neck that made him put his phone back in his pocket and pull her closer to him.

Wrong move. He’d never met someone so uncoordinated in his life, and it was the closest call of them all when her legs started to flail. His only hope of saving her from hitting the ice was to pick her up fully and hope that he could keep his balance with the sudden weight shift.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, clinging to his neck while he laughed.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he teased, and in a moment of confidence he dipped her down like they were dancing and kissed her again. The same tingle went down his neck, the hair there standing up, still there even when he sat her on her skates again, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist.

Above them, as if someone had turned on a machine, it began to snow. Big fluffy flakes fell around them, disappearing into Indy’s light hair and speckling the top of Grayson’s. It was magic in its simplest form, and Indy couldn’t help but beam at him.

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he said, and he meant it.

They headed off the ice a few minutes before their session expired, unlacing their boots with numb fingers that they shoved in their pockets for the walk back to the truck. As soon as they climbed in the cab Grayson blasted the heat and opened an arm for Indy to cuddle up next to him. Once they were thawed enough, Grayson proposed the idea of hot chocolate, specifically to help the fact that Indy’s teeth were still chattering. Which was how they ended up at Jet’s 40 minutes later, squished together in the blue chair by the window, watching the snow fall as they sipped peppermint hot chocolates that Patrick had given them on the house. Grayson dropped a 20 in the tip jar anyways.

The lobby was busy, with people in and out constantly, wiping the snow off their shoes as best they could on the small doormat. They shuffled through the line, a few of them sitting down for a moment to wait for their names to be called. Indy was used to the bustle, though she felt a bit guilty that she wasn’t behind the bar helping out when she had the skills to. Instead, she just smiled any time a barista looked her way, and spent the rest of her time watching the snow outside.

Grayson’s eyes were on a girl. A few girls, actually, who looked oddly familiar though he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They’d sat at a table towards the back of the store, having come in right behind him and Indy. But since then they’d moved forward one table, and then another, and the not so subtle way that two of them had angled their phone had that familiar prickle at the back of his neck rising again. He shifted in his chair quickly, turning his head away and attempting to do his best to block the view of Indiana.

“Hey, you ready to get outta here?”

“Did you finish already?” She asked, surprised considering her cup was still half full.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just figured we could get home and change into some cozy pjs is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Indy moved in to kiss his cheek, and though he tried to pull away, he didn’t do it fast enough.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Two for two. “Let’s just get home.”

The walk was as short as ever, but it was enough time for Indy’s mind to race. Had he been annoyed that she said something about the restaurant being expensive? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to help her ice skate - most people could at least hold themselves up on the rails at least. But he’d seemed so happy, which somehow made her feel worse, that she’d missed it somehow.

By the time they made it to the elevator, she was borderline panicking.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something?”

Her words broke Grayson out of his own thoughts, and he rushed into reassurances.

“No, it’s not you baby. It’s not, I promise.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

“I’m good, really. Just wanted to get home.”

For the first time in her almost three months of knowing Grayson, she didn’t believe him. But she knew when to drop a subject, so she just nodded and followed him out of the elevator.

Half of Grayson’s wardrobe seemed to have migrated into Indy’s apartment, so it wasn’t hard to find cozy clothes that had them curled up together on the couch in no time. Grayson felt guilty, and tried to distract himself by running his fingers through her soft hair, tried to focus on the weight of her leaned against him. She was quiet as she scrolled through show after show, not really looking. She picked a random cooking show eventually just to fill the silence in the room, moving to lay across Graysons lap. His hand moved under her shirt, fingers still a bit cold as he ran them lightly over her skin.

She didn’t say anything, just glad to have him there with her. She traced on top of his sweatpants, shapes and words, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U. The fabric was so thick that he could barely make out what she was writing.

“Thank you? For what?”

She rolled over so she was looking up at him. “For today. For celebrating me.”

He traced a thumb over her cheek. “You’re welcome. I love you. So much.”

“C’mere,” Indy said, reaching up for him. It took some shifting, but eventually they got settled where they were laying together on the couch, with her pressed between the cushions and his chest. She was warm as she kissed him, slow and calculated, trying to get across to him that she was there for whatever he was going through without the words. He reciprocated, but his mind was still spinning, images of the girls and their phones behind his eyelids.

The kiss faded out into cuddles which faded into an uncomfortable silence that Indy was desperate to resolve.

“What’s the update on the tiny homes? Weren’t the floor guys supposed to come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, Ethan went out there and said they were almost done. We’ve got some interior designers coming out tomorrow and then they’ll be done-done,” Grayson explained, heart rate rising as yet another opportunity to tell her came up.

“They really got those done so fast. I guess that’s a perk of a tiny home though, not much floor space to floor. How often do you guys think you’re gonna come out and stay in them?”

He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to tell her.

“Well, actually-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a call from Ethan.

He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he fished his phone out of his pocket anyways, sliding over to answer.

“Yo.”

“Hey, mom wants to put up the christmas decs tomorrow cause she still doesn’t have them up. You remember where we put the lights?”

“Yeah, they’re in the attic I think, with the tree.”

“Well, you’re the family santa, so get your ass out here early tomorrow to hang some lights. And bring Indy too, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t make breakfast, we’ll bring donuts or something.”

“Fuck you, be here at 10.”

He hung up, making Grayson roll his eyes and look down at Indy.

“You up for Christmas decorating tomorrow at home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! But I’m sure as fuck not getting on the roof.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do the roof, you can do the stuff inside with Ma. Deal?”

“Deal,” she smiled, wiggling up to kiss him again, trying to chase out the rest of her worries before she curled up into his chest.

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

The snow had piled onto the sides of the highway in ugly mounds stained with dirt and asphalt drudged up by the plows. So Indy kept her eyes on the trees as they flew by, specifically the evergreens she saw, with their green bristles weighted down with white, heavy and thick.

“Are you sure you guys wanna get on the roof with all this? Won’t it be slick?”

“Nah, Dad used to do it all the time. I’ll just make E shovel while I try to find the clips we put up there last year. Besides, if I fall off I’ve got a doctor to mend me up,” he teased, squeezing her leg.

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Okay, well an almost doctor then. How many years until you’re actually one again?”

“11 years minimum. Well, 10 for me cause I skipped a year in undergrad. But it could be up to 16, depending on how long my residency would go.”

“And you’re gonna do it all through JCU?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan right now,” she mumbled, eyes still focused out the window.

“Hey,” he got her attention, waiting for her to turn to him. “You’re gonna be an amazing doctor someday. You’re gonna help so many people. Just having you in the room, doing the little things for people, that’s gonna mean more to those people than you even realize. They’re gonna be really lucky to have you.”

The sentiment seemed to arise out of nowhere, but she still blushed at his kind words. “The little things are actually more the nurses, but thank you.”

He let her watch the trees for the rest of the drive, and she was so focused on them that she barely noticed Ethan already on the roof when they pulled in.

He had a bright orange shovel in his hands, the scoop full of snow that he began to swing back and forth once they stepped out of the car, shoes crunching the snow below them.

“Don’t you dare!” Indy called, but it was too late. The snow was already flying and she squealed, grabbing Grayson and pulling him out of the way while it rained down right where they had been standing.

A moment later and Lisa was outside, hands on her hip with the menacing energy only a mom could produce.

“Ethan Grant! That’s how you fall and bust your fucking head open! Knock it off!”

Grayson bit back a laugh when Ethan kicked a tiny bit more snow off the edge so it sprinkled down by Lisa.

“Will you get up there before he falls off please?” She turned to Grayson, exasperated. “Indy, come in, it’s cold.”

It was Indiana’s turn to laugh when Lisa hooked their arms together and led her into the house, leaving Grayson out in the snow. He grabbed the lights that Ethan had already gotten out, looping his arm through before he headed up the ladder at the lowest point of the roof.

“I’ve already done the other side of the house, so I’m just here for moral support and to save your ass if I need to, my job is done,” Ethan explained, moving over to a spot by the chimney to sit down.

“Oh yeah, you shoveled on a downhill slope, the horror,” Grayson muttered, but in all honesty he would rather do the lights himself anyways.

They talked about the tiny homes and the final touches they needed while Grayson moved around the roof carefully, trying to counteract his balance when he got closer to the edge, cursing his mom silently for having roofs so high that they couldn’t do it from the top of a ladder.

The front of the house went without incident, and Ethan begrudgingly helped by holding the extra lights while Gray strung them. But when Ethan went down the ladder to get the next strand to connect, he took a minute too long to come back up. Grayson tried to use what little patience he was born with, but it fizzled out quickly, making him stomp across the roof to the edge.

“Yo, what the fucks taking so long?”

“Gray.”

“Can you not find them or what?”

“Grayson.”

He didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice.

“What? What happened?”

“Come down here.”

Grayson took the ladder so quickly that his feet almost slipped, but he was at his brother’s side in a moment, taking his phone that he had outstretched.

His stomach dropped into the snow under his feet as he began to scroll with a numb thumb. There were pictures. So many pictures, and Indy was in every single one of them. Tweet after tweet with different screenshots of the two of them - looking at the tree, ice skating, sitting in Jets, even walking down the street. He pieced it together, realized that the reason the girls had looked familiar was because they’d followed them.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Bile rose in his throat when he found a video, zoomed in as far as it would go with surprising quality as he pushed Indy along on the ice, towards the middle of the rink. He watched her squeeze his hands and laugh, watched himself turn her around so they could get their picture, watched himself kiss her cheek and her lips.

He didn’t want to read, but he couldn’t help himself. There were a few familiar handles that talked about how happy they were for him, but the majority of it was exactly what he expected.

So much for ‘working on himself’ he’s back on the constant girlfriend trend

Didn’t think she was his type but okayyyyy I guess 🥴

When we said we didn’t want Grayson to end up with an LA girl, we didn’t mean ~that~

Her insta is indiana.jamie, i’ve never even heard of her

The worst was a two set of images from Jet’s, where her face was in plain view. The second one had edited lighting, and was zoomed in on his pocket, with the text above it.

Look I know I sound crazy but WTF IS IN HIS POCKET? IS THAT A RING BOX? GRAY BABY NOOOOOOO

“Fuck.” He couldn’t find another word, and Ethan was no help. A call from Adele came in on his phone, and E looked at him for approval. He just nodded and let him answer, turning away and heading into the house, not even bothering to clean his boots.

“Dee! Indiana!”

“In here!” She called back and he jogged into the living room, not realizing he was breathless until he got there and saw that the tree had been assembled. She had an ornament in her hand when he ran in and she put it on the tree quickly, her stomach tightening at the look on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Where’s your phone, have you looked at your phone?”

“It’s over there, it’s just been playing music. Baby what’s wrong?”

He ran over to it, muttering out a ‘shit’ when the screen lit up, both at the flood of notifications and the fact that her lockscreen had changed to their picture from the ice.

“Woah.” She took her phone from him, unlocking it and heading after all the notifications on instagram. “Holy shit. I got 3,500 new followers, what the fuck?”

“Indy, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her phone and looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should have thought about it, there’s not usually paps in New York, I didn’t even think about fans, and now everyone’s tweeting a bunch of bullshit about you, I’m just, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Slow down,” she murmured, hand moving to his face. She saw Lisa leave the room out of the corner of her eye, but she kept looking at Grayson. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen.”

“They saw the ring box in my pocket in some of the pictures, they probably think we’re fucking engaged, and they’re gonna be relentless. Every time you get online you’re gonna see some bullshit about you because of me.”

“Gray, it’s alright. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t, nobody can, it’s gonna get to you. If you say it doesn’t effect you, you’re fucking lying.” He ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, sucking in a breath that Indiana recognized.

“Gray, don’t cry. Look, look.” She unlocked her phone again, exited instagram and held down until it shook, deleting it quickly from her phone. “I don’t even post much anyways. And I don’t have a twitter, I’m not gonna see what they say about me. I don’t care, I promise you I don’t.”

Her gut told her a different story. Though it wasn’t her favorite quality of herself, Indy liked to be liked. It was natural, but she sought validation from other people more than she wanted to, and it made her dangerously curious to see what had caused such a visceral reaction in her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head. She got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

And for the first time in his almost three months of knowing Indiana, he didn’t believe her.

#WOOOOOO #I hope you guys like it!#let me know what you think pls :')#mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic

69 notes · View notes

codedredalert · 3 years

Text

no lead nor steel shall reach him so [Golden Kamuy, Ogata & Yuusaku] -- gen oneshot

Ogata character study || 1705 words

A good marksman could swear blind that he knew a good shot before his bullet left the barrel.

Ogata was a good shot. The moment he pulled the trigger on Yuusaku, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death, Ogata is messed up and regrets nothing, this is not a nice softe redemption story.

A/N: written for @narramin

(On Ao3)

===/\===

Ogata knew the rumours.

Second Lieutenant Hanazawa Yuusaku is the eight virtues personified, they said. No wonder he was promoted so young. No wonder he had the honour of bearing the flag.

Perhaps Ogata knew the rumours best because they were spoken carefully around him— whispers like prey rustling the grass, catching his attention whether he willed it or not.

He's that Ogata's brother, they said. No, reliably came the disbelieving reply. Can't be, no way, you've got to be lying, is it true? It's true, the Second Lieutenant said so, though Ogata tries to keep it quiet. Ah, well it makes sense, he's the bastard after all, isn't he? Hah, in more ways than one…

Sideways glances between himself and their vaunted officer, not nearly as discreet as the men of the 7th Division believed themselves to be.

Have you heard? asked First Lieutenant Tsurumi in a conspiratorial whisper when he had Ogata alone. They say the Second Lieutenant is very principled.

Yes, Ogata has heard.

Shall we see for ourselves? proposed the First Lieutenant, hand outstretched, an offer.

一.

"Life is a long road."

Grandmother taught this to him in a voice that was light to mask the weight of wisdom in those heavy words. After Mother's death, Grandmother had never faltered in her duties though she grieved, going through the funeral proceedings with head held high, and seeing to Ogata's every need with reliability that Mother had never managed, though she had tried.

"The longer one's road grows, the more places to stumble, and for impurity to rest on the soul. With time, every person falls to the suffering of existence."

She used one of her wrinkled, gnarled hands to smooth back Ogata's clipped-short hair, soothing and pleasant.

"It is just the way life is," she said.

Ogata approached Yuusaku for the first time since the young officer had first called him brother, and the younger man lit up with such unadulterated delight that it sent a shudder of disgust down Ogata's spine.

He had to be faking. No one got that excited about a night out with their bastard half-brother. But as long as the Second Lieutenant wanted to play the good brother, that suited Ogata just fine.

Ogata led Yuusaku to the pleasure district, watching with amusement as the younger man's delight turned to discomfort, to embarrassment, to distress.

"Brother… I'm terribly sorry," he said, bowing. And he sounded sorry too, as if it physically pained him to refuse Ogata's first tenuous offer of brotherhood. His sincerity grated, as did his refusal. In one move, Yuusaku had both undermined Ogata's objective, and plainly made the grave insult that— however much he claimed to want Ogata for an elder brother— Ogata's wants and ways were beneath him.

With the trap now useless, there was no choice but to let him go, and Yuusaku walked out of the establishment as free and upright as ever.

But Ogata could be patient. As the war went on— as the acrid gunpowder, piss, shit, and anguish seeped into them all— Yuusaku would stumble. Ogata just had to bide his time and try again, try better.

二.

His mother was beautiful in death. She had hundreds of admirers from the peak of her career, and many a swooning painter had captured her likeness. A portrait of her had been gifted to them, and it smiled bright-eyed and gentle upon Ogata from the family altar as she never had in life.

"It doesn't look like her," he remarked, as he stood side by side with his grandmother and offered incense. He remembered his mother's back as she stood in the middle of a room for long stretches of time, silent and unmoving. Her profile, as she stared out the window, watching for a man who would never come.

The joss sticks burned down to ash, and Grandmother lifted her head from her prayers. She bowed and turned away, gesturing for him to follow. He followed suit.

"People see what they want to see," she said, once she had closed the door behind them. Grandmother was very different from Mother, in that way. She always paid attention to him, even if she was silent at first. He just had to be patient.

"Men wanted her beauty, so they took whichever parts of her they found beautiful and painted over all the other parts to suit their tastes. They did not know her character, the hardship she went through. The geisha, the maiko… they suffer greatly for their success. But it was our hope that she would have a good life, a better life than the one we could give her. Not..."

Heartache. Deep despair. The delusion that roused her from bed only to make the same dish, day after day: a desperate, futile offering to a love that didn't realise.

Ogata understood.

"Superior Private Ogata. It appears that Yuusaku is a more gallant soldier than we imagined. He's won over the hearts of all the other men."

Ogata let out the breath he'd been holding for his shot and lowered his rifle. He could read between the lines and take the orders the First Lieutenant preferred not to say explicitly. Plausible deniability and all that. It's why the First Lieutenant liked him.

"So you're saying we're better off not killing him, sir?" asked Ogata, reloading and already looking for his next target. He didn't need an answer. "Understood."

Ogata led Yuusaku wraithlike over the fields where gunfire and screaming had reigned earlier that day. The night was quiet but far from silent, the sighing of the wind an unearthly substitute for the dead and dying soldiers' groans. Yuusaku's boots scuffed the earth as he followed. He made enough noise that Ogata could have shot him at fifty yards, blindfolded.

"I want to see you kill him," Ogata said earnestly, pressing his knife into Yuusaku's hands. Yuusaku flinched and his eyes slid away, looking for escape, looking anywhere but Ogata's eyes, anywhere but the Russian soldier gagged and bound at their feet.

"Father said I have to keep my hands clean," Yuusaku begged off, as if the word 'Father' could invoke more authority than 'Lieutenant General' or 'martial law'. Ah, but Yuusaku was a beloved child, Ogata remembered, and this was him trying to appeal to the filial respect that Ogata never had the chance to develop for the man.

Something must have shown on Ogata's face.

Yuusaku embraced him and Ogata's blood swarmed like locusts in his veins, eating him alive with irritating discontent and a curious, persistent thought.

三.

Mother's death was Ogata's first. A lot of customs went with it, though Ogata didn't really see why. When everything was over, Grandmother paid a priest to come bless the family and sprinkle salt at him.

"It's for your own good. Death is an unclean thing, we don't want its shadow over you," Grandmother explained when Ogata grumbled about some of it getting it into his eye. Her voice wavered ever so slightly, as she smoothed the front of her kimono. "Remember to do this after I've passed."

Ogata buried her the year he was conscripted. He didn't get the priest afterwards. There wasn't much point, on the way to a war.

It was so easy to find Yuusaku on the field, even in the chaos.

Gallant Yuusaku, leading the throng of soldiers eager to kill and die for the emperor and their nation. Ogata could frame them in his rifle sight like a painter drafting a standing screen. Yuusaku, marked by the rising sun.

It was so easy that it was a wonder how the enemy snipers hadn't gotten him first. The waving flag begged to be targeted. Did the Russians dismiss him for having no gun? For never drawing his unblooded sabre?

It was so easy to line up the shot.

What would happen if— ?

Ogata pulled the trigger.

四.

Birds scattered as he missed, taking to the peach-pink sky above the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki. Ogata took aim for his second shot, but the timing was already so far off that there was no point. He lowered his grandfather's rifle instead of wasting another bullet.

He'd been over-eager, moving too much, and too fast. The light was gone now, and he would have to return home empty-handed.

Yuusuke's distant silhouette crumpled. His corpse joined the hundreds of bodies on the battlefield, lost in the chaos of the regiment as he went down, the bright white and red and gold tasselled flag falling slowly after him before it too disappeared from sight. Ogata lowered his rifle with a strange sense of frustration and ran his hand through his regulation cropped-short hair.

There was a strange absence of something he thought would be there, and with that... Disappointment. Profound disappointment. Like the shot when he was a child in the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki and learning to hunt, the birds scattering as he missed.

Yuusaku crowned by the sun, beloved.

He'd been overeager and now gallant Yuusaku would be forever gallant, forever pure. The impurity of death didn't seem to stick, and now Yuusaku was an immortal nuisance and Ogata still had no answer to the discontent crawling on his back.

Ogata's hand clenched on the butt of his rifle, white-knuckled with cold. This was the first time he felt bad when he'd made his shot, bereft of something out of reach, which could have been his but never would. It was a pricking irritation similar to missing a shot. Even though he hadn't.

There were no answers here. There were no answers in the dead. Not in his mother, not in his grandmother, not in this man who called him brother.

Ogata turned and First Lieutenant Tsurumi was there. The First Lieutenant smiled in understanding and nodded in approval, as if knowing Ogata's thoughts before Ogata himself.

The father who only had enough love to raise one virtuous son. Yes, Ogata could just ask him directly. There was no point thinking about Yuusaku any longer.

Yuusaku was dead. That was the end of it. Ogata couldn't reach him anymore.

Time to turn to the living.

===/END\===

(On Ao3) ( patreon ) ( kofi ) ( paypal )

#ogata hyakunosuke #hanazawa yuusaku #tsurumi tokushirou #golden kamuy #gk #golden kamuy fanfiction #gk fanfic #gk fic #my writing #mine

16 notes · View notes

thedumbguywithaheart43 · 3 years

Text

BoomLords weird adventure

Chapter 5 reluctant companions

Rairty spoke up."excuse me darling what is the crazy stallion saying?"Twilight was spaced out for a moment trying to process what she had just done. Apon realizing Rairty was speaking she snapped back to reality."what oh Rairty. Sorry uh he was talking about me helping him to uh shit"She blinked, wincing as she couldn't get the thought of what she had just done out of her head. She didn't intend to create Rose fire in fact in that moment she had wanted to kill him to render the flesh from his bone, it was as if another creature had entered her head for a moment and fueled her rage."I think I have to go with him."before she could explain why."WHAT ARE YOU TAKING ABOUT HE JUST MESSED WITH YOU AND THE PRINCESSES HEADS!"rainbow yelled."I merely showed them what they wanted to know however to be honest I didn't expect this to happen. I had been looking for the rose fire in every world every terrifying, every cruel, and every unforgiving place in the Omniverse. But it turns out all I had to do was accidentally induced fear and rage into a horse."the pony stared at him for a moment."He's telling the truth and now that we know what's at stake we have no choice but to help."Celestia stated her tone was dark however as if she was doing something she wasn't so sure she wanted to."h-how long until it happens?"Boom and Celestia stared at each other for a moment. It was clear Boom really didn't want to answer this."could be days could be another year time works differently for me but if I had to give a rough estimate maybe a year or two or less."Celestia took a gulp of air as she looked to her fellow ponies. She looked as if she was holding back tears."my little ponies I ask no I beg you all to go with him this is no longer a matter in my control and I cannot force you to partake in this. What he is asking is dangerous beyond anything any of you have ever faced and while he may only require Twilight I would never send my student alone into what I was shown."this time no one spoke not even dash because when princess Celestia tells you shits about to go down it's going to go fuckin down. And in unison without hesitation without regret without fear all the ponies and Spike responded"were in!"boom looked at the group of ponies a look of discontent on his face."fuckin great I'm babysitting a whole party."most of the ponies ignored what he said with the exception of rainbow dash and Applejack."hey no one asked you"dash got in his face while AJ got close next to her."yeah that's right and don't think we're going to take our eyes off you for a minute partner. Not after what you just pulled.

2 spike walked over to the stallion cautiously"so how are we leaving? I mean you said we had to leave."well you see that's why I'm going to need my notepad and Pen also my satchel if you don't mind."a look of confusion re-entered the faces of everyone."oooo are you gonna draw us amagical portal to another dimension?"pinky blurted out as a few of the others started to chuckle."actually that's a pretty accurate assessment of what I'm about to do, in fact spot on."Twilights jaw nearly dropped as BoomLord began scribbling on the paper. Boomlord had drawn a nearly perfect circle on a piece of the notepads paper and in the center of it wrote the words, °home space°as he took the pen off the paper another electric golden ring started to form, the area within beginning to blacken about 10 ft away."okay everybody we're about to leave but don't worry I can send us back to this exact point in time give or take a few minutes so while we may be gone for who knows how long to the princesses it will only be a couple minutes."Boom that hope this comment would calm them however they're confusion only broaden. 'God how are they going to react when they all change'

3 boom was the first to enter the portal then Twilight followed by Pinky, rainbow,Applejack, rarity Fluttershy, and lastly young Spike. Boomlord looked down at himself. He was human again his blue jeans and thick yellow hoodie once again with him. Pulling back the sleeve he saw that the green fur that once covered his body was gone replaced with his light taned skin. Okay I hope everybody's ready for some exposition and descriptions. Boomlord looked back at the ponies first up was Twilight she had grown into a human form unsurprisingly. Her mane or I guess her hair had stayed the same she had fairly pale white skin and a few smalls freckles adorning her face she was also fairly short compared to Boom. Boom knew his height was about 5'7 give or take so Twilight had to be about 5'4 or 5'3 she wore a purple t-shirt and a darker purple skirt with pants to go with it all put together with very nice sneakers which all the girls have with the exception of rarity and Applejack. Pinky on the overhand was definitely much taller than Twilight in fact she was about the same height as boom. She wore a striped blue and pink shirt with a polka dot skirt and light pink leggings she had average white skin no major tan or anything although she did have pink nail polish on. Dash was next she still had her rainbow hair but she was on the shorter end with Twilight only being a inch or so taller along with fairly tanned skin as if she's been spending her days at the beach. She wore a plain blue sleeveless top and jean shorts her wings were also noticeably missing the same with Fluttershy. Speaking of Fluttershy her outfit was rather green she wore a green t-shirt with a yellow peace symbol on it and long jeans. Additionally in her hair she had is a flower crown witch she probably took off, besides that her skin was also fairly tanned. Applejack definitely took the show with her outfit she was wearing thick brown leather gloves and a brown leather vest with tassels on it. Underneath the vest was a plain white shirt covered in bits of brown dirt, and long stylish cowboy print jeans and good old-fashioned cowgirl boots. Applejack skin was also the most tanned being she was definitely the one who spent the most time outdoors. Also she and rainbow dash were the only ones with noticeable er muscle growth as even through their outfits they still kept their physical physique. Applejack and Fluttershy we're definitely the tallest of the group with Fluttershy being 5'8 and Applejack being at least 6'2.Lastly of the girls we have rarity wearing a clean white shirt with stylish blue diamond print in it, and a rather long dress to accompany it. Along her neck was a rather lovely diamond necklace and alot Lower down beautiful high heels. She also had the darkness pigment of her skin when compared to everyone else. Also sorry if that's not politically correct I'm not entirely sure what the correct term is now. Do feel free to let me know. As soon as the girls walk through the portal though most of them with the exception of Twilight who seemed almost familiar with the sensation of walking on two legs fell to the ground."oh no whats happing?"Pinky yelled and she started crawling on all fours along with Fluttershy. Dash and Applejack were occupied with balancing themselves on a desk next to them and rarity had somehow crawled her way to a sofa and dramatically pose."oh darling what has happened to us?"boomlord rolled his eyes as he knew he was going to have to teach them how to be human it also occurred to him where the hell was spike.

4 Then he saw it or well him. Unlike his fellow ponies Spike didn't turn into a human and no he did not turn into a dog. This isn't Equestria girls guys turning into a dog is really dumb and I already have one in the story. Spike's body had remained reptilian however he's noticeably taller now at least about Twilights size inner current form his body seemed to get longer and his claws along with it. His face has narrowed Abit becoming far more similar to his dragon freinds with the exception that he had a much longer neck which allowed him to survey his own body. Put it simply he looks more like what a small dragon would look like in our world if they existed."woah I look really cool!"spike yelled in excitement."ponies don't talk where I'm from so the portal has adjusted your body's to something a bit more familiar to me that I have set and in Spike's case I already had something in mind for dragons." Ponies now began to look around their surroundings. They notice they seemed to be in a rather decent sized living room a few desks a television ,yellow rug, a few lamps. The room seemed mostly normal only the walls and floor and ceiling all looked the same. It looks like the inside of a treehouse and where there was a window there was no... Well anything just an empty void."welcome to my home away from home a little place I made outside of the Omniverse and what I like to call free space, basically this entire place is an extension of a thought everything here with the exception of a few items were made from nothing. No magic and no magical effects can be taken here with the exception of the notepad so sorry girls but your wings and horns are temporarily unavailable don't worry when we go to other worlds you should be able to use them."Twilight rapidly blinked as she didn't expect well boom to look rather nice. He still had rather unkempt hair and the rings under the eyes but here the black in his eyes were gone however his irises remained red and gold. He had a warm smile or a warm fake smile and while definitely wasn't the biggest guy around he still had a rather fit physique. And the rarity was the first to comment on that"oh boom darling you look um..... Better than I would have thought."boom roll his eyes."well im far more comfortable like this."the girls who were having trouble standing took a few minutes to themselves to start copying the motions of Twilight who began pacing."uh hey are we safe here."like asked while moving around the girls who were rather surprised to see him as they did not expect such a change."spike looking badass today."rainbow dash teased.spike blushed slight as Boomlord spoke."well girls work going to have to set some ground rules since it looks like you'll be staying with me for a while."

(Oh one more thing because I know you're all wondering or at least some of you are wondering.

Breasts size from largest to smallest :Applejack dd followed by pinkie and Fluttershy then Rairty.twlight has the average size and rainbow dash is flat but that doesn't make her any less of a woman)

(not sure why I felt the need to put that there but I feel like some people just had to know)

#fanfic #mlp #writing #comedy #slightly saucy

3 notes · View notes

ikeromantic · 4 years

Text

Doll

Day 9 of Ikemektober

I chose Jonah for this one. Sweet and fluffy! Approx. 1200 words.

With a title like the Queen of Hearts, you would think the eldest Clemence would have one. But no. Instead, he lords over hearts, seeing them as worthless trinkets bought and sold with fancy gifts or five minutes of faked affection. It didn’t matter that he was beautiful, with his perfect little lips. His brilliant amber eyes. Hair that fell like liquid silver.

Alice swallowed. He was an arrogant, demanding, gorgeous, frustrating jerk! This was the bent of her thoughts as she sat and waited for Jonah in his room.

Everything in here was so perfectly Jonah. Elaborate, over-decorous, and stiff. Except for the tray of macarons. Those were pretty good. Not a patch on Luka’s baking, of course, but still sweet. She snagged another one from the back of the tower, hoping the Queen wouldn’t notice how many she’d eaten already.

Her fingers weren’t as deft as she hoped, and one of the macarons next to her target teetered and fell. It rolled along the floor like a little puffy wheel, leaving a trail of frosting to its final resting place, just under the edge of the bed.

Alice set the cookie she’d grabbed down and walked over to the giant four poster monstrosity. It was easily big enough for three or four Jonahs. The velvet coverlet was a deep red, and edged in little gold tassels. She could just see a crumb from the macaron beyond them.

It was tempting to just scuff the sugary smear leading from the table to the bed, and leave the cookie for someone else to clean up. She entertained a brief fantasy of Jonah waking up to a bunch of ants in his sheets, but even though it made her smile, she couldn’t do it.

Alice knelt down, pushing the ruffles and layers of her skirt to the side so she could get under the bed. It was pretty empty under there, and dark. She spotted some dust bunnies before her eyes landed on the cookie. And just past the escaped macaron - a, a doll?

All she could make out was a stitched arm and leg, stuffed and stubby. It looked like it was wearing a Red Army uniform too. Maybe someone else left it in the room. A soldier’s child on a visit or - well, anyone other than Jonah. Alice snagged the cookie and then reached back under the bed for the little, stubby arm of the toy.

“What are you doing under my bed?”

Alice blushed. Jonah had that effect, even when his voice was sharp enough to slice carrots. Without looking up at him she said, “I dropped a macaron.” Honesty was the best policy, even when it was embarrassing.

“Just leave it. I’ll get it later.”

The words were rushed, and . . . Alice considered this carefully but . . . nervous? Had he hidden the doll here on purpose? But that would mean he knew it was here. That it was his. She grinned wickedly, and pulled the doll the rest of the way out.

“Oh, I already got it. And this.” Alice held the doll up, getting her first good look at it. The doll was definitely wearing a Red Army uniform, with stiff white pants, red striped, a white jacket with little, gold buttons, and little leather boots on its feet. The face was adorable - big, dark button eyes and a shy little painted smile. With purple hair, made of thin yarn and pinned to the side by two white clips.

Jonah’s eyes went as round as tea saucers. “What? Alice! Put that down!”

Alice declined to follow that order. She held it up, considering. “Is this - you know, I think this looks a lot like Luka.” She glanced at Jonah. His porcelain perfect face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Just give it here. And forget you saw it.” He held his hands out for it.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will.” Alice held the doll by its two little arms and wiggled it in front of her. “It’s so cute. Does Luka know you have a doll that looks like him?”

Jonah’s mouth opened and closed without a sound. He reached for the doll, but Alice lifted the doll above her head. This might have worked if she was taller than the Queen, but he topped her by more than a head. She backed away from him, still trying to keep the Luka doll away. Right into the edge of the bed. That didn’t stop the Queen. Jonah kept coming, and the two of them tumbled onto the the velvet coverlet.

“You are the most nosey, stubborn, irritating woman,” he growled. Jonah grabbed the doll, but Alice wouldn’t let go.

“I think most of that is true, but you’re one to talk! You arrogant, beau- beastly jerk!”

Jonah stopped tugging at the doll and met Alice’s gaze. He was so close their noses almost touched. “Beastly? Really?”

“Well, yeah? You tackled me to the bed and now you’re wrestling me for a doll. My hair is mussed, my dress is wrinkled -”

“And you got crumbs on my bed,” he grumped. Jonah let go of the toy and sat up, still straddling the prone girl. “Will you just give me the doll? Please?”

Alice smiled. “Well, since you asked me nicely instead of ordering me around - yes.” She handed him the doll.

Jonah smiled at it sadly and set it on his pillow. Then he stood and held out a hand to Alice to help her up.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you have a Luka doll, Jonah? I know he’s your brother but - it just seems like an odd thing to keep around.”

The Queen sighed heavily. “Does he say anything about me? Does he talk about me?”

Alice shook her head. “Never. He looks grumpy when your name is mentioned.”

“Still.” Jonah looked so sad as he said this, that Alice felt all her built up aggravation at him drain away. “I wish he would talk to me. I want to at least understand why he left.” He looked at the doll as if it might answer him.

“Is that why you have it? Because you miss Luka?”

“Yes. Sometimes, I really just want to talk to him. Like we did when we were little. I - I know it’s just a doll but . . . it makes me feel a little better.” Jonah looked back at Alice, his eyes shining with held emotion. “You won’t tell him?”

“Of course not.” Alice took the Queen’s hand. “Your secret is safe with me. And . . . if I get the chance, I’ll let him know you still miss him.”

Jonah’s face lit up with a sudden smile. It was so unexpected, and so different from his usual, icy expression, that it took Alice completely by surprise. Her own lips twitched into a smile, the first real one she’d given Jonah, just for being himself.

“You know, you’re really very pretty when you smile like that,” he said. His fingers brushed her cheek.

Alice felt her heart begin to race. Traitor organ. “I could say the same thing to you.”

Jonah gave a rueful laugh. “I am supposed to be seducing you, Alice. Not the other way around.”

Though she didn’t say so, Alice thought today, he’d made a good start.

#ikemektober #ikemen revolution #ikerev jonah #ikemen jonah #jonah clemence #queen of hearts #otome #otome guys #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

41 notes · View notes

sleep-i-ness · 4 years

Text

Mission Worries (Bucky Barnes x Stark!reader)

Summary: Bucky Barnes isn’t trusted to go on missions and Tony Stark’s niece would probably die the minute she stepped foot in the field, if her previous training sessions are anything to go by. So, they are forced to sit around while their self-sacrificing friends and family run around, trying to save the world.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death of mom, drinking

All MCU Taglist: @perfecthideoutvixen @1marvelavengers1

Bucky Taglist: @holybatflapexpert

Bucky lay on the couch, the ratty blanket, which appeared to have once been white but had yellowed with age, half tucked under him. He flicked mindlessly through the channels; eyes staring intently on the moving pictures yet seemingly also not quite there, his gaze sightless. Settling on a cheerful and colourful musical, his fingers worried at the tassels on the pillow beneath his head and Bucky couldn’t help but lose focus as his thoughts drifted to the past.

Bucky knew this movie. He’d seen it before, back in 1939, before the war, before everything really. He’d managed to convince Steve to allow him to buy them tickets. Although money was scarce, it had been a successful season and Bucky was determined to spoil Steve for once. To be honest, he had thought that the film was hilarious if not utterly ridiculous, but it was worth it to watch Steve’s enraptured face as it turned from black and white to glorious technicolour. Flying monkeys. Who’d come up with that?

His thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard the soft patter of footsteps from the kitchen, muscles immediately tensing. Stark’s niece soon came out, balancing a couple bowls of buttered microwave popcorn and a large glass of some miscellaneous liquid as you stumbled into the living room. You plonked yourself down onto the second couch and sighed as you heard the cheesy tunes, which only served to exacerbate the pulsing in your head. Taking a large swig from the glass of amber liquid, you grimaced. It ran down your throat, warming you from the inside out, and you stared at your glass, turning it back and forth to watch how the liquid rippled under the light.

“Is that whisky?” A deep voice interrupted your reverie, startling you away from your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s scotch malt whisky,” you glanced at the figure stretched out on the couch, barely keeping your eyes open. “You see, I went to go steal some of Tony’s clothes because he’s got really fancy taste and they’re super comfy because they’re always the highest quality cotton or whatever. But then I found the minibar and decided it would be really fun to try some of his scotch. It’s really good, d’you want some?”

It was then Bucky noticed you were wearing one of Tony’s oversized sweaters and sweatpants, a hand gripped so tightly around the glass that your fingers were turning white. Lowering your shaking arm, you reached out for the popcorn, the grease from the butter covering your fingers with a shine.

“He’ll be okay, you know?” Bucky knew what it was like to worry about your friends and family; he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he needed to look after Steve. That he no longer had to keep an eye out for the little Manhattan boy. Sometimes, while out in New York, he still expected to round the corner of an alley and see Stevie sprawled on the floor. One thing Steve hadn’t lost over the past 70 years was his sense of justice and morality; he would stand up for what he believed in even if it meant disobeying his superiors. Bucky worried every time Steve went out on missions. With his past as the Winter Soldier, he still wasn’t trusted to join the rest of the Avengers and it meant that he couldn’t keep an eye on Steve, who was the most reckless little shit with no self-preservation instincts.

“Who? Tony? Yeah, I know, he’s always okay. A little battered and bruised but he survives.” You plastered a fake grin onto your face, trying desperately to convey in your tone that everything was just peachy.

You and Tony had never had the best relationship whilst your mom had been alive. He’d never been around; throwing wild parties that were renowned throughout the state, even the country. But once she’d died and he’d taken you in, you’d seen the man hidden beneath the facade. He was so much more than he would ever have himself believe. But your inability to shoot within a metre of a target and lack of fighting expertise meant you were never going to be trusted to head out into the field with him. Not that you particularly wanted to.

“You’re allowed to be worried; you don’t need to bottle it up.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. Can’t a girl have a drink without having some ulterior motive?” You chuckled, trying to play off the unnerving feeling that he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “So, the Wizard of Oz, huh? I didn’t have you pegged for the cheesy musical type.”

Bucky murmured some sort of assent at your remark, mostly absorbed by the film. You waited for a reply, nails tapping against the side of your glass.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted. Yeah, not usually, but I saw this one with Steve before the war broke out,” Bucky’s face softened as he thought back to those days. God, everything was so much simpler. When the only thing he had to worry about was keeping Steve out of trouble and taking dames out.

“Sounds nice. Long time ago though, I’m surprised you remember. Aren’t old people supposed to lose their memory?” You giggled at Bucky’s mock offended expression and stuck one bowl of popcorn in his direction. “Take. I can’t eat two whole bowls by myself.”

“I’d like to let you know that I’m not that old,” Bucky grumbled. “But thanks. Is that offer for a drink still on the table?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lemme ask JARVIS.” You waved your hand in the air. “Hey J, does Tony have any whisky in here?”

“Mr Stark has said that he does not approve of your drinking as you’re, and I quote, ‘basically still a child.’” The disembodied voice still made Bucky jump. Another thing he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. On previous missions he’d never had to encounter a talking house. And he’d seen a lot of weird shit.

“You told him, J?” Your mouth dropped in surprise as you clasped a hand to your heart. “Oh, your betrayal wounds me, JARVIS. Truly, you’ve permanently lost my trust.”

“Yes Miss Stark,” JARVIS replied dryly. It was weird how a machine could express some semblance of emotion.

“Can you tell him that it’s for Bucky here? Actually no, quote me and say that it’s for Mr Barnes.” You winked lazily at Bucky, half falling off the sofa as you leant over one arm of it. “Don’t want Tony getting all protective because he got the wrong idea.”

“Mr Stark wishes for me to tell Sergeant Barnes that he’d better be keeping his hands off his niece. And that there is no way he is letting either of you touch his expensive whisky.”

You groaned playfully and Bucky felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth as he stared at you. You were always one for the theatrics, clearly a Stark by nature. Slumping over the arm of the sofa, you seemed deep in thought, fingers steepled.

Sliding off your seat, you scooched over to the wall. Running your fingertips over the joins idly, you narrowed your eyes at the minimalistic decor.

"I've got it!"

You leapt up, eyes alight with mischief. Your enthusiasm was infectious.

"You've got what, doll?" The pet name rolled off Bucky's tongue, and he waited with bated breath for what he was sure was to be a rejection or expression of disgust. You seemed to not even have noticed; fingers running along the back panelling.

"Here!" Your fingers curled round the edge of one panel, tugging it out. "You have to keep this a secret,” you tapped your nose conspiratorially, “Tony likes his hidden compartments. Unfortunately for him, I discovered that little secret a while ago."

You pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and Bucky watched as it sloshed against the glass, sparkling under the light. Pouring it out into a crystal cut glass, your tongue poked out from between your lips as you concentrated. Smiling triumphantly, you passed the glass over to Bucky, narrowly avoiding spilling it all over the varnished wooden floors.

"Thanks doll." Bucky's voice was husky, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. Odd. You’d never had that reaction towards him before, so you blamed it on the alcohol. Not the fact that Bucky was undeniably attractive and a million miles out of your league.

"No... no worries," you stammered, wetting your lips.

The awkward silence stretched out between you as you shifted in your seat, sighing as you couldn’t quite find a comfortable spot. You slipped out of the chair dramatically, whisky splashing over the rim of your glass as you threw your arms up in the air.

"D'you wanna come sit next to me?" Bucky offered tentatively, shifting over into more of a sitting position so that there was room.

You felt your cheeks heat up. Stop acting like a teenager around their first crush, you thought frustratedly. Although you didn’t quite believe your ears, there was no way in hell you were letting this opportunity slip by.

"Yeah, sure."

You sat in the gap he’d left for you, acutely aware of how close you were to him without touching. A familiar ache settled in your chest, the desperate longing for physical contact or some form of affection. The tips of your fingers brushed against his t-shirt as you placed your hands beside you; the simple touch igniting the frantic need inside you.

God, you were so worried for Tony.

Every time they went out on missions, you feared that the team would disembark, and you would stand there waiting for that familiar red-and-gold suit, but he wouldn’t emerge. That Captain Rogers would place a gentle hand on your shoulder and tell you the words you’d dreaded to hear.

He was just a man in a fancy piece of armour, trying to make the world a better place.

The Avengers was one hell of a fancy name for a hodgepodge team that sometimes couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as each other. And your uncle was part of them. Yes, you were so proud. But every time Tony told you he had another mission, your heart sank, and you prayed that he’d make it back in one piece.

You shrunk into yourself, eyes glazed as you wrapped your arms tightly around your midriff. Bucky’s proximity was achingly comforting, his presence making your world feel a little safer.

But all you wanted was to be in his arms.

However, for fear of frightening him off, you sat still, back stiff as a poker. Millimetres away from making contact but too hesitant to even try.

“Y/N, that sure doesn’t look comfortable, sitting like that. You alright?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at your rigid posture, “I can shift over more if you’d prefer?”

“No, no, I’m all good,” your words rushed out, not wanting to put him through any trouble.

Bucky’s eyes never left you as the almost offensively cheery show tunes blared in the background, a sharp contrast to the way your chest felt restricted as you blinked back unwillingly tears.

“Come here, sugar.” Bucky spoke softly, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and opening up his body towards you. You shuffled closer, hesitantly leaning your head on his shoulder. Bucky’s arm slipped around you, pulling you closer. “Now do you wanna talk about it?”

You bit your lip, eyes welling as you tried to bottle your emotions back up.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. If you’re more enticed by watching this cheesy horror show, just lemme know. But I’m here if you wanna talk to someone.”

You cracked a small smile at his quip about the film, eyes downcast as you played with your hands.

“I’m just so fucking worried for Tony.”

The words burst out of their own accord, followed swiftly by a traitorous tear which trickled down your cheek. You brushed the back of your hand roughly under your eye, swiping away any other tears that threatened to fall.

Bucky stayed quiet, prompting you to continue talking.

“Every single time he goes out on a mission, I’m worried I’ll get a call saying he didn’t make it. Because Tony is so stupidly self-sacrificing. You heard about New York and the bomb; I’m terrified, absolutely fucking terrified, he’ll decide to pull a New York 2.0 and I’ll never see him again. All everyone knows is this cocky, charismatic man that he plays the part of to the rest of the world but I’m scared that Tony will never realise how fucking amazing he is ‘cause he’s stuck in his father’s shadow. And maybe if he does, he won’t feel like he has to single-handedly save the world. Even if he must sacrifice himself for it. And I know that is so selfish. But he’s done so much for me… Without him, I don’t know what I would’ve done after my mother’s death. And he’s my only family left.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, exhaling softly. “At the end of the day, he’s just a man wearing some fancy armour. Not trained, not scientifically enhanced. However, he doesn’t seem to realise his own mortality.”

A deep breath, a pause.

Your bottom lip quivered, and you buried your head in Bucky’s shoulder, the fabric dampening as your body was wracked with sobs. You felt so silly, crying to a man who probably didn’t really want to hear your problems and was just being polite.

Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, gently massaging circles with his thumb. “It’s okay, doll. It is completely valid to worry about him. I guarantee that Tony would do anything and everything in his capability to come back to you in one piece. But I am always here for you if you feel worried or scared.”

You could feel his voice rumbling in his chest and you curled into him, lifting your head up to blink tearily at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

You wondered how he felt, knowing that his best friend was out risking his life while he still wasn’t trusted to leave the compound without a team tailing him. Did he also worry for Captain Rogers? Or did he feel secure in the fact that the Captain had the super-soldier serum and therefore was practically invincible?

The TV blared in the background- And oh, Auntie Em there's no place like home! The irritatingly joyous voice of Dorothy was perpetually annoying, no matter when or where you heard it. You missed the days when you’d watch these musicals and never get bored, enraptured by the stories and music. Life was so much simpler before your mom fell ill. Before you moved into the Tower and then into the compound when you’d finished college.

You were thankful that Tony had offered you a place to stay even after he had put you through college and had no legal obligations to look after you anymore. But you felt like an impediment and a nuisance because you always seemed to be in the way.

A degree in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science was not particularly useful for the hands-on type of situations that occurred at the compound. Not over a week ago, you’d found yourself in the gym with Agent Barton who had kindly offered to teach you some form of self-defence. To say it went badly was an understatement.

And now you were being a nuisance to Bucky, the one person who hadn’t yet seen you as an unnecessary resident.

“I’m sorry for being such a pain. Thanks for listening, but I was just overreacting,” you sniffled as you tried to pull away from where you lay nestled into his chest. However, his arm kept you close.

“Y/N, I mean it,” Bucky gently lifted your head, two fingers under your chin, to make eye contact. “You are not being a nuisance. I enjoy your company and I am always here for you to talk to. Always.”

You stared into his baby-blues, pulling your lip between your teeth. His thumb hovered by the side of your face, two fingers still holding your head up, and you held your breath. You didn’t want to break the moment.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm rang out, signalling the team’s return. You jumped apart, eyes wide as you listened out for the pattern of the alarm.

The short repetition of regular beeps meant that the mission had gone down smoothly, and you felt a wave of calm rush over you. Bucky sighed beside you and you turned to him with a relieved grin, all thoughts of your previous position gone.

“They’re fine.” You exhaled, resting your head once again against Bucky’ shoulder. “Do you want to go meet them in the tactical room? We could probably sneak into their debrief.”

Bucky’s smile was almost wistful as he gazed at you. “Whatever you want, doll.”

You hesitated; something was niggling at you, as if you were forgetting to do something first. Exhaling softly, you glanced down at Bucky’s lips. Why not? You could always blame it on the alcohol if he rejected you.

You leant in and softly pressed your lips to his.

Pulling away, you brushed a strand of hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ear. His face was unreadable. Oh God. Now you’d really gone and fucked it up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-”

Bucky cut you off, grabbing your hips as he hauled you onto his lap. “Don’t apologise, doll.”

His eyes were stunningly blue.

All further thoughts were promptly wiped as he brought his lips down to yours. His arms were around you and his insistent lips parted yours, creating sensations you’d never felt before. Feeling as if you were drowning, his arms were the only thing keeping you from going under. You could taste faint whisky and the scent of his cologne filled your senses, evoking a fire in your veins. You hadn’t ever felt such a desire for someone before, and, before the swimming giddiness took you over, you wrapped your legs round his hips.

Bucky’s hand slipped from your hips to grab your ass, and suddenly you understood why people describe kissing as intoxicating. Every inch of your body seemed to melt into his touch, craving more, as you entwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The hand gently cupping your cheek drew lines of flames across your skin, aching with desire.

“Get the fuck off away from my niece.” Tony burst in, repulsor raised as he gritted out his words. “Now, Barnes.”

You leapt off him, hands raised as Tony glared at the man you’d just been sitting on. The lack of nicknames or funny quips showed just how pissed off he was.

Without Captain Rogers or Agent Romanoff, you weren’t sure what you would have done. They forced Tony to go back to mission debrief, although you’d caught the wink the Captain had given Bucky. You had heard Tony threatening to chuck a certain ex-assassin out of the compound all the way down the corridor, but it would hopefully give him time to cool off.

And to somewhat accept what he’d seen.

Somewhat.

Bucky chuckled softly. “That was a surprise.”

“Yeah.” You murmured in agreement, sitting back down to lean against him. You didn’t think you’d have to worry too much about feeling lonely during missions anymore.

80 notes · View notes