#and bad people do bad things for - deep deep down - good reasons. reasons they deem enough.

[melonpond]

I think it should be absolutely mandatory that people work at least a month in a blue collar job and take time to learn about their coworkers before making a statement about blue collar work. I simply think it would fix so many things.

[heirbane]

(but at the end of the day, even Solus and Zenos are human, too: one who lost their humanity over eons of life and one who may not have ever truly known his own. It does not make how they acted or what they did right: but what they did was to find some crumb of peace, a modicum of remembrance, a splinter of a something. And wanting those is not wrong.)

[lauraneedstochill]

My first choice (part 2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eyed prince to fall in love with. pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~8500 (this is why I divided it into 2 parts lmao) warnings: friends to lovers, more angst (death of a parent, attempted harassment), hurt/comfort, an embarrassing amount of softness, Aegon is the smartest one for once author’s note: this is heavily inspired by “Little women” (2019) and Amy March in particular (read the rest of my long-ass explanation in part 1). again, I apologize for the angst! it gets worse before it gets better.

 Part 2. In a room full of art I stare at you.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Aemond. Maybe you were too blind to notice until it was too late or maybe you were doomed from the start. From the moment when the boy, who everyone deemed to be intimidating and reclusive, bent down to you to offer help without any hesitation. The second-born son of the King, tall and close-mouthed, surely had more important things to do than waste time on a strange girl crying over her stupid dress — and yet, he only showed you solicitude, asking for nothing in return.

You thought that mayhaps you owed him, and were seeking the opportunity to return the favor. Or at least that’s how you tried to justify the fact that you were looking for him every chance you got. You often found a reason to chat with Aemond during dinners and feasts, feeling bad for him spending time on his own — and you learned that he was very easy to talk to. You made sure to visit the training yard if he was there and sometimes stayed to watch him train for hours, even — or especially — when everyone else already left. His tenacity and strength had certain allure but under all those layers, you saw a lonely boy whose only friend was probably his dragon.

Despite the circumstances and his preferred solitude, Aemond never rejected your company, however sudden it might have been. Even when Aegon foolishly suggested playing hide and seek one evening, bored out of his mind, and you busted into the library and stumbled upon Aemond, who looked like he had no interest in silly games. And yet, when you awkwardly asked for the best place to hide at, he guided you to the enclosed area of the reading room. It was dimly lit by just a few candles and, somewhere between feeling uncomfortable and getting scared, you reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away. Furthermore, he stayed with you and cheered you up with stories about Old Valyria, making you forget about any childish fears.

As the two of you have grown older, you often heard people being frightened by Aemond’s disposition but you found there to be no ground for that. He’s never been rude to you nor had he lost his temper, regardless of circumstances — and the day you saw him without the eyepatch for the first time was the prime example of that. It was getting late and Aegon had too much to drink and, while running around in a drunken stupor, he cut his hand somewhere in the yard. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep but he was bleeding and refused to get help, against your best wishes. He was babbling that scars adorn a man — and then, in an attempt to escape you chasing him, he barged into Aemond’s chambers. You ran in merely a second after, with explanations at the ready, and were met with his younger brother standing there, looking startled. It took you a second to realize he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.

“My scar will be easier to hide,” Aegon giggled, not recognizing the gravity of the situation.

It was the only time you had to make an effort not to slap him in the face. You thought it was mostly a secondhand embarrassment, which was part of the experience of being Aegon’s friend, but the look on Aemond’s face, hurt and humiliated, also made your heart ache.

“His scar is a reminder of his bravery and the strength of his character that he should only be proud of,” you gave Aegon a death stare. “Yours will be a reminder of your idiocy.”

It seemed to work as his smile vanished and he even muttered an apology, leaving hurriedly to call for the maester. When you turned to Aemond, he already had his eyepatch on, and you fought the urge to come and take him by the hand again. You didn’t want to bother him at such a late hour, so you opted to offer an apology, too, and leave him be.

“His behavior was unworthy. But I meant what I said,” you turned to Aemond on your way out. “And the sapphire looks very pretty,” you could swear you saw a trace of a smile on his face but you chose not to think much of it.

With every encounter, sudden or not, and every conversation, most of which were too short for your liking, you were making more room for Aemond in your heart. You should’ve known you were a lost cause when you actually told yourself — out loud, with hands grabbing the edges of your table — “I will not fall in love with him.” At that point, you already did. He always worked so hard to be seen — and you only had eyes for him all along.

You hid your true feelings well enough for anyone to take notice — but your father was no fool. He also knew better than to meddle with whatever your thinking process was. So he watched from afar for quite some time, until you started catching his curious glances on you every time you went to talk to Aemond. Predictably, after yet another feast he could not resist bringing up the topic.

“Did the royal menace have too many cups of wine again? Haven’t seen him this evening,” he adored Aegon whole-heartedly, and you suspected that their shared love for crude humor was the main reason for that. You didn’t mind.

“Wasn’t that many, actually,” you chuckled. “But he asked me and Aemond to help him to his chambers, said he wasn’t in the mood today.”

“Well, you seem to really enjoy Aemond’s company. I assume that the feeling is mutual?” he looked expressively at you.

Your face grew hot at his words. You also felt your heart break just a little.

“We are merely friends,” you told him, your smile too tense to be believable.

There was a shadow of concern in your father’s gaze, followed by a sad sigh.

“You will let me know if anything changes, though?” he mustered a smile in return and his was much brighter than yours.

“You will be the first one to know,” you promised as he came closer to bring you into a bear hug. You never spoke of it again.

Surprisingly, the only other person who seemed to have suspicions about the nature of your and Aemond’s relationship was his father, the King. You didn’t think he was aware of your existence, and even when your friendship with Aegon grew stronger and you became a regular guest at the castle, you soon realized Viserys barely paid any mind to his younger kids’ whereabouts. You would catch a glimpse of him in the halls and curtsy out of politeness but didn’t expect him to notice. You got too comfortable with his absence — so much so, that one day, when Aegon was carrying your supplies and humorously complained about the lack of art in the castle, you blithely suggested painting a portrait of the King. The last thing you expected was for said man to step out of the corner.

“I would be delighted,” he cut right to the chase. “Lady Y/N, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look scary up close, his face wrinkled and a tad too tired, but quite benevolent. He simply asked if you would be content with drawing him on the Iron Throne and you agreed, just as easily. Truth be told, you didn’t think he would follow up on his offer — being the King and all that, but he sent a carriage down to fetch you literally the next day. Viserys took the task with juvenile ardor, bombarding you with questions — what pose to take, what paint do you use, how quickly will it dry and how did you learn to draw. After he was satisfied with the answers, he changed the subject.

“My wife considers you to have a positive influence on my eldest son,” he pointed out with ill-concealed interest.

“I deeply appreciate her trust but I believe that he is capable of changing on his own,” you corrected him courtly.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he disagreed with a mischievous grin. “I’ve only heard good words about your guidance. It seems that you rein him back so easily, you would’ve made for a fine wife.”

You silently groaned at his comment.

“Your grace, I can assure you, our relationship is strictly of a friendly nature.”

“Oh, I know, I have seen you two,” he said, laughing, and when you peered at him, you saw that it wasn’t his usual uncomfortable-looking crooked grin but an actual genuine laugh.

“Shall you ever lay an eye on any other of my sons,” Viserys continued, much to your surprise. “Do not hesitate to tell me,” and his face suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You ducked behind the canvas so he didn’t see your heated cheeks.

His suggestion lodged in your memory and even though you wouldn’t dare to actually approach the King, you held out hope that maybe he would give Aemond a similar hint. But months passed, Viserys’s condition drastically worsened, and for whatever reason, he never mended the relationship with his children. And eventually, your hope was gone.

You didn’t lie to Aemond when you told him about having power over who you love. But you failed to mention that said power has its limits — and doesn’t guarantee that your feelings won’t be one-sided. You learned that lesson the hard way when you had to face up to the reality you were in. Your love for Aemond seemed to be as infinite as the ocean — and you had to fit it in a fragile vessel of your heart. At first, you felt the waves raging at the mere glance of his, at every gesture of his goodwill or just upon hearing his voice. The storm of your feelings would splash over the rocks of your self-control but you survived the roaring torrent of love, time after time. The rough ocean grew calm over the years as you came to terms with being in love with someone who didn’t love you back.

You did choose to harbor feelings for Aemond, and you had no regrets about that. But when adulthood came with its own responsibilities that you had to focus on, all your energy was put into finding a husband. You were aware that your choice would have a major impact on your family as their stability depended on it. You approached the issue in a cold-hearted manner, prioritizing the duty above all else. Mayhaps, you were too calculated in your pursuit, and that was how you ended up accepting the courtship of a man who had nothing to give but his wealth.

When it comes to Jason, he never ceases to evoke a few feelings, too, but none of them are pleasant. His arrogance is the first thing that catches the eye — he’s wrapped in it and wears it with pride as if it’s another title of his. You often have to bite your tongue and fake a smile in response to his dismissive remarks and borderline vulgar comments. It doesn’t help that his self-esteem is inflated beyond your comprehension, and if only he could put his own face on their House’s sigil, he would. You are grateful that he keeps his hands to himself but you notice him getting quite handsy with the maids, and it gives you an unsettling feeling. His behavior is so disdainful and frivolous, you have no doubts that once you are married, you will be merely an accessory to him, a pretty wife to show off to his friends without taking your opinion into account. Showing off is the one thing he does best — and each time you can’t help but compare him to Aemond who doesn’t even know how to take a compliment. You find yourself thinking about the prince every time Jason comes by, and these thoughts help you get through tiresome promenades with the lord and endure boring dinners with him.

But after your last conversation with Aemond, you force yourself to stop thinking about him altogether. That decision is remorseless but you believe it’s for the better — or at least that’s what you convince yourself to think after you run out of the garden and into your carriage, only caring about getting home as soon as possible. You pretend that nothing happened, lying to your parents that the prince was too busy and you had to return earlier than planned. And then you lock yourself in your chambers, with hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of crying. A small part of you hopes that Aemond will come to you the same day and explain himself. But he doesn’t. When you don’t hear from him for another two days, you come to the conclusion that he regretted his sudden outburst. And that his words actually held no meaning.

Cutting Aemond out of your life does seem to be attainable with some time, and you perceive it as just another task, another skill you can master. But getting him out of your head seems like an impossible goal from the start. You are so used to keeping memories of him, cherishing each and every one, you can’t just erase them all at once. You try your best, you do so with ferocious persistence, but there’s always some annoying little reminder ready to surface and catch you off guard at the most inopportune moment.

It gets even harder when four days later you find yourself sitting next to Jason who is even more presumptuous than usual. At this point, you feel like your nerves are at the limit, so you can’t even find it in yourself to keep up the act. You push your food around the plate, jumping from one pointless thought to another: the tasteless meal, the barely visible crack in your cup, the revolting tone of the lord’s voice. You feel your mother staring at you, clearly displeased with your attitude, yet Jason is oblivious, too wrapped up in bragging about his winery — or whatever else he is talking about, you have no idea because you stopped paying attention about twenty minutes ago.

You think if you stay by his side any longer, you will be physically sick.

So you get up from the table — may be a bit too dramatic for your own liking — and muster out a weak excuse:

“My apologies, I am in need of fresh air.”

You leave before anyone has a chance to stop you.

It seems like an act of disobedience but there’s so much freedom in it, you feel that you can finally take a breath. And you do exactly that once you reach the balcony, several corridors away from the dining hall that felt stuffed with Jason’s ego. As you stand there, soaking up the last rays of the sun, you can’t ignore the obvious question — how is it even possible to marry someone you absolutely cannot tolerate. You never had illusions about the nature of your relationship with him but you at least hoped there would be some ground to build your future on. At yet, right now it looks like you are trying to lay a foundation in the quicksand. For a man of a noble lineage, Jason knows too little of what nobility actually is, and you have enough self-respect to not give him explanations. The prospect of marrying him makes your duty feel like a burden, and you contemplate if you should even take the risk.

You are lost in your thoughts until you hear a thin voice:

“Do you know where the sun lands?”

You turn to find your sister Alyna standing at the door, in her long white nightgown and barefoot, her eyes unnaturally large for her baby-like face. She always talks like that, too thoughtful for her young age, and sometimes she reminds you of Helaena. There you go, another connection to Aemond.

“I do not, my sweetling. Wherever that place is, it’s a well-guarded secret,” you comb her curly hair with your fingers as her curious eyes study your face.

“Maybe it doesn't want to be seen,” she deduces. “Just like you don't.”

Her ability to get straight to the point sometimes blindsides you. It’s also quite liberating to talk to someone who hasn’t yet learned the skill of pretense, and she may be the only sibling of yours with no ulterior motives or hidden agenda. Alyna tilts her head, signaling that she isn’t enjoying your touch anymore — and when you remove your hand, she says, out of the blue:

“Just like Ser Lannister doesn’t.”

You stare at her in bewilderment, and only then notice that the hallway behind her is empty. It dawns on you that Alyna’s nanny Dorea is nowhere to be found. She is only a couple of years older than you, meek and quiet, her trusting nature ever so defenseless — but she is also very pretty. Too pretty for her own good, as your mother likes to say.

You feel a wave of nausea again. This time, it’s followed by a sense of dread curdling in your stomach.

“What did he do?” your voice comes out unusually calm, in striking contrast with how you are really feeling.

“I heard him talking to Dorea outside my chambers. I wanted to join the conversation but he asked me to leave,” her brows slightly furrow. “He said there are some things I am not supposed to see.”

It may be the first thing you and Jason can agree on, you think. It is also the only thing because you certainly will never agree to marry him — and that realization frees you of any false politeness and self-restraint.

“What are those things?” Alyna naively asks, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I shall go and ask him,” you pat her on the cheek. “But you stay here, alright? I will be back before you know it.”

Usually, it would take about a minute to reach your sister’s chambers, but you cover the distance twice as fast. You are a couple of feet away when you hear muffled voices — one is demanding, the other one is scared, and both are well-known to you. You grasp the situation in no time and run to quickly open the door. When you walk in, you feel a flare-up of anger at the sight: Jason grabbed Dorea by the hips, trying to pull her closer, as she weakly protests, her palms pushing at his chest in an attempt to get away. The squeak of the door makes them turn their heads to you, and you see the distressed look on the nanny’s face.

And then their gazes fall behind your back, and Dorea gets horrified.

You easily guess the reason for that — your younger sister isn’t very good at following orders. So Alyna mumbles, standing next to you and looking at her nanny:

“I do not think she likes it.”

“Neither do I,” you throw Jason a baleful stare. “Let her go and get out.”

He removes his hands — so carelessly, it almost seems like he’s offended by your suggestion of his wrongdoing. Dorea immediately comes to your side, ashamed and distraught.

“Did he hurt you?” you inquire, helping to adjust her dress.

“My lady, I think you misinterpreted —” Jason tries to say but you shut him off.

“I am not talking to you,” you scowl in his direction. Your face softens when you ask Dorea again: “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, sheepishly trying to explain:

“I didn’t do anything, I-I didn’t want to, and he said... He said he is a lord and I sh-should be flattered.”

Not only did Jason has the audacity to pull that off but he also wanted to do so at your little sister’s chambers — and you simmer at the thought.

“I believe you,” you gently stroke her shoulder. “I promise you will never see him again.”

“These are some unrealistic expectations,” Jason sneers, walking to you but his grin dies down when you look at him again.

“I know your opinion of women isn’t very high — trust me, the feeling is mutual — but you cannot seriously believe you will fool me,” you sense that now he isn’t pleased with your attitude but you don’t care. “When I told you to get out, I meant it. You are not welcome in this house.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wise decision to make if we are to be wed,” Jason contemptuously hisses.

“Then I guess the wedding is off,” you glare defiance at him. “But whoever you end up marrying, I hope she outlives you. Just so she can spit on your grave,” the last part is meant only for him to hear.

And he definitely does as his face reddens with rage. Jason roughly grabs you by the hand, and your nose fills with the stench of wine when he speaks:

“You are in no position to make demands,” he drawls. “Your family is in debt up to its ears, you little halfwit, so I suggest you choose your words very carefully.”

While he doesn’t see it, Alyna looks between you two, and, out of the corner of your eye, you notice her frowning. She doesn’t do well with conflicts as they upset her deeply, which can only trigger one reaction. Before you can say anything, a high-pitched scream shatters the room, echoing through the whole house.

Jason removes his hand within a second, looking shocked, but Alyna stands innocently with her mouth closed as if nothing happened. Your parents come to her chambers in the blink of an eye.

“What is wrong?” your mother looks at you all uncomprehendingly.

“Ser Lannister got lost,” you cooly explain. “He is already leaving.”

“And why is that?” your father glares at him with suspicion.

You want to spare Dorea the humiliation so you pause for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. But Alyna has no understanding of what a maiden’s honor is — and she loudly proclaims:

“Ser Lannister was touching Dorea, and she didn’t like it.”

No one in the room needs an explanation for that.

“You shameless scoundrel!” your father roars at Jason, who unsurprisingly isn’t as courageous as before.

“Ser, there clearly has been a mistake — ”

“It was a mistake to let you in,” your father rudely interrupts him. “You won’t set foot in my house ever again. Get out of here before I make you!”

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice and storms out of the room as your father’s gaze follows him. He stands with hands clenched into fists, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“Pompous jerk,” he mumbles under his breath. “And to think that I was willing to give him my daughter’s hand...!” his voice breaks, hoarse with ire, and you notice a vein pop on his forehead. You have never seen him so furious.

“He’s been dealt with,” you cautiously say to ease the tension. “That shouldn’t be a cause for your concern anymore.”

He turns to you, his eyes bloodshot and breathing heavy. As you step closer, you hear whistling sounds with his every breath, and his gaze gets absent. You realize that something is wrong as he opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

“Father, are you alright?”

He places a hand over his heart, trying to inhale, a look of fear in his eyes. The chain of events is too sudden to comprehend: his breathing begins to wheeze as he squirms, falls flat on his back and convulses.

And then your evening turns out to be way worse than you could’ve ever imagined. A week later Aegon wakes up at an ungodly hour — and he’s fueled by sole determination to put an end to everyone’s misery. Surely, he must be the only sane person in his house since all his family members seem to be oblivious to what is going on between you and Aemond. Aegon, however, can use his eyes for their intended purpose — and it is clear as day to him that you and his brother are in love with each other.

He caught on to that pretty fast, although the signs were not that obvious at first: you often smile to people purely out of politeness and Aemond may not show his true feelings even under threat of death. So Aegon kept secretly observing you two, taking note of fleeting glances and light touches, of the way you would relax in Aemond’s presence, the way he was always too eager to help you with whatever you needed, and how you two would gravitate toward each other. Both his brother and his best friend were annoyingly stubborn about making their own decisions so Aegon didn’t mean to interrupt — or at least he tried not to. But when your evident mutual pining stretched into years, Aegon started losing his patience.

In the beginning, he initiated small things, asking Aemond to come and greet you (“Oh, I just woke up! And you are already dressed for the occasion”), to deliver you his hand-written message (“Yes, it is incredibly important and I trust no one but you!” — it was his doodling of Aemond), to keep you company during the feast while Aegon stepped out for a moment (he didn’t come back). He asked him to switch places at dinner (so you and Aemond could sit together), to help find the books you wanted (“All those years of you reading should be good for something”), to pick up the portrait of his children (“They are your nephews, is it so hard?! No, I am not being dramatic!”). A couple of times he even pretended to be way more drunk than he actually was just so you and Aemond could help him to his chambers and spend some time alone in the process. None of that worked. At some point, he seriously contemplated locking you both in a room but then came to the conclusion that you would rather team up to find a way out than confess your feelings. Truly, it seemed hopeless, and Aegon thought that maybe he should give up.

But as of recently he couldn’t help but notice that something was clearly off between you and Aemond, although the younger prince refused to talk about it, and you simply stopped visiting the castle. He decided to give it a day or two, hoping that you would sort things out and refusing to even consider the opposite. A week passed and nothing changed, and Aegon cannot bear looking at Aemond’s sour face any longer. So the older prince comes up with a plan.

He is unexpectedly the first one at the breakfast table and everyone who walks in shoots him a surprised glance. They are amazed even more to see that Aegon isn’t drinking which is as rare as a miracle. Aemond comes last and he is the only one who doesn’t notice the change, too wrapped up in his thoughts. Another thing that goes unnoticed is the gleam of sadness on their mother’s face.

Five minutes in, Aegon clears his throat to attract everyone’s attention.

“So, I was thinking,” he drawls loudly.

“That does not sound good,” Otto mutters, unimpressed, which Aegon chooses to ignore and continues.

“Lady Baratheon’s poor taste in men shouldn’t be an obstacle in our way of reaching the grand goal.”

“Which is...?” Otto asks while the younger prince doesn’t move an ear.

“To find a lady worthy of my brother, of course!” Aegon tries his best to say it with a straight face.

Aemond spares him a glance. “I didn’t know you took much interest in that.”

“I always have your best interest in mind,” Aegon slaps him on the shoulder earning a disgruntled hum in return.

“I was just thinking if we should go over the list of requirements once more,” Aegon suggests.

“I don’t have a li—”

“Of course you do!” another slap. “At the very least, she should be of a noble kind. Am I right?”

“Sure,” Aemond absentmindedly agrees.

“And we are definitely looking for someone who is keen on reading.”

“Yes,” Aemond rolls his eye and looks at his plate, already showing no interest in the conversation. That is exactly what Aegon wants — and he starts talking a bit faster:

“Someone with a flexible nature...”

“U-hmm.”

“And with a kind heart...”

“Yes.”

“A great listener...”

“Uh-huh”

“Who will attend to your every need...”

“Sure.”

“And may even be of indescribable beauty...”

“Hmm.”

“...And you will still be miserable because you love Y/N.”

“Yes,” Aemond says without thinking — and then it’s too late to take his word back because everyone’s eyes are already on him. When he turns to his brother, Aegon has a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You are welcome.”

Alicent looks genuinely confused. “Aemond, but why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for years,” Aegon snorts, and Otto raises an eyebrow.

“Years?” his grandsire questions.

“I almost gave up on him,” Aegon keeps talking while his brother just sits there, eye glued to the table.

“She was the one who drew the portrait of our father,” Helaena cheerfully speaks up. “And he kept it.”

“He did,” Alicent nods and gives her son a sympathetic look. “Aemond, she is an admirable young lady. No one would have spoken against it if only you —”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aemond cuts her off, averting his gaze. “She is to be betrothed to Ser Lannister, and I do not intend to ruin her plans.”

“You cannot be serious!” Aegon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shall you find the courage to propose, she will immediately reject him!”

“She already did,” Alicent avows, to everyone’s surprise.

Aemond looks up at his mother in an instant.

“Did she?” he asks in disbelief.

Alicent gives him a wan smile.

“A week ago, yes. It is rumored that his behavior... left much to be desired,” she explains half-heartedly. Her face, however, doesn’t show any signs of happiness.

“That seems like a reason to celebrate but it doesn’t sound like it,” Aegon looks at her questioningly, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation.

Alicent dithers as her face falls, eyes getting woeful and voice feeble.

“Her father fell ill that very day. Some say he got too upset with the whole situation, and I...,” she takes a deep breath. “I received a message this morning. He passed away three nights ago.”

Everyone falls silent, their faces showing shock that is quickly replaced by sadness.

“Seven hells,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond doesn’t utter a word, feeling his heart sinking. He knows that you’ve always been your father’s daughter, and the prince cannot even begin to imagine how heartbroken you are right now. He should’ve been there for you, he thinks, full with remorse and guilt.

“You should go,” Aegon turns to him, not a hint of jesting in his voice. “We may give her some time to grieve, but I will gladly take Sunfyre out for —”

“Why would you need to?” Aemond gives him a puzzled look. “I can take Vhagar.”

Aegon emits a long-drawn groan and says to no one in particular:

“And to think he is the smartest one? I am having doubts”, he then glances at Aemond with reproach. “I am sure her mourning family will not at all get terrified at the sight of your monstrous dragon.”

His brother mulls over the idea.

“It is not safe to fly drunk.”

“I will be stone-cold sober.”

“You believe both of us will fit into the saddle?” 

“We will fit just fine, can you stop with your excuses?! I am being reasonable for once, and you are making me regret it!”

“I don’t think it would be wise,” Otto cuts in their bickering, and both princes turn to him.

He holds pause with a blank stare before a sly smile crawls out on his face.

“I would rather recommend the prince goes right away. We don’t want her family to make any rushed decisions,” their grandsire advises, earning a sign of relief from Aegon, who jumps out of his chair.

“We’re leaving this very second! Do I need to drag you out of your —”

“You do not,” Aemond stands up in a hurry — and then Aegon still grabs him by the hand, pulling his brother out of the room.

Alicent gazes fondly after them.

“It was very kind of you,” she says to her father without looking at him.

Otto thinks that, with how well you’ve been handling Aegon, marrying you to Aemond would be a blessing. Because gods know, he is fed up with them both.

On their way to the Dragonpit Aegon can barely hold back his excitement but his brother’s mind is clearly elsewhere. The older prince lets Aemond take time to gather his thoughts and doesn’t bother him along the road. But once they reach the cavernous building and both pop out of the carriage, Aegon decides some encouragement would be fitting. 

“Have I ever told you how I met her? That day at the feast?”

Mentioning your name always works wonders — Aemond turns to him in a flash.

“I was jesting around and she was the only one who didn’t laugh at my jokes. At all. Just stood there with a straight face and ignored me. Can you imagine?” 

Aemond does know the unimpressed look you usually give Aegon, and it causes him to let out a dull chuckle.

“Took me good five minutes to even make her smile — and, frankly, my success didn’t last very long. Pretty sure half of my jokes landed flat. But you know what was the real issue?” Aegon’s smile is melancholic. “Most of the evening she kept asking about you.”

Aemond looks like the very epitome of heartbreak. Not only was he blind, he was also an idiot, he realizes.

“I know, I should’ve told you sooner,” Aegon gives him an apologetic look.

Aemond shakes his head. “I should’ve told her sooner.”

“Well, it’s only been what, seven years?” his brother chortles weakly while the dragon keepers finally bring out Sunfyre, and the dragon casts Aemond a curious look.

Aegon approaches the beast first, running his hand over the scales that shine bright in the sunlight, and the prince can never get tired of that blinding beauty. But his excitement mingles with another feeling.

“I value her friendship, you do know that, right?” he squints at Aemond, who simply nods.

“This is my way of saying that if you mess it up, I might push you off my dragon on our way back,” Aegon casually remarks, grabbing the rope to climb up.

Aemond falters with answering, reluctant to admit.

“There is a chance that I already messed it up.”

Aegon looks down at his brother and gives him a stern glare.

“Unmess it, then.” You don’t remember much from the past week, your days and nights blurred into one another. The only thing that stays on your mind is your father’s face — you can still see it so clearly, with his gentle gaze and his every wrinkle, the corners of his mouth always upturn like he’s a second away from smiling. You also remember how that face contorted in pain, how his body stiffened, and that scene plays on repeat in your head, over and over. And then there are only pieces of memories, torn and mushed together, and you can’t find it in yourself to sort them out.

You spend all your time at your father’s bedside, with a string of never-ending prayers falling from your lips. They don’t seem to help — and nor do the maester’s efforts, and you lose hope with each passing minute. As hours fly, you get a very bad feeling that soon turns into blood-curdling awareness. Deep down, you know what’s to come, and you hate yourself for it. You think you will never stop crying but by the time the maester declares your father’s demise, there are no tears left. Death has many faces — none of them looked at you with mercy.

Your mother wails, overtaken by despair, your sisters don’t leave her side, eyes puffy and full of sorrow, and you are sure that you look the same — yet you feel completely empty. There’s a cleft in a place of your heart, and all the feelings seemed to flow out, leaving you drained and emotionless, but it brings you no relief. Everything in your house reminds you of your father, his presence tangible in the rooms and in the halls, his image still as clear as a reflection in the mirror. The memories of him crawl out of every corner, seep from under the doors, fall on you along with the dust you brush off his things that you can’t make yourself take away.

Stacks of hardcovers with bookmarks in the middle.

The unfinished cup of wine.

The long grey coat hanging on the back of his chair.

Piles of letters left unanswered.

Parchments, ink and a quill that he will never use again.

All the pieces of him that you can’t look at, don’t want to look at — yet it’s all you see, and there’s is no hiding from it. You feel trapped in your own house, and you wait for the walls to collapse so maybe under the weight of them you will find some peace. You are restless in your grief, you are drowning in it.

The day of the funeral leaves a blank space in your memory, void of colors and sounds apart from everyone’s crying. The ceremony is rushed and there is only a handful of family members since your mother couldn’t bring herself to tell everyone yet. You don’t blame her for it — you think she’s too afraid to say it out loud, afraid that speaking the words will make them real, and she’ll have to finally accept his death. You have no problem with acceptance, you just don’t know how to move on. How to stay strong when you are shattered beyond repair.

Your home now feels like a coffin but everyone expects you to be in charge, so you force yourself to. Merely an hour after his body was buried in soil wet with rain, you find yourself sorting out his papers. You look through his diary, his scribbled notes, the calculations he made in attempts to stabilize the emptying coffers. He’s always been the responsible one, keeping count and cutting costs, planning for the future — and yet he’s been robbed of it. None of it makes sense to you and your father isn’t there to teach you. You clench your teeth in frustration, and it makes you want to put your head through a wall.

You push through the second and the third day. You give orders to the maids, who walk on eggshells around the house, sharing concerned looks. You take it upon yourself to bring meals to your mother and all but spoon-feed her so she at least will have some energy to get up from bed. She doesn’t — while you want nothing more than to get away. You’ve had a fair share of responsibilities your entire life but now there’s an abundance of them and it puts you in a chokehold, and you are all alone in your discomfort which brings you no respite at all.

On the fourth day you wake up feeling like the walls are closing in and you can’t breathe, the need to leave anchoring in your lungs. You don’t want to waste another second as you put on a coat right on top of your nightgown, frightened that each moment of stalling might lead to you being dragged into the same routine again. But the house is asleep, and the sun has barely risen when you tiptoe out of your room. You only wake up one maid, telling her you’ll go for a walk so your sudden absence doesn’t come off as a deed of cruelty.

You step outside and close the door behind your back, taking a slow, deep inhale. And just when the guilt is about to sneak up on you — you dart off into the morning fog.

The air is fresh and cooling against your skin as you run away from your house and through the trees, not minding the branches or the damp ground. You breathe the crisp air in, and it makes your body feel weightless, and you speed up, leaving no chance for the responsibilities to catch up with you. Patches of the forest, splattered with all shades of green, bushes and weeds that graze your knees — you pay them no attention as your feet carry you further away, up the hill, to the most remote place you can think of. You don’t know how long it takes for you to reach the narrow wooden bridge and cross the remaining field that ends with a cliff, but when you finally do, your feet ache and your lungs burn and you gulp air.

The sky is draped by the light layer of clouds but the blue of it stretches as far as the eyes can reach, and the movement of the sea can be seen in the distance. The morning is still with silence and it welcomes you, the fresh breeze encircling your body. The feeling of it isn’t gentle as the wind instantly bites every part of your skin that is covered with sweat. You should’ve worn thicker layers, you shouldn’t have rushed, maybe you shouldn’t have come at all — but you are too tired of thinking, of restrictions. Of yourself.

You let the cold seep in and pierce you to the marrow as you watch the waves meeting the horizon. You then close your eyes, hands coming up to cross over your chest. It’s an oblivion of some sort — with no demands and no tears, it’s only you and the wind. The empty space around you matches the emptiness in your heart, and the beating of it sounds like a hollow note. You feel nothing, you feel numb, but it’s so tranquilizing, you can’t help but give in, just to stop brooding for a few minutes — or maybe hours, you care not.

In this state of torpor, you almost miss the sound of wings cutting through the air. When you open your eyes, you only catch a shadow hidden by the clouds and a glimpse of gold but it’s still enough to guess. Sunfyre. At any other time, Aegon’s visit would’ve brought you joy yet right now it feels useless against the doldrums of your soul. At least your sisters will be happy to see him, you think, not having the slightest desire to move from your spot. The wind is now howling, the grass is rustling — and then the small measured sound joins the melody of nature. It sounds like someone’s approaching but their step is nearly noiseless. There is only one person who walks like that, and the realization brings you out of your trance.

You turn to Aemond before he can say anything, your gaze meeting his, and he immediately stands still. The distance between you is just like before, and you only now grasp the amount of time that has passed. You haven’t seen him in two weeks — and so much has changed, and nothing is the same — but when you look at Aemond, at every painfully familiar feature of his, your heart twinges. You really, really missed him, and it’s the first thing you feel in fourteen days.

He notes your lack of protest and hesitantly comes toward you, only pausing when he’s at arm’s length. His cheeks are flushed pink from the wind, the collar of his coat raised to the angles of his jaw.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” his tone is filled with sadness. “Even if you despise me.”

“I could never,” you mirror the words he once said but your voice comes out too quiet and blank.

There is only compassion and understanding in his gaze, and you are hungry for both, so you don’t break eye contact. He doesn’t, either, and reaches out a hand — it moves to your shoulder as he says:

“I am so sor—” when his fingers come in contact with you, Aemond suddenly stops talking, and his eye darts to your arm. There is a flicker of confusion on his face that quickly turns into worry.

“You are freezing,” he breathes out, and his worry grows stronger in an instant.

Aemond cautiously guides his hand up and down your arm — you see the movement, clear as day, but you don’t feel it at all.

“I didn’t really notice,” you mumble.

You want to tell him that staying with your family drove you up the wall, that you lost sleep and the nights bring you no rest, that you accept your emptiness and loathe it. But the wind is still howling, your mind is clouded with exhaustion, and you are afraid that Aemond will get angry at you.

Instead, he pleads.

“Let me take you home,” he continues caressing your arm. “Please, let’s go back. You can’t —”

“I don’t want to,” you retort, and all the unsaid words bubble up and pour out. “I could not stay there any longer, it was all too much, I needed a break, I — it just made me feel like...,” your skin finally absorbs the heat of his touch which sends goosebumps down your spine, and you get short of breath.

“Like I wanted to disappear,” you say, voice barely above the whisper.

Your confession hangs in the air, and you catch that same unreadable emotion in his eye. Three heartbeats later Aemond removes his hand, and the absence of it threatens to strip you of your short-lived comfort. But then he unbuttons his coat — and opens his arms to you:

“Disappear here.”

His words break the ice of your numbness, filling your lungs with air — so much of it, you almost feel light-headed. You are cold, and you are lonely, and you missed him. In a heartbeat you fall into his embrace, with the same force one may plummet down from a cliff — only instead of waves, you are welcomed by his warmth, and you instantly sink into it.

Aemond takes you under his coat, gently putting it over your body, and then holds you tight. You instinctively wrap your hands around his waist, nestling against his chest. Your cold palms glide over his shirt, and Aemond involuntarily shivers but doesn’t budge. He starts slowly stroking your back, and you soak up the calmness that radiates off him. His touch is soothing, quieting your mind, and you lose yourself in the serenity that it brings. 

You are both lost in time, standing quietly, as your body gradually warms up and relaxes. You listen to his heartbeat, the rhythm of it even and lulling, and it makes you feel at peace.

When Aemond looks at you clinging to him, his heart swells with so much love, he can barely contain it.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. Everyone expects something from me now and I... I wish he was still here.”

“Your father was the kindest man I have ever met,” his voice is laced with sorrow. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. I should’ve come sooner but I only found out this morning.”

“And you came,” you remark delicately. “It’s all that matters.”

You snuggle up to him even more and relish in the feeling of his body close to yours, finding solace in it. You let yourself forget about everything else in the world, comforted by his kindness as he shields you from all the worries and the troubles of life.

“Whose idea was it to take Sunfyre?”

“Aegon’s,” the prince chuckles. “He was very persuasive, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he waiting for you on the hill?”

“He went to see your family, offer his condolences. And maybe complain a little since he didn’t particularly enjoy the flight.”

You try imagining the two of them squeezed into the saddle, and you know Aemond must’ve teased Aegon all the way to your house. You feel the tickling of laughter in your throat but it doesn’t go higher and then dissolves. Still, it’s a start.

“How much do you regret agreeing to that?”

Aemond pauses — and then his low voice vines through your hair:

“Right now, I don’t.”

You feel his heart skipping a beat, and for some reason, his pulse speeds up. You wonder what the reason may be, and your cheeks heat up when you are struck by the answer you can’t dare to hope for.

Or maybe you can.

“I’m not marrying Ser Lannister,” you blurt out, your own chest vibrating with anxiety. 

Aemond pulls away just a bit, only to have a look at you.

“I heard about that,” he reveals. “He was never a good —”

“You are under no obligation to say anything or do anything,” you cut him off, nervously lowering your gaze, because if he tries to pity you it will break your heart all over again, and you cannot bear it right now. “I just... I knew I would never love him. So I believe it’s only for the best.”

You keep babbling, but he hardly listens, his eye fixed on your face. Aemond isn’t sure you fully allow yourself to be this vulnerable with anyone. But it’s his favorite side of yours — with your bashful sincerity, your overly complicated explanations that he understands with ease, your habit of talking with hands, with your searching gaze and your eyes bright with life. It’s all the little things that he adores.

It’s what makes his feelings finally spill over.

“...But we don’t need to talk about it, you don’t need to say anyth—”

His touch is so gentle, you barely register when Aemond puts a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look at him — and then suddenly his lips cover yours. His mouth is even warmer than his hands, and he gives you a couple of seconds to make sure you won’t pull away. And then he starts kissing you, slowly and steadily, in a way you could only dream of.

Aemond gently cradles your head, his lips are soft and ardent — they meld with yours, and time freezes and sounds fade as you melt into the kiss, into his touch. And at that moment nothing else matters. You are wrapped in his tenderness, the ocean of feelings flooding your body, and he enters your heart like he owns it. He always did.

Aemond is the one to break the kiss, sensing that you are gasping for air. You slowly open your eyes in a daze, as if you’ve been awoken from a dream.

“I will take care of everything,” he affirms, his mouth still only a couple of inches away. “You do not have to worry about a thing.”

One of your hands moved on top of his chest, and you feel that his heart rate is back to normal. The pounding of it pulls you back to reality.

“You mean that?” you whisper. “Aemond, I don’t have that much to offer.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a trail of light kisses up to your temple.

“You have everything a man can wish for,” he reassures you, and his gaze finds yours again. “Everything I have ever wished for.”

The prince takes your face between his hands, and his thumbs follow the contours of your cheeks.

“Even in a room full of art I can only look at you,” Aemond murmurs, his words are flamelike and go straight to your heart, making it flutter.

Only now you notice that the sun emerged from the clouds, and the golden light illuminates everything around you. You bask in it as well as in Aemond’s affection — and he makes you feel seen, safe, cared for. Loved.

“That was very poetic of you,” you tilt your head and lean closer to him.

“I agree with poets on one thing — we have no control over who we love. But I have never regretted loving you,” he can’t stop himself from placing a kiss on the edge of your mouth. “And if I had to choose, it would still be you.”

When you meet his gaze, this time you read it with ease — and you are sure it’s a mere reflection of your own. An overwhelming feeling sweeps over and spreads through you. But the ocean is calm, and you are not cold anymore — and Aemond does love you, after all.

You feel your mouth quirk in a smile, genuine and a very happy one. Aemond presses his forehead to yours and promises:

“From now on, you will always be my first choice,” and then you see him trailing for your lips.

And you believe him.

the taglist: @greenowlfactif, @mischiefmanaged71, @pasta-rask, @imjustboredso, @iiamthehybrid, @m00n5t0n3, @crispmarshmallow, @bellaisasleep, @aemondssuit, @ipadkidsworld, @itisjustwhatitis, @maximizedrhythms, @fckwritersblock, @hiatuswhore, @fantasyreader130, @bibli0thecary, @teapartydreams, @kyuupidwrites, @thelittleswanao3 (I couldn't tag some of you for whatever reason, so I'll just message you guys)

yep, it’s me again!

the title is someone’s quote (I have no idea where it’s from, pls help a girl out)

“Disappear here” are Jonathan Carroll’s words that have been engraved in my memory for years and they just popped into my head while I was writing in a haste and only then I realized wait, technically it’s a quote, you can’t do that?! but guess what, I did! I also tried to rephrase these two words but it looked weird so I’m letting you know that I suck as a writer

the bit when she babbles and he looks smitten with her — I couldn’t help but think of that scene from “North and South” (it screams Aemond to me!)

I imagined the cliff to look like this 🍃

I originally planned to turn the romance down just a notch ’cause I already have 4 sappy fics and I wanted this one to be more “realistic” but… oh well, me and romance go hand in hand, apparently.

you will see this version of Aegon more often because I enjoyed it immensely!

what do you guys think? comments and opinions are VERY welcome! 🥺 ✨ my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[fatkish]

Monster Gyomei x Depressed Reader

Part 1 of 2

(I got the idea for this from raysrays Fatal Attraction series. They got the idea from @PammyJammy117)

It was a beautiful spring day. The birds were chirping, butterflies and bees were fluttering about, small animals were starting to come out of their burrows. The flowers were blooming in all kinds of pretty colors, too bad, it’d be the last time you’d see such a pretty season.

You see, you had been deeply depressed lately due to business being slow among other things and had come out into the forest to end things. You left your village that morning and walked out deep into the mountain’s forest. Deep and far from the village. You carried a rope with you, you were going to tie it to a branch and hang yourself.

You knew that people had said that there were stories of a beast that lived in these woods. You knew people feared coming into these woods. They feared meeting or possibly encoring the wrath of such a being. You had heard old tales of the being that lived in these woods all your life.

You had heard stories of the being’s great strength but also tales of his supposed good nature. Long ago, your village prayed to and left offerings at a shrine they built deep in the mountain. They prayed to the supernatural being, the supposed ‘god’ of the mountain. There were stories of his great kindness and how he protected the village. He was supposedly fond of children as there were stories of him taking in orphans and caring for them.

You decided that if this being truly existed, and deemed your life of any worth, then they would stop you, and you would choose to live on if they saved you.

You had found a tall tree and decided to climb up the branches, unaware of the being that had already sensed your approach and was silently listening to you. You climbed up the tree and sat on a thick branch, to which you tied the rope tightly around the branch and then fastened a slip knot.

You picked up the rope and put it around your neck, you took a deep breath, and jumped from the branch. You struggled for a bit as your airways were constricted. As you slowly lost your vision, you must have imagined seeing the large man like being that seemingly appeared in front of you. You closed your eyes as you lost consciousness.

When you awoke, you were nestled in warmth. You heard slight sobs. You figured it was your imagination and that you were in heaven. You snuggled closer to whatever this warmth was. You felt a large hand caress your head and a soft yet deep voice tell you you were going to be okay.

You opened your eyes to see a large man like entity. He had white pupil-less eyes, a large scar going across his forehead, large deer like horns coming from his head, short dark hair and pointy ears. He must’ve been well over 8 feet tall, possibly 9 feet tall.

He was carrying you bridal style in a single large arm. He wore what seemed to be a toga like clothing made of a natural fiber woven cloth. He had a long tail that resembled a bull’s.

After looking up at him he looked down at you. He had tears in his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel compelled to wipe away the tears he shed for some reason. He brought you to a shrine like structure. He brought you over to a nest of animal skins and set you down in them.

“You’re the one who saved me?” You asked.

The large being smiled gently at you and pet your head. “Why yes little one, I did”

“Why” you couldn’t help but ask the man, beast, whatever he was.

“Because I believe all life is precious, and it would sadden me greatly to have left you there” he replied as he held his hands together as if he was praying. You noticed he had some ceramic beads that he constantly rubbed between his palms.

“You think my life is precious?” You asked as you curled up and wrapped your arms around yourself. He smiled gently at you and proceeded to rub your head. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Thank you. Thank you for saving me Mr?”

“Gyomei, and you are most welcome little one”

“My name is Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you Gyomei”

“May I ask why you felt it necessary to end your life little Y/n?” Gyomei asked as he sat down in front of you.

You crawled over and sat next to him and began to tell him about how you’ve been feeling, how your craftsman business had been practically nonexistent and how you’ve started to become hopeless that things would ever change. During the entire time you talked, Gyomei listen intently.

You talked about things that you had never told anyone, in fear you would be seen as ungrateful or a wimp. You feared the other villagers would judge you for how you’ve been feeling, but Gyomei merely sat there and wept for you.

You felt so much better after telling Gyomei how you felt. You thanked him profusely to which he just smiled and pet your head.

You realized how late it must be and told Gyomei that you should probably return to the village. Seeing as it was late and you’d surely arrive at the village by nightfall, Gyomei smiled and got up, walking with you to the edge of the forest. He helped you down the mountain, down an old path that led straight to your village.

Before you left to enter the village, you turned and ran back to Gyomei.

“Can I please come and see you again. I don’t really want to say goodbye yet” you confessed.

Gyomei smiled down at you and rubbed your head with his large hand, ruffling your hair a bit. “Nothing would make me happier Y/n”

You smiled and returned to the village, you looked back towards the forest and saw that Gyomei had seemingly disappeared. That night you got home and slept in your bed, remembering the warmth that you felt when you were in Gyomei’s arms. That night you had the most restful and peaceful nights sleep you’ve had in awhile.

The next day you prepared some tea leaves in a small ceramic container and packed it into a bag along with a teapot and cups. You also made some onigiri and packed that as well before you set out and climbed the mountain trail leading to the shrine.

When you got there you saw Gyomei and greeted him. You took off your bag and brought out the tea container and other things.

Gyomei walked over to you and asked. “What’s all this?”

“My offerings to you.. or well… I just wanted to repay you for your kindness towards me.” You sheepishly replied as you twiddled your hands. You heard a sob and looked up to see Gyomei crying.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you” you panicked and got up to wipe away Gyomei’s tears.

“Nonsense little one, you did not upset me, quite the contrary in fact. I’m actually happy but you need not repay me” the gentle giant replied as you tried to wipe away his tears.

“So, you’re not sad?” You questioned.

“No I’m not sad” Gyomei replied.

“Oh okay, we’ll would you like to have tea and Onigiri with me?”

“I’d be delighted to”

Gyomei sat down next to you as you got a small fire going in the wood stove inside the shrine. You got the water hot and got the Onigiri out before serving it with the tea. You and Gyomei sat in comfortable silence together as you both enjoyed your meal.

As time went on, you continued to bring him food and would constantly hang out with him. You’d started a garden near his shrine since you saw how fertile the dirt was. You would visit and tend to the garden whilst Gyomei did his things.

Eventually early spring turned to late spring and late spring to early summer. You would visit when you could and helped fix up the shrine. You’d bring new clothes for Gyomei that you had made for him, to which he cried in appreciation.

Your craftsman business seemed to have picked up. Being one of the few craftsmen in the small village, people would bring things to you for you to fix such as ceramics or metal objects and you would fix them. Some of the older people would ask for you to fix up some things around their houses such as doors, roofs etc.

You had made some ceramic pots that you brought and gave to Gyomei for him to store food in for the winter. You continued to care for the garden you started near his shrine and Gyomei would help you occasionally.

Life had been good with Gyomei and you started to develop feelings for the man/creature/whatever he was.

As the garden grew, you helped Gyomei prep and made sure that he would have plenty of food during the winter to which he constantly told you was unnecessary. You would just smile at him as he cried at your kindness.

You eventually brought him a handkerchief for him to wipe his eyes with since he cries so often. As the days got hotter, Gyomei showed you a small waterfall where he meditates and you would occasionally join him underneath the waterfall. He would teach you things like how to forage and hunt to which you greatly appreciated.

What you didn’t know, was that your life would change immensely that coming fall.

[eyesofshinigami]

Brave

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Love confessions, fluff, so much schmoop

Prompt: From @sidekick-hero "Love is what makes you brave"

WC: 1812

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 7

Steve, admittedly, has done a lot of really stupid things in the name of love.

He hid so much of himself, what he liked, and who he wanted to be to make his parents love him. He was a perfect child, always seen but never heard, the perfect little trophy for his parents to put on display. He thought that was love for a long time. That it was performative, transactional. If he just did this one thing, surely they would love him, right?

Then, Steve forced himself to fit into a mold. He slid on a mask, played a part that was really easy to hide behind. People like Tommy and Carole seemed to love him when he was mean, when he looked down his nose at people they deemed unworthy of their attention. They would laugh and clap him on the back and keep him close, even if he knew deep down that it made him a little sick. And for some reason he still can’t fathom, it made other people love him too. Well, that superficial, surface kind of love where he was still seen as an object, an achievable goal. Be friends with King Steve and you’ll get something out of.

Transactional.

It wasn’t until Nancy that Steve really began to understand what love really was. He threw his whole self into loving her. In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to go all in on something that he still didn’t really have a grasp on, but for the first time, it felt like he was being loved for love’s sake.

Until it wasn’t. Until Jonathon. Until the house. Until the world quite literally turned upside down.

Even with that falling apart, it opened up a whole new world of love for Steve. A new understanding to just what the word meant, the weight behind it when it really matters.

Love is protecting those that matter most. Love is staring down the mouth of a hell creature and still swinging even though your arms feel like jelly. Love is redirecting punches so that they don’t have to hurt. Love is diving into a murky lake into hell to help fix what someone else broke. Love is late night drives when you can’t sleep and the nightmares are too much. Love is admitting that maybe, just maybe, love looks a little different than what you expected it to.

Love is being brave.

All of these lessons, all of these people in his life that showed him that love can be so many things, if only you’re willing to give as much as take.

Which is why Steve makes a decision. It might be a bad one, but he’s learned that sometimes love means having to jump into the fray and trusting that they’ll catch you. He knows, deep down, that someone will, even if it’s not the person he really wants to.

“I’m going to do it. Tonight,” Steve declares that evening as he’s shelving movies. He’s working the late shift with Robin, but has plans to hang out with Eddie later. The very thought of it makes him flush, with happiness and nervousness in equal measure. “I’m going to tell him how I feel.”

It was a slow sort of descent, realizing that he loved Eddie. It started with their talk in the woods of the Upside Down, to pulling Eddie’s broken body out of that awful place, to helping him heal once they realized he might actually pull through. He was drawn to Eddie, drinking him in whenever they were together. He loved when Eddie was loud, or when Eddie was quiet, settled. The fact that Eddie trusted him with the different facets of himself blew Steve away. And Eddie listened when he talked. He listened when Steve talked about sports, or his newfound interest in carpentry thanks to helping Hopper fix up the cabin. He listened when Steve couldn’t sleep, or when Steve got scared about what the future was going to bring, now that it felt like maybe they could actually move on from the nightmare that is Hawkins, Indiana. Little by little, it made Steve realize that Eddie made him happy and maybe a little stupid. The good kind of stupid, the happy kind.

Robin turns to look at him, smiling softly. It’s her soft sort of smile, the one she only saves for him when he’s actually doing something for himself. “Good on you, bud. You’ve only been pining for him for months now.”

“You’ll have a pint of ice cream at the ready in case this goes south?”

“Sure, but I doubt you’ll have to worry,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Now go find something to do before you pop out of your skin. I can see you sweating from here.”

He lasts about another twenty minutes before she lets out a gusty sigh. “Okay, you’re starting to make me nervous. It’s dead in here, why don’t you just leave and head over there now?”

Steve wants to argue. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but she’s right. If he waits any longer, he might just vibrate right through the floor. Once upon a time, he was good at this, smooth and suave and so fucking fake. It was easy to talk to people he didn’t care about, but this? This thing with Eddie?

It matters a lot.

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. I know when I’m not wanted,” he jokes, clocking out and heading out the door.

“Go get your man, Harrington! I expect non-explicit details in the morning!”

He waves her off and gets into his car. The drive takes about fifteen minutes, heading to the little house that Wayne and Eddie got as compensation for their trailer being confiscated for study. Steve’s just glad that Eddie doesn’t have to live in the reminder of where everything went down.

He parks his car and sits for a long, long moment, fingers tight around the wheel and his breath coming in harsh pants. He can do this. He can do this. He can be brave.

“Steve? What are you doing out here? I thought you had work,” Eddie calls from the porch. He must have been sitting out here longer than he thought if Eddie had come to find him.

Steve takes one more big breath before he heaves himself out of the car. “I did, but Rob sent me home. It was dead and she said I was bothering her.” He smiles, trying to ease the angry butterflies he feels building in his stomach. “You good with me coming now? I guess I should have called.”

Eddie smiles, wide enough his dimples pop and Steve wants to feel them under his thumb. “Of course, Stevie. I’m still working on dinner, but you can keep me company.”

Steve eagerly follows him inside, feeling himself relax as he steps through the door. The place is always a little cluttered, a little messy; Steve loves it because it looks like people actually live here. The fact that he’s welcomed into this space makes him feel a little warm and gooey inside. “Thanks, man. What’s on the menu?” He’s babbling, he knows he’s babbling, but he can’t help it.

Eddie gives him a look but answers, “Just some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.” He heads to the stove and starts stirring a pot, the smell of it hitting Steve full force. “You okay? You seem a little off.”

He wants to brush it off, pretend it’s nothing. It would be so easy and he knows Eddie would let him. They’ve learned each other’s tells, when it’s time to push and when it’s time to leave shit alone. Just one more thing that Steve loves about Eddie.

So, no. He needs to say it. For himself, to let go of this thing that he’d been trying to hide for fear of it being yet another stupid thing he does for love. But his love for Eddie could never be that, even if Eddie says no. Eddie will still be his friend, will still love him, even if that love doesn’t look the way Steve wants. He doesn’t expect anything, doesn’t want more than Eddie can give him.

“Uh, well… actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about?”

Eddie nods and sets the spoon down, during the fire down as he turns to face Steve. “I’m all ears, Stevie.”

Steve nods, taking a deep, shaky breath. He can be brave. “Okay, so. Can you… let me just say it? Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” At Eddie’s nod, he continues, “Um, all right. So. Uh. Eddie… I’m… I like you. I like you a lot. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” Eddie’s mouth drops and Steve has to look away, before his heart beats out of his chest and he gets sick from the way his stomach churns. “It took me a while to realize it, but I am. I just… I love you. I love everything about you. Even the weird, shitty parts that I know you don’t like, but they’re part of you, right? And I don’t… I don’t expect you to feel the same, or want me back. It would be great if you did, but like… it’s not why I told you? I told you because you deserve to know. To know that someone loves you because I can’t imagine not loving you anymore.”

There. It’s out there. Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and tries not to count the seconds as they pass. It feels like they’re beating against his ribcage, in time with his pounding heart.

Suddenly, there’s a hand cupping his cheek, gently turning his head until he’s looking at Eddie. The look on the other man’s face is soft, his eyes sparkling and the curve of his mouth small but so so kissable. “Stevie… baby…” The words are like a gut-punch, making Steve weak in the knees. “How could I not love you back, hmm?” Eddie chuckles, his thumb caressing the skin of Steve’s cheek. “Always the brave one of the two of us, aren’t you? I didn’t want to say anything because this… I didn’t want to lose this. If I was wrong, you know?”

“Me too,” Steve whispers. He’s afraid to break the bubble that’s surrounding them, like if he speaks too loud it will break and he’ll realize this was all just a dream or something. “Eddie…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, he just pulls Steve in until they’re kissing, mouths moving against each other softly as they press closer.

It’s warm. It’s sweet. It feels like coming home.

Something settles in him as they kiss, as they touch and move together in this new way. He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He feels like he could fly.

[raayllum]

Been thinking recently about the idea in fandom that boils down to, usually, "the Character that Changes the most being deemed 'the most complex'" and that character development (i.e. character change) being held up as The Golden Standard of a Good Character and...

I fundamentally disagree, but first, a little bit more explanation about what I mean

Very often shows and movies, when being recommended on tumblr, are sold on the basis of having enjoyable/in-depth characters. Often times this also means conflating enjoyable with likeable, but that's a discussion post for another day. And even more often, it means there are characters who are seen as Deep because of how radically they change over the course of a story.

Lots of times, this falls into two camps:

Characters change radically, but early on in the story, and remain largely the same past that point of change (think anytime in a first season) until the end of the story

People recommending shows based on characters having traditional redemption arcs (enemy or bully to friend / good guy / love interest)

Now, I'm not saying that 1) character change can't be deep or 2) that character growth is bad. Neither of those things are true, even subjectively. What I am saying is that 1) character change / a character changing is not the same as automatically being a good, interesting, or well written character and 2) character growth is not the be-all-end-all of character writing. Yes, there can be problems with characters be overly stagnant, but typically that's only an issue if 1) a work is serialized and concerned with character development and they don't change at all, 2) a character never adjusts (rightly or wrongly) according to their mistakes, or 3) all of the above but they're a main character.

However, assuming that Character A has to be radically different at the beginning of a story in terms of their personality/values/etc. as they are at the end of the story is just... not how it works, necessarily. This is, I think, one of the reasons why antagonists who get redemption arcs tend to be more popular than heroes who had good values the whole time, because there's more opportunity to point and go "look, they've changed! they act on and have basic compassion now!" Which, fair enough, but again: other types of characters are fine too.

Particularly for characters fandom tends to have the hardest time with: paragons.

Paragons are characters who are usually the central hero, pretty morally if not entirely moral upstanding, and because they already start out in a place of "always doing the right thing," they rarely radically change by the end of the story. Instead, paragons are used to progress theme/messaging and inspire other characters around them to change (a good example might be Buddy from the Christmas movie Elf and to a lesser extent - as he's more transformative as a character - Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender, who's there to return childhood to his friends as an ideal and carry on Air Nomad values).

And for TDP, that's Ezran.

He's the youngest in the main cast and by far the most measured. While Callum and Rayla are off fighting, he keeps a level head. He assumes responsiblity largely without guilt, holds other people accountable most often without being cruel, he's kind and deeply compassionate, he shows regular empathy for his enemies even when he has to treat them like enemies, he loves his father but does not idealize him, he is king without craving power, he's trusting and honest and while he has his flaws (overly optimistic, his passivity, sometimes struggles to consider other people's emotions, naivety, etc), they - as of yet - are not overly connected to his sense of morality (which is a distinct difference compared to the rest of the main cast).

Now, TDP is less concerned with the theme of Childhood compared to something like ATLA, but Ezran being a child (again, in a way the rest of the cast is not) is also very important. Ezran, and Callum to a lesser extent, is the embodiment of the concept that children aren't born with hatred in their hearts; it's learned, or earned, through experience, society, and suffering. And as Ezran spells out for us in 4x03, he has suffered and been hurt - and he believes in breaking the cycle and believing in hope for a better future anyway.

Ezran's steadfast reflection of the series' core theme of "true strength - to break the cycle - is found in vulnerability, in forgiveness, in love" in both word and action does make him the closest thing to a paragon in the series. He's the one who finds the egg; he's the one who forgives Rayla and Soren; he's the one who still tries to help Claudia; he's the peacemaker, the literal bridge between peoples and species in spite of witnessing so many of their worst crimes/actions.

In both arcs, there tended to be a trio of characters who rapidly change, and a trio of characters who are more, comparatively, stagnated. Early S1 Rayla, Callum, and Soren are radically different in a ton of ways than they are even at the beginning of S3, but especially by the end. On the other hand, Viren - post 1x03 at least - Claudia and Ezran are far more consistent in arc 1; their circumstances change, but their viewpoints and realities and choices are largely the same from season to season - they just keep doubling down. This doesn't mean they don't change at all, but they don't radically transform - they just become more of what they already are.

I'd say that in arc 2, things have switched up, with Callum, Rayla, and Viren being the three who are radically transformed (thus far) with Soren, Claudia, and Ezran still being in the more stagnated corner. (For more notes on Claudia and Ezran's shared passivity, check out this pre-S4 meta.)

Ezran starts out the series as a good hearted, slightly mischevious little boy who loves his family and believes that people can be good. The point of the series is not to change these parts of him. It's to demonstrate the difficulties - losing both his parents, taking on the kingship, struggling to make the right choices, keeping his friends together, caring about peace and sentiment in a world that increasingly does not - of maintaining those positive traits, again, in a world that is determined to test those ideals and attributes.

Ezran is not here to be transformed by the storm, the same way his friends and some of his companions are. He is here to demonstrate the strength and necessity in weathering the storm so that the world cannot make you cold, or uncaring, or violent, even when those paths and emotions would be much easier to go down.

Good character development isn't about changing your character; it's about changing your audience's understanding and perspective of your character. Sometimes that means the character is also changing simultaneously, but that's far from a requirement for a character to be interesting. Like most things in writing, what it really boils down to is execution.

And I could go on about why I think people gravitate towards characters who start off evil (often part of imperialist empires or older, institutionally backed systems) and learn that the evil was wrong actually (and sometimes not even that) but that's a meta for another day, and this one is long enough.

TLDR; Ezran, like a few other characters in the show - antagonists and protagonists alike - is not meant to be a radically transformative, even though he very much has grown and changed. Instead, he's meant to exemplify the importance of not losing your sense of self in an increasingly cruel or difficult world, and what parts we should arguably try our best to hold onto as well.

[annie-creates]

Stupid test mark

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader (platonic)

Genre: fluff

Words: 800

Note: This request probably took me longer than it shoud have but I hope you'll still like it. Thank you so much for trusting me with it.

The school year was nearing it’s end, which meant the professors put twice as much pressure on you. You could hardly count all the assignments and tests in the last few weeks. You wanted to do good, even better since you studied at the school of evil and it’s students were notoriously known for bad grades and behavior. You wanted to get all the best marks and shove it down the good students’ throats. Your striving was deemed half useless by the grade you got in deadly potions class however. You did your best to study and prepare for the exam, but apparently your best still wasn’t good enough to get at least a C+.

It was all you could think about when you read your books long into the night or absentmindedly rummaged through the food on your plate. Even your skin got paler than usual thanks to the lack of sleep and nutrition. Something the Evers picked on you for. As you went from one class to another, you could hardly pay attention being too concerned with what other grades and classes you could screw up in. You didn’t want your overall mark to drop even more, yet every time you tried to focus on your studies the C- was right in front of your eyes, mocking you and reminding you that you failed and will never be good enough again.

“Y/l/n!” Lady Lesso slammed her cane into your table startling you. “Would you mind paying attention in my class!?”

“I… I’m sorry miss.” You were too intimidated to even look her in the eyes, opting to point your sight into the table instead.

“Eyes on the blackboard.” She warned you, not in the mood to have to reprimand you again.

You did what she said, keeping your eyes on the lecture even through the stinging feeling in them. The last thing you wanted was to disappoint your dean. You already felt like a failure, you didn’t need anyone else to think so about you too. You wanted people to be proud of you, to say “this Never made it in life”. You wanted to be adored and admired, not made fun of and picked on. This all swirled in your mind so loudly you didn’t even notice the ring bell announcing the end of class.

“Y/n?” Lady Lesso called out to you with a noticeably lighter tone. “You seem to be quite unpresent today. Mind enlightening me on why that is?”

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. I didn’t want to get distracted in your class.” You tried to avoid any confrontation.

“Nonsense. You are one of my best students and you always pay attention, what got you so unfocused?” Lesso pressed you a bit.

“Well… I got a really bad grade from my potions exam. I studied really hard, but turns out my best isn’t good enough. I’m a failure.” You admitted avoiding her sight.

“Oh my. Do you think I’m bad at my job?” The dean challenged you with a pointed look.

“Uh, what? No, of course not!” How could she think that based on what you said?

“Then where do you get the audacity to say that the best of my Nevers is a failure?” she folded her hands over her chest.

“Um… I… I don’t…” you were at a complete loss of words.

“Don’t you ever think about saying such bullshit again.” Lesso put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize for like a third time in the last five minutes.

“You are one of the most talented Nevers I’ve seen in a long time. You could be the reason Evil strikes a win once again. I know that’s a lot of pressure for a young mind like yours, but I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t convinced you can handle it.” Lady Lesso declared with a deep look straight into your eyes.

“I… thank you Lady Lesso.” You didn’t really know what to say to all the expectations she had from you, but you hoped to live up to them.

“There’s no need to thank me. You have great things ahead of you, things some stupid test mark can’t take away.” She winked at you, building your confidence up. “Now, I want you to forget about some foolish potions class and focus on the things you have coming up. I have no doubt you’ll be graduating this year on the top of your class with the progress you’ve made.”

“I will. Thank you.” You nod with a sincere smile and leave her class much more enthusiastic.

If Lady Lesso thought you are the one to do great things in life, who were you to say otherwise? She surely must know what she’s talking about.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': 'The Harbinger'

Yup, as we all know, Doug unlocked a HUGE character with Asajj Ventress, who is apparently an embittered ex-Navy wife lurking somewhere in the depths of the Florida Panhandle and not a reborn Jedi goth chick.

CW: You will learn more about this poor ex wife of John then you will ever deem fit. Be warned.

All images taken from here: https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/309

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

Episode 9, “John’s-Ex-Wife: The Revenge”

Daddy Warcrimes does what a daddy in need of a mommy will do, and is going to pick up women by the dockside. Wonder if they take cash or not. 

And here’s Julio to remind him to wrap it before he snaps it, ya know? Good bro, when has Julio done anything wrong, love him. Maybe Julio laid his pipe in Space Louisiana last week, who knows if the mantis had a sister who had bills to pay and Terrebonne Parish don’t have a lot of jobs but has a lot of lonely people and, where were we? 

Why is it all foggy here now? We in Maine now? 

Well, Mutant Jimmers is doing work, as the kids say now, tracking down the junkies hiding out in the caves. I can’t blame Mutant Jimmers or the junkies, they gotta do their smack and doing it in the park ain’t good. I wonder who makes the meth on the island? It ain’t Church Lady, she’s too busy working and having fun in the snow with her beau, Sassy-Park-Ranger*.

Awwww shit it’s not space junkies, it’s worse! It’s JOHN’S-EX-WIFE! Of course she’s hiding her Ford pickup in a cave, the other one got booted outside of Pensacola after she banged the neighborhood granddad and he called the cops after she stole his TV. 

(the last shot John saw before he left for the rig that one time)

God damn, she’s wearing the same outfit you wear to work, Meat Muffin! Do you think she writes papers and yells at people on the phone like you do too?

Well John’s-Ex-Wife hasn’t changed, first thing she starts doing is fighting and bitching at everyone for not paying their bills on time. I hated that damn woman but I’ll say this much, she was organized. But that’s how the Devil is. Not organized to not cheat on John with every sailor in Pensacola and the neighborhood granddad but nobody’s perfect I guess. 

Well, she’s going to test Little Orphan Blondie by making her do yoga on the beach while her brothers watch. Doing dumb shit in public to be different, yup, that’s John’s-Ex-Wife for you. Surprised Daddy Warcrimes hasn’t capped her and her bleached hair yet. 

Oh! Now she sent Little Orphan Blondie on an errand leaving the boys behind in a dark room with her. How much do you wanna bet there’s gonna be a train and Thomas the Tank Engine ain’t involved? God, it was a miracle John never ended up with the clap. His ex wife really was the bike of Escambia County. 

And there’s a fight. Woo! John’s-Ex-Wife’s history as a bartender is coming on through! Girlfriend can handle her own–and here’s the lightsaber! WOAH! I don’t want her to kick my boy’s butts but damn girl, git ‘er done! 

Also why don’t they all just pile on her, why are they waiting, this ain’t ballroom dancing boys! Toaster Strudel and Rex would NEVER.  

Where IS TOASTER STRUDEL AND REX?!?!?!

Well, Little Orphan Blondie’s back and seems to like John’s-Ex-Wife for some reason. God damn it, Little Orphan Blondie, you’re a rube and I ain’t happy about it. At least Church Lady got you sushi and hit on your idiot brother who didn’t deserve her. 

Little Orphan Blondie’s no Jedi, whatever. But nothing brings the family together like deep sea fishing, even more then going off into the snow and punching each other in front of the trailer! 

Off John’s-Ex-Wife and Little Orphan Blondie go while the dads do a lil bit of peepin. Except Daddy Warcrimes who knows a thing or two and keeps a gun tailed her. Yeah, Daddy Warcrimes! 

Oh! What’s this? Ain’t this the shit from Aquaman? Are they gonna get jumped by sea aliens until Aquaman throws flashlights at them?** 

Nope! It’s that thing from Pirates of the Caribbean! Where’s Johnny Depp and his dreadlocks?! They’re firing up the HMS Search Warrant to do a rescue and…woah. Woah. What’s Johns-Ex-Wife doing here? The force? She can do all that shit but she can’t keep her marriage, oh Johns-Ex-Wife.  

Look at Daddy Warcrimes being a gentleman and helping the ladies onto their stolen work truck. Most ladies get upset when a creepy old man with a gun hoists them into a windowless van but not Johns-Ex-Wife. Trust me. 

Johns-Ex-Wife warns them and then flings off, as she is wont to do. Why do I feel the next episode is going to be the DEA raiding Space Florida? I bet she’s a snitch for the government, calling it now!

*=Doug will never get off the Phee/Mayday train. I tried. I failed. I’m sorry, internet. 

**=I THINK Doug means the Trench from the movie. The Trench Scene | Aquaman [4k, IMAX] - YouTube

For my Doug fans! @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @megmca @skellymom @yeehawgeek @amalthiaph and anyone else!

[dropintomanga]

Gachiakuta Has an Answer to Feeling Nothing

How many of us who have been through mental health struggles have often said that we feel nothing? How often have we said that we have nothing? What is there for us when it feels like there's no worth in life?

Kei Urana's Gachiakuta has one answer to avoid falling into a state of despair.

The story is about a young boy named Rudo Suberec, who finds himself thrown into the deep pit of society, appropriately titled the Pit, after being framed for the murder of his foster father, Regto. In the Pit, Rudo encounters a world filled with trash and monsters that inhabit it. He later discovers a group of superpowered humans (called Givers) known as the Cleaners and helps them out all while trying out to figure out the truth and discovering his own potential as a Cleaner.

In one encounter with a rival Giver (known as a Raider) in Volume 3, Rudo struggles to unlock his power while witnessing the Raider mercilessly attack one of his colleagues. The Raider says the person wasn't worth anything of value to anyone. This triggers the following flashback of Regto from Rudo.

A young Rudo once felt that because he was abandoned, he's deemed worthless because he can't follow anyone's instructions. Regto is right in saying if you're feeling nothing, a major reason why you feel that way is because you don't have something you like or anything you really want to do.

For me when I had major depression, while I did have friends and hobbies, I still felt nothing at times. They helped a bunch, but I think about what Regto was saying about seeing and experiencing things in the 3rd image. Having a support system and hobbies are great, but it felt like I needed to face reality as well and see it for what it is. Over time, I started to understand what was really important to me. I needed to see other people's experiences offline and see for myself how they live. Then maybe I'll end finding something I truly like that would keep me attached to this world beyond material interests.

To me, I found worth in learning about people opening up with their struggles and realizing that positivity wasn't the total answer to life's problems. What I really wanted to do was to stop chasing happiness. What I wanted to do was slow down in the face of a fast-paced world that demands so much from us. I felt I hated myself because I couldn't keep up. I wanted to stop being on social media so much because it was preventing me from seeing the full picture of life.

That's why I want people with mental health conditions (especially teenagers) to be able to experience things as much as they can. Meet people or a community who can help guide you in a way where you have control of how you want to feel alive and make a real difference in life. Face your past and realize that you can keep the pain of it to a minimum. You are more than just a victim of awful circumstances. Harness your core values.

And more importantly, find a way to describe and express the feelings you have that are driving you to feel empty. Rudo couldn't put to words what he was feeling, but knew something was off. Regto was able to explain things clearly and this subsequent moment happened below.

The real worth is being able to express your feelings, good and bad, because that's when the possibilities to rise from the pit of despair, a la Gachiakuta, happens. And then your inner world will be full of things you will like that are worth living for.

[maximoff-pan]

just here to peer pressure you even more into writing part 2 of steve and yn’s secret relationship!!!!!!

ummm, absolutely….I couldn’t resist ;)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warning(s): fluffy goodness, slight sexual mentions... mike wheeler

a/n: hi everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone for the responses to the first part of this. I never thought it would become what it has. But I’m so grateful! Your feedback and comments mean the world, thank you, thank you, thank you! And I hope you enjoy this little sequel!!! <3

part one

• ж • ж •

“Fuck sakes man.” Mike snaps, looking down to his wrist signalling the time. “What are we waiting here for?”

It’s that kind of complaining that makes Mike your least favourite. You hate yourself for thinking that, but it’s kind of just how it is. Because you try so hard not to pick favourites; you guess he’s just done a good job of making sure he’s on the bottom of that definitely non-existent list.  

“Steve said they’d only be a minute or two.” Robin replies. Like Mike, she’s a tad antsy, but for a much different reason. She’s ever so curious as to what Steve had deemed was so important that he needed to gather everyone in his living room, on this very uneventful Saturday afternoon mind you, to tell them. 

She’s never been good at waiting. Evidently, neither has Mike, (as you’re becoming more and more aware). 

“A minute or two my ass…” He quips with a huff.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, because not only do you have it on good authority (from his mother no less) that he has nothing better to be doing, he’s not even wearing a watch. The impatient little bastard…he probably just came here to use the pool, you think.

“You know man,” Robin starts, gaze narrowing in on the younger Wheeler, “you’ve got a bit of an attitude problem.”

“Oh do I?” Mike’s tone is equally condescending. “I totally wasn’t aware.”

“Mike.” Nancy hisses from beside him. Jonathan is sitting on her other side, trying (and failing) to hide the bemused smile that’s sneaking onto his face. You can hear a couple hushed giggles make their way around the room, the kids thoroughly enjoying the back and forth between Robin and the Wheeler siblings. 

Mike shoots Nancy an intense glare, deep coffee orbs pouring with disinterest. He just wants to get out to the pool. 

When Steve finally enters the room, he looks utterly terrified. And it’s funny, because you’ve seen this man fight extraterrestrial beings, monsters people can only dream of, and this is the most scared you think you’ve ever seen him.  

Eddie saunters in behind him, grin shit eatingly cocky, as he takes a seat next to Max and Lucas on one of the Harrington’s many couches. You can only assume what they’d been talking about, hoping Eddie’s likely encouragement hadn’t been too much. Eddie has a bad habit of scaring people into not doing things, simply because his enthusiasm can be so off putting. 

In a sea of panic, Steve’s eyes find yours: ‘we doing this?’ they ask. They’re swimming in pools of fear. 

You smile with a gentle nod. ‘Everything’s going to be okay.’

For a second you think you see him relax a little, until your brief moment of reprieve is interrupted as El and Max simultaneously squeal, “C’mon!” They’re just as impatient as the rest of them. 

Robin agrees. “Yeah dude, dying with excitement over here.”

“Okay okay.” You hush everyone. Grasping Steve’s hand comfortingly, you lead him to the centre of the room. Standing in front of them, you take a moment to smile, nudging Steve in reassurance. 

You can feel the anticipation in the atmosphere, and a little something extra coming from Mike’s direction. Restlessness maybe, or agitation? Whatever it is, you can feel it brutally.    

“We’re–” he struggles, a lump catching in his throat. Steve knows that Eddie’s heart really is in the right place, but his gaze is anything but comforting. If the word eager had a face, it’d be Eddie’s, and it’s only making him more nervous. “We’ve got something to tell you.” He finally manages.

Mike groans. “We gathered that Captain Obvious.”

That earns another glare from Nancy, and a piercing stare from you. El almost whacks him with a magazine that’s laying on the coffee table. Powers or no, she’s entirely capable of putting him in his place. Because at this point, even she can see how anxious Steve is.

And quite frankly, no one enjoys seeing him this way, except for maybe Dustin (and Eddie). They’re so used to Steve being this rock, a playful and fun rock, but a rock nonetheless, that it’s strange to see him like this. 

“Woah dude!” Humour and sarcasm seep through Dustin’s voice as he directs his attention to Steve, trying to lighten the mood “You’re not gonna tell us you’re pregnant are you?”

Robin chokes out a laugh. “Could you imagine?” The pairs of eyes that turn to her are unsettling. She shrinks slightly at the attention, almost unsure of herself. “I mean, could you?

Jonathan chuckles at her drastic drop in confidence, joining in with a mocking look of horror on his face. “I don’t think I want to.” 

“Oh I do.” Is exactly the response you expected to come from Eddie. He looks proud of it too. 

“Eddie.” Max recoils. “You’re a freak.”

A smug smile quirks his lips upward. With a hand to his chest, he accepts it as praise saying, “Thank you. That means a lot.” 

You can sense the apprehension growing on Steve’s end. Usually he’d be eating this banter up, joining in and rousing everyone up. But he’s completely silent, having nearly turtled in on himself. 

“Guys.” You interrupt firmly. “As much fun as this is…” You trail, your implication obvious. 

If Steve hadn’t been so adamant about being the one to tell them about the two of you, you easily would have done it by now. But you want to respect his wishes. So you’re going to let him do it, no matter how long it takes. 

“Go ahead Steve.” Nancy encourages him, a soft, sweet, and knowing smile on her lips.  

“Okay, yeah, um. We’re uh–” Steve clears his throat with an apprehensive pause, “we’re together.” He says. 

Now that he’s said it, the reality of it sets in, your nerves spiking. You hadn’t been worried until now.

His arms do this awkward gesture, a half flail, half choppy, chaotic swing. It totally would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so nervous yourself. Had Steve’s living room always been this small?

Your gaze drifts, allowing yourself to look up. There’s a collection of different reactions forming on the faces of the people before you. A couple of them look knowing, (Nancy and Jonathan for sure) as if they’d been predicting this for some time now, and honestly…that’s fair. It’s not like you and Steve hadn’t been pining over each other for a couple of years or something…

Those reactions aren’t surprising. It’s the unreadable expressions on Dustin and Mike’s faces that get you. Irritable and fucking annoying Mike…of course he’d be the one to throw you a curveball.

“Like, together together?” Mike’s question catches you off guard.

You nod, confirming his inquiry. “Yes.” There’s a hesitance to your tone; you’re not sure what they’re thinking. 

Urgently, Dustin jumps in. “Since when?” 

“What?” Steve asks. He’s not confused by the line of questioning; it makes sense that he’d be curious. It’s the urgency with which he’s demanding an answer that has him puzzled.

“Answer the question Harrington.” Lucas implores. The silence is deafening.

“How long?” Dustin repeats with more vigour. Steve feels stuck. He doesn’t answer, afraid he’ll fumble. 

“Jesus Christ.” Mike huffs. He looks just as desperate. You’d think they had money on the line…

Ohhhh, you see now. A smug quirk of your lips tells them you know.

“(Y/n), how long?” Dustin turns his gaze to you. This is quite amusing to watch. 

You contemplate not telling them, because watching them squirm is really really fun, but instead you’re quick to answer, more curious as to who’s going to win. “Six months.” Is your reply.

Mike and Dustin both let out groans of defeat. “Fucking shit.” Mike says.

“You’re telling me I was one month off?” Dustin whines. “C’mon guys that’s gotta count for something!”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Lucas counters. “Will had six months. Therefore, he wins.”

Jonathan turns to his brother with a smile. “You guys had a bet? And you won?”

Will nods with a shrug. “I’m good at noticing things.”

His response is nonchalant, humble, and unassuming, much like him. It makes you proud to know that he cared to notice the little things between you and Steve, enough to pinpoint exactly when your relationship started.  

“Damn.” Eddie’s voice cuts through the discourse of the group, effectively shutting everyone up. “I really thought I was the only one who knew.”

Steve chuckles softly, showing signs of relief for the first time this afternoon. “I did too.” He says to Eddie. “Honestly, when you asked me how long we’d been — you know” he gestures semi-crudely, and despite trying to be subtle, his implication is pretty clear to everyone, “my heart almost jumped out of my chest.”

“Hold on.” You interrupt, skipping past the part where Eddie asked how long you and Steve had been having sex, because of course he did... (that’s an adventure for another day). “Did any of you not know?”

Robin raises her hand sheepishly. “I didn’t.” She says. “But in my defence, I can barely focus on anything for more than thirty seconds.” 

“I also didn’t.” Max adds. “And I have no excuse. I guess I just gave up hoping it would ever happen.”

Ouch… 

“I had no idea.” El’s tone is the same brutally honest one that you’ve come to love. “If I did, I would have said something.” That’s definitely true. 

Your gaze drifts over to the older teen couple, tilting your head slightly for an answer.

“I’m pretty aloof.” Jonathan smiles, “but I had an inkling.”

Nancy snorts. “Yeah, my inkling.”

Your face breaks into a smile. They complement each other perfectly.

Immense chatter emerges amongst the group, from Mike chastising El for not knowing, to Lucas teasing Max for being woefully unaware (which earns him a swift smack). And then there’s the pride on Jonathan’s face that Will won the bet (and Nancy’s smugness that Mike didn’t). It’s cute to watch everyone so animated, debating over when they knew, and how. The common theme being, it was bound to happen eventually. 

“Feeling better about it?” You sweetly ask Steve.

He lets out a laugh. It’s relaxed, the kind that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah.” He replies. “I’m not sure why I was so worried.”

“Because,” you drag the word slowly and teasingly. “You love them. And you care what they think.”

Steve’s cheeks warm at the thought. Despite them being the biggest pains in the ass the majority of the time, he does love them, with everything he has. Sheepishly, with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck he says, “’Suppose so.” He gives you a tired grin, with a mocking sense of warning... “but please don’t tell them that. I can’t have them thinking I care about them too much, or I’ll have no control over them.”

You chuckle. “Like you have any control over them now.”

“Hey!” He swats in offence. “I’ll have you know that Will listens to me all the time.”

“That’s because Will is just about the most well behaved kid this planet has ever seen.” You say. “I wouldn’t exactly call that an accomplishment.”

You both watch as Will excitedly giggles, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas handing him the money they owe him. It’s cute, very wholesome.

On that note, you pause, thinking aloud, “I’m a little surprised Robin didn’t know.”

Steve scoffs. “Really? She’s too preoccupied with Vickie to notice anyone else.”

“Oh, you’re definitely right.” You laugh at the realization. Vickie really had consumed Robin’s every waking thought. But you’re happy for her.

“Say that again.” Steve’s voice is low and smug, damn him for being so charismatic. 

You decide to play into his game. It’s not like he gets to hear it very often. Mimicking his sultry tone, you whisper, “You’re right.” 

He revels in it, a soothing silence settling between you, as the booming of voices continue floating throughout the room. 

You and Steve allow yourselves a moment to bask in it, as you lean back into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, draping his hands to clasp yours. You can feel his breathing, steady and calm, and you’re sure he can feel yours. Despite the chaotic mingling of nine voices it still feels peaceful. 

The uncharacteristically quiet tenth voice however, makes its way over to you, grin wide and extra toothy.

“So...” Eddie’s tone drips like honey as he approaches. He likes seeing you two like this, happy and in love.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, his amber eyes piercing into yours and Steve’s like a man who’s never been more satisfied in his life. In his mind, this was his discovery after all (even if most of the kids, and Nancy had known for a long time)...

But that’s besides the point. This was his, and no one is going to tell him otherwise. 

Deep brown orbs twinkling, he leans in to say, “Guess we know how long you two have been fucking.”

If it had have come from anyone else, you might have been more shocked. But it’s Eddie, so you’re not. You and Steve hum together in contentment, dopey smiles resting on your faces.

Guess we do...

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

tags: @shireentapestry @shortstoriesbyher @the-empress-of-sass @freezaz123 @damon-loves-pie @justmesadgirl @thepineapplesimp @murdockluvrr @siriusfahey @selfdeprecatingnerd @leilatremblay15 @mama-miya @sigh-mon-says @scoopsr0bin

[katyspersonal]

Top 5 Elden Ring's demigods

Argh... Could you've given me any HARDER top to make? :') No matter who I put below 5th place, I will feel like a huge prick @_@ Because they all deserve some praise, and some love. It is just incredibly good writing. Well, fine then, let's try.

Five - Morgott!

I talked about him already. The absolute tear-jerker character, a member of oppressed minority, that is defending the very corrupt system that deems people like HIM worthless.... He made me cry (/srs ) more than once upon just this sentiment. He is very realistic, and very easy to sympathise with and feel bad for. He certainly radiates a giant soft spot, though (and not JUST because he has dad bod that is completely naked under his robes, hahaha). In a weird way, he reminds me of Asg0re, a character from my other fandom - a big "monster" King who did a lot of bad things on his way, and because of his mental wound, but in the end might melt upon a simple hug or be easily convinced. It is just not what a Soulsborne game would've let us experience, but... honestly, he has not only huge muscles, but also a huge HEART. I love this combination a LOT, it pulls the richest spectrum of emotions.

Four - Malenia!

She is such a beautiful and impressive boss.... ...that I never talk about her. x) I can't quite explain how my focus works, sorry </3 She scares me a little - and it is not even her fault, but the thing that casually claimed her body, because superior deities have nothing better to do I guess :/ She is holding up very well for someone who has to live in a constant struggle with the horror plaguing her very being. And for someone having to hold up as a warrior of her dear brother's interests despite her body rotting as she goes. And having to repeat 'I am Malenia, blade of Miquella' like a mantra, since Rot is infamous to destroy the memories, and she must not forget what and who she is fighting for.

"She deserved better" is an understatement, I'd say. Her personality shines through the 'influence' that has been ruining her quite well, I'd say. She is a strong warrior, very determined, but very full of honor and love at the same time. I say this in every other post about strong Soulsborne characters, yeah. True bravery is not lack of fear but going despite fear, true power is not being callous unbreakable wall but to still hold your weapon firm through struggle and pain, true personality is what you ARE and not what you are 'not', etc etc. It is always about the feelings.

Three - Godwyn!

I could not explain why he made it to this place very well, honestly. First, he stroke my weird spider-sense intuition. I was going into Elden Ring mostly in blind, and still keep whatever I can to be revealed as I go! Thus, I did not know anything about Godwyn besides the fact that he was the golden child (metaphorically and literally) that went down as sacrifice during Night of the Black Knives as one having his soul killed. And that he used to be a lovely person. But one day, as I was playing Elden Ring and progressing casually, from nowhere, for no reason, I started to think of this character. Again, for no reason, I was thinking of the 'Deep Sea' and imagining him becoming a mermaid (?), and healing/truly dying/letting new soul grow/whatever by returning to the sea. I even started crying, and I swear, those emotions felt like they were not even mine.

It felt very random, but you can't even imagine my surprise when that same day, I just coincidentally travelled to THAT location, and found him. And, coincidentally, he was posed like this with a mermaid tail. I take weird 'intuition moments' (dreams or waking) very personally as I have many of them (and funny enough, they always have to do with the 'sea' theme). No matter how I feel about this character in the future, but the weird "foretelling", "intuition" bond fixed my attention, so yeah.

He seems like a very loveable person, though... From narration standpoint, it does make the most sense that he of all people had to suffer this way. It just would not have had the same effect if someone less likeable/innocent had to go down. It is... sad, how much of this character is his tragedy alone. But, he befriended a dragon and bridged the gap between conflicting forces, and from what I gathered losing him specifically was what broke Marika, and Mohg named his new dynasty after himself AND Godwyn. Clearly, the guy was the best thing to ever have been associated with the Golden Order, and manifesting everything good about it within his personality alone. Whenever I bash the Golden Order as inherently corrupt thing, I just always think back on Godwyn as a confirmed exception from the judgement. And, of course, he would have enough "kindness" to spread death as new form of existence... despite the fact that his 'true' self would've probably dreaded to manifest living in death of all things.

Two - Rykard

I talked about this guy since the day ONE I've picked even remote interest in Elden Ring, isn't it so? @_@ Well, I still stand by what I was talking about. Tanith is absolutely justified for being obsessed with this guy. He is like uh... Aldr1ch but executed much better, or rather, in more sympathetic light? I for one honor the narrative of a character who has the GUTS, the S P I N E to sacrifice a lot, their morals included, to just get OUT of the corrupt (!) way their world works. And I have a feeling that so does Miyazaki. x) I think it is a twisted sort of bravery that we are lucky to never experience and only perceive through fiction. But, unlike Aldr1ch, who revels in his corruption and the horrible things he has to do, Rykard, 1) has a loving family and 2) hinted to have or have had sympathetic traits and simply lost his way from.... heheh.... biting more than he could chew... xd heheh... :drum emoji because I am a comedy genius:

But, in either case, ya'll are lucky that the guy is happily married. Ya'll would not survive the intensity of my thirst otherwise. It is just my rule to not touch married characters. I still admire the guy though. Not to mention the fucking UNREAL AWESOME FUCKING DESIGN, one of the best I've seen ANYWHERE, and him having my favorite theme in entire Elden Ring. Like, it was legitimately hard to live down the crisis of him being "taken", because this guy is really loveable, both as a man and as a monster.

One - Ranni!

Honestly, I always liked the mysterious aura, the clairvoyance and the uhhh... I guess, machiavellianism of this character? "Ends justify the means" character who does some unforgivable things but believes there is no other choice, and the grander purpose is more important. But, she has so many layers. She stepped away from her mother's teachings yet still created a badass illusions to protect her and clearly loves her forever, she has trust issues but in the end needs true friends and true kindness (something even an idiot like Seluvis can see!).

You could see it hurt her to do all that, but whatever freedom could be was worth it. She is just a very complicated character, that goes above and beyond. Letting her own body be killed is badass but understandable, since her body was inextricably tied to the Golden Order, as an Empyrean. Letting her somewhat-brother who was a genuinely good and radiant and loveable person be killed? That's a bit... more drastic... And so on. Indeed, she IS like Rykard in how far she had to go, and how much she had to sacrifice, but nonetheless I uh... would not say she lost clarity of her mind like him? It is interesting how by Dante's Divine Comedy though, Herecy is associated with fire but only on 6th level, yet it is treachery that is considered to be THE sin of sins, and it is the lowest level, and associated with ice, like her element. I am thinking about this very often @_@"

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

Honorable mention - Radahn!

Sorry, but I love the guy, despite lack of deep discussion (and becoming a mascot of the most toxic fans). This is ADORABLE that he learned Gravity Magic just so he could still ride Leonard. He appears to be such a goofy dumbass, wholesome person in the "wrong" way, opposing a character that is actually likeable and loyal to the things and people that arguably never deserved it?

But you know I am a huge fan of Rom Bloodb0rne, right? He gives off the exact same 'person that seizes and conceals the horrors of the cosmos from humanity, although their personality and intellect are gone' vibe. It is just... that same vibe of a "silly" character, the comic relief, that turns out to either face a tragic fate or reveals a much deeper personality. He is simple and complicated at the same time! And, well, him having been such a legendary and impressive warrior that so many people gathered just to give him honorable death. This is somewhat impressive. He was actually a very close tie with Malenia.

[ghostlyerlkonig]

I am NOT going to rb the post again I don't want to but I've gotten a handful of responses that are this;

or something else along the lines of good people, good art, just people, just art—otherwise known as focusing on art that is safe in someway made by artists you view as also safe is good is special deserves to be protected because it is good and just art.

Everything I'm about to say will not cover everything. Censorship is a massive fucking topic.

But I need you to look me in the eyes, please, and hear what I'm saying next very clearly;

This is a sweet and kind sentiment and I understand how one comes to the conclusion via the situation I described and the feelings I had after the fact, but this is a very... green way of looking at art.

there are plenty of artists whom I hate but I would not see their art taken down. There are plenty of books in my local library that i think are horrific books but I think a library is a neutral space and books need to be accessible. Even removal of what *you*, and I'm sure you are a very good person, deem deplorable, can tumble, tumble, tumble, into the censorship you are decrying.

There is a reason I added on to the post later that encouraging research and curiosity is more important than offering just one "safe" view of the world. Often they are not safe. Not for the people who need it to be most. If we simply bury things, sooner or later the flood will come again and reveal them.

It hurt me to see one of my aunts reading Irreversible Damage. But I decided to have a fucking conversation with her about it instead of crying over it or berating her. And she threw out the book after our conversation. I've read the book. I've read hitlers book for a class. I've read declarations that held all sorts of bigotry up. I've read the Bible 13 times. And despite my coming up mormon, all this did was make me more able to speak to others. A lot more of them are willing to listen than people regard. It may not be the instant change you want but seldom does that happen.

And there are MANY people who cut the line between good art and bad art by nazi approved and nazi burned. even people who would shit themselves if you called them a nazi over it.

Unless you are untouched by ANYTHING, your judgements will always be flawed by your lived experiences. Ideal worlds are ideal worlds. Your ideals are probably great. Someone else's won't be by your standards. My ideals will not meld with yours. It is learning to grow and coexist that causes that to become less of an issue. You don't need to like all the things I like. I don't need to like all the things you like. That's fine. You can even say you don't like it. But that doesn't make it something to destroy. Frankly it isn't even about likes and dislikes. It's just things that exist.

Even things that are deplorable should be archived. Avaliable. That is part of education. Betterment of society. Achieving something with less violence toward those who are disliked.

But even that is a discussion about much more than art. Frankly I think a lot of you think art morphs the mind to the views of the artists upon one viewing. Humans aren't that stupid or weak. Seeing Gone with the Wind didn't make me change my views after deconstructing from racism the religion. Religion is not just something that makes people think a way, it's total control of thought that effects how one thinks in a deep way. Some ship whump dubcon noncon art or fic is not going to make someone a fucking predator. Things in fiction that tend to be cited as "SEE SEE FICTION CAUSED THIS TO BE POPULAR" were things put in fiction that were already popular beliefs in reality. Bugs bunny didn't start the idea that rabbits like carrots anymore than Beatrix Potter did or the fact that rabbits really do love carrots because of how sugary they are. Sharks are already scary because the sea itself is scary.

Adults lie all the time to up their beliefs. It is usually malicious. Learning to question things is a skill developed by nurtured and supported curiosity. You didn't learn argumentative essays to torture you, debate and research are skills and OLD skills at that. Can you stomach reading a rebuttal? Even if you think it's bullshit, can you see how they got to it? You should be able too, if you want to talk about it well.

What calling fictions the root of all evil does do is allow for people to take the easy way out and blame their actions on a scapegoat that is already hated or established in someway. Like the twinkie. The simple twinkie cause the death of Harvey Milk if you believe the courts ruling a sugar rush. Porn made Bundy kill people. Satan spoke through a dog. Two girls with untreated schizophrenia experiencing psychosis stabbed another. If it wasn't slenderman it would have been god or Satan or literally anyone else deemed of power in their heads.

My initial post was about how calling for censorship of things that disgust you will only lead to the censorship of things that are held up as disgusting by the censors. My painting of a lake was deemed sexual via my artist statement saying the word "queer".

You're liberal but you think porn is disgusting and want to censor it, great what is considered porn? Oh right the trans person standing over there is considered pornographic. Oh and if you do that sex workers will be hurt more. They'll die more. But you probably also think that they deserve it for being whores, huh. Sorry that language is probably too harsh for you, good liberal, you think they deserve it for acting like that and not getting a job or a husband or whatever other shitass excuse you're about to have. Right?

You think sex scenes offer nothing to the story, what is considered sexual? Right right the two gay people holding hands and kissing. For the older demographic, mix race couples.

You think violence in shows is disgusting, but what does that result in? Right safe media that gives you no challenge and offers you little in the way of art.

Because being challenged is violence.

[bwobgames]

Previous First

Back to the present

"Uh, you okay?"

Oliver is hunched over, shivering and breathing heavily

"Uh, hey, um, its okay, I'm sorry, didn't mean to, uh"

"There, there"

She awkwardly pats his back

Is clumsy, but rhythmic. It grounds him

"You need to do uhh breathing. With numbers, I believe, yes do that"

He does that

They wait for a while until he recuperates his composure

"Uh, do I need to get the other guy here, or are you good now?"

"I'm good to speak now, it's okay"

"Do you need water or..."

"No need to worry, I'm- I can manage on my own"

"Although I wouldn't mind getting Ángel in here...

No, if I do so I won't get any information.

I'm a professional, I can do this"

"How... how do you know about that?"

"... Once dad got a hold of those investigations, he became obsessed"

"He talked day and night about those houses, about their potential, about their location"

"While there have always been Haunted Houses all around the world, they're actually really difficult to find"

"He has been looking for years and years,

until one day, finally, he found one"

"A house made into an art display, it's said the people who go in, don't come out"

A shiver runs down his spine

"The owner was really proud of their art. They wished that the people who came to see them would never leave. Or so the interviews say"

"...I see. That's- That must have been the purpose"

"Uh, would it be okay for you to elaborate?"

He takes a deep breath

"...The rooms kept changing. I- I couldn't get out. There wasn't an exit. Just more and more rooms"

"Was - did the creator get out? Or did they unknowingly doomed themselves as well?"

"That makes sense"

"A lot if haunted houses get lost to time, they get demolished, sold to companies, destroyed.

This house was perfect for the taking, Dad planned on buying it.

I heard him ramble about changing the purpose, he thought there might be someway to override the previous command and make a new one.

I don't really believe in that theory to be honest, but he wanted to try it, he wanted a haunted house of his own"

"And then you came along"

"You left a petition to demolish it because you got trapped in it and deemed it a danger to people"

"I saw it on the local news, Detective gets trapped in abandoned house, Human remains were found by officers upon investigation, it has now been demolished and replaced by a Starbucks"

"Dad was absolutely furious. You demolished the Haunted house he took years on finding.

He investigated you. It turns out you had a very convenient webpage with a lot of information on how to contact you"

"And now you're here"

"... Ah Fuck

He wants me dead, doesn't he?"

"Wait, does that mean...?"

"Your father, the factory, do you think the reason he made all those workers get hurt was because..."

"... He wanted to make a Haunted house out of it, using the will and emotions of the workers"

"What would the purpose even be? To keep working despite anything?"

"I believe so, too. I tried to stop him by exposing it with the speedrunning thing, but I never found out if it actually worked"

"What? Why?"

"Because some asshole that I shall not name bought the company, so now we don't have any authorization to go in. The guy hasn't even stepped inside the building! He just sent an email with 'keep up the good work sunglasses emoji thumbs up emoji' and left everyone to fend for themselves!"

"What an infuriating man"

"I feel bad for the poor soul who managed to anger her"

She sighs

"But, that aside, here's the terrible part"

"You've heard this is a museum, right? It wasn't supposed to be made here.

He chose this location"

"... Oh.

Oh no."

"So, we have 2 alternatives"

"Either he is planning to make this a Haunted house, using us"

"Or, the worst, most likely scenario"

"This house is already Haunted

and we got eaten"

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Holidays at the Mason Home: Chapter 3 - Humble Abode

Fandom: Call of Duty

Word Count: 1894

Relationships: Frank Woods x Bell OC, Alex Mason x OC

Characters: Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Bell OC,

Summary: Bell meets Alex's wife.

A/N: ok so I did some research just to make sure my assumption about Christmas basically not being a thing in Soviet Russia, due to the Soviet Union. I was right. The Soviet Union basically said 'no Christmas is bad. no religion'. I'd recommend going and looking it up if this interests you, 'cause I don't wanna hound y'all with a history lesson-

It was half past midnight when the three of them managed to park the pickup and escape into the heat of the home, which had steps leading up to the front door. On it was a wreath of holly, pinecones and red berries brought together with a red ribbon and golden thread. Sometimes, Bell forgot that it was the time of year where people celebrated Christmas, as she had never really done such a thing. Maybe as a child, but from her teen years and onward, the whole thing was deemed nothing more than a distraction the west built up and up on; the usual schtick that her then comrades would discuss in order to villainise just about every aspect of a society that didn’t hold their ambitious ideologies.  

Mason unlocked the door, allowed his friends to step inside first, then turned his eyes to the outside. He scanned, checked everywhere he might expect to find something amiss and when he was satisfied he turned in. He barely had time to take a breath before the stairs light was on and he was being interrogated. 

“What time do you call this? I thought something had happened. Has something happened?” 

Sarah, for all the good that she was, was a worrier. Her fraught lashings always came from a place of deep caring and it was this knowledge that Mason used to cool down the heat of annoyance whenever she got irate. He found her standing a few steps up on the stairs, wrapped warmly in a dressing gown and slippers on her feet. He doubted that their arrival had woken her from sleep, but rather that she had remained awake. 

“Everything’s fine, go to bed.” He offered, “I’ll show these two where they’re staying.” 

“Did you tell them about the room?” She asked, finding another reason to remain. 

Woods and Bell stood silently, having removed their wet boots and removed their winter wear, hanging them on the hooks nestled at the front door. It was clear now that they were edging into tiredness, but neither of them would say it. 

“I didn’t,” Mason admitted.

“Right…” Sarah huffed, rubbing her puffy eyes, “well, why don’t I show them, and you sort out Maximus because the dog won’t come inside and I swear we’ll never find him under all that snow in the mornin’. He never listens to me.” 

Putting his hands up, Mason slowly backed into the hallway that headed to the kitchen, offering his wife a soft smile, “alright, just go to bed after, I’ll sort it.” 

She nodded, wiping her eyes again. Bell could see that she was utterly drained, her skin a little pale and eyes darkened with circles. She wasn’t quite ill looking, but she did look like she was carrying the weight of the world on her frail shoulders. Then, she gestured to the two of them, a sweeping motion with her hand, and invited them to follow her upstairs. 

“Come on, we’ll get y’all settled in,” she offered a warm smile and though it fought to reach her eyes, it couldn’t quite succeed in its endeavour. Woods let Bell go first, taking the rear as he nodded goodnight to Mason. They had shared a look, which Mason had waved him off as nothing to worry about regarding Sarah.

Woods had always found it a little bit annoying how worried she could be, but not because it was her but because of the trait in general; he couldn’t stand to be worried over and, at times, Sarah worried herself out of solutions for the things she worried about - it all seemed pointless and Woods hated inaction. But, she and Mason had their way of dealing with her anxieties, ways that Woods felt he could never quite grasp. He remembered once making her worse when he tried to calm her down. 

He’d never do that again. 

“So, we didn’t have time to finish the other room before you came,” Sarah began, her voice just above a whisper, “David wasn’t very well and other things, so it just got left until the last minute, and then the last minute wasn’t long enough. That means you two are going to have to share the other spare bedroom. There’s a cot in there, but also a double, so… decide between yourselves who gets the comfy bed and who doesn’t. Unless you’re… sharin’?” 

Sarah had looked over her shoulder, a slight glint of hope in her eyes when she asked the question and it caught Woods off guard. He knew exactly what she was implying, but refused to think on it further, unless he wanted to give himself a headache. 

Bell threw her brows up in surprise, lips pursed in question, “why would we share?” 

“Oh, no reason, it’s only an option,” Sarah urged, quickly regaining an air of innocence about her. She would admit that it was a shame to find that the two were not together and she’d tell her husband as such when he’d finally decide to roll into bed beside her later. 

Once at the designated room, Sarah opened the door and let them venture in, flicking the dull light on in the room, a singular bulb with a cream cover hanging from the ceiling. Her voice was erring on the side of teasing, as she bid them goodnight, “behave, you two.” 

Then, the door closed, and it was just them. 

“Behave? What does she think we are, teenagers?” Woods puffed, nose scrunched slightly in his irk. Bell merely shook her head, patting his shoulder before dumping her bag on the end of the double bed. The sheets were pristine white, with the occasional flower patterned along a seam, as well as ruffles that cascaded to the floor all around the perimeter. Four pillows nestled at the head of the bed, the headboard was a cream colour, the fabric velveteen and adorned with buttons in a diamond pattern across its body. 

Then, there was the cot, which looked like it had crawled from the depths of the jungle, gasping for freedom. They had definitely tried to make it more comfortable than what it was, with a sleeping bag, blankets, and a plush pillow.

David even left his bear on the pillow, Woods thought. 

“So, which do you want?” Bell asked, watching Woods with tired eyes. Her tone was enervated, heavy, as though sleep was encroaching on her mind quickly. 

“Take the bed,” he ordered, “you wouldn’t survive on the cot.” 

Her features soured with a look of derision, but she didn’t respond to him. Instead, she hovered in place, eyes watching the same spot of scuffed fabric on her duffel bag, lost in thought. Thoughts of events earlier in the night, of things said and things done, and how easy some of them had come to her. Of course, their camaraderie had meant that she would throw herself on a grenade if the time called for it, if it had ever called for it, as that’s what you would do for those you fought alongside with. 

So, turning on the man that would dare threaten the integrity of either Woods or Mason had been the right thing to do. In anyone else’s eyes, they were veterans of a war they were forced to fight and deserved respect. But, to ease into a character such as a wife, a lover, that had been the surprise; she had never thought about anyone in such a way, really only using the prospect of romance to earn something in return, to manipulate. None of her connections in the past had been of a genuine sort, well, all except one. However, she had buried those memories so deeply that she feared they had fossilised. 

Anyway, she was left to wonder why she was uprooted by this display of affection between her and Woods. It was that which she couldn’t make sense of and it left a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Hey, you still with me?” A hand waved in front of her face and when she broke free of her stupor, Woods stood by her, expertly hiding the concern on his face. 

“Why did you go with it? You could have told that guy the truth,” she asked. 

“You’re still on with that?” Woods raised an eyebrow, before moving to pull his shirt over his head. His arms then rested against his stomach, the appendages momentarily trapped by the item of clothing, as he thought about his answer. 

Bell looked away, quickly. 

“Why not?” That was what he settled on. After all, there was no point in mincing words; Woods had felt no need to explain to a fucking idiot the measure of his relationship with Bell. If the Cliff guy wanted to believe that they were married, well that’s on him. Woods didn’t go around correcting people’s assumptions about him, good or bad, because Woods didn’t give a shit.

“It’s like you didn’t even think about it,” she admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. Woods soon discarded the shirt onto the cot, hands on his hips, chest open as he took a deep breath. 

Had his decision upset her that badly? Shit. 

“Does it bother you?” He eventually asked, feeling like he was dancing on knives. 

He hated that. 

“No.” 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

She should have anticipated it would turn onto her. 

“There isn’t one,” she chided, folding her arms over her chest. 

Well, maybe just the fact that it leaves me feeling vulnerable, emotionally, and she was not used to that. 

“Good,” Woods almost seemed to smile at this, but he turned his back to her, rummaging through his belongings before she could venture to gauge his features and their tells. 

A beat. 

“Thanks, for putting that guy in his place,” his voice was muffled as he pulled a vest over his head, hair becoming messy as his head popped back into view, “people like him really fucking piss me off.” 

“Forget about him. He doesn’t know what it’s like for people like us.” She offered, as she too began to undress, “they want to make it out to be about choice. They think it’s about being good, or being bad. I’ll be damned if I ever knew I had one.” 

After all, in war the only choices available are to kill or be killed. To take the bloodied knife that had just killed your friend and plunge into the backs of your enemies, less they use it against you. In her time, all choices were out of reach. It was yessir, no sir, three bags full sir, fucking we have a job to do, Bell. 

Her nails were digging into her palms and it was the pain that brought her back to her senses. 

Woods quietly regarded that point and came to the conclusion that he couldn’t have worded it better - Vietnam had taken its toll on a lot of people, but try as it might, that place had failed to create a corpse of him and drag him to the depths. 

He’d crawled out of that hellhole just to spite those who had put him there. 

“Fucking A,” he muttered, after a moment. 

That was seemingly it for the night’s conversation and the two got into their beds. Sleep eventually took them, though they slept lightly throughout the night.

[iinafarawaygalaxii]

Star Wars the Clone Wars: Bloodline

Impulse : Chapter 3

Timeline: 22bby

Summary: After a daring battle, Vera and Cody spent the night together over good wine and homemade food, something he often doesn't get to experience and after the night filled with laughter and happiness, Vera finally had a taste of belonging. Someone she knew she could turn to. Will this night determine the next steps towards the future or will she deny the opportunity for a safer life? 

Word Count: 2,424k

Warnings: 18+, soft smut, a bad word? maybe 2?

Rating: NSFW

Notes:

*caf = coffee

A soft ringing began to fill Veras ears as she slowly wakes up from deep within her dreams. The sound became clearer as she pulled herself into consciousness, gently tapping the power button on her alarm clock.  "Hmph", she rolls over, checking out the other side of the bed to make sure HE wasn't there, -sigh- "thank the stars". After last nights... activities, she was trying hard not to...well, have him end up in her bed. Which was shocking to say the least because they were both very, VERY drunk and mostly flirty but, she knew the commander wouldn't push limits and honestly that was one of the things that she appreciated most about him. He's a gentleman, very polite, funny, responsible and possibly checked all the boxes but for some reason, she didn't have that initial spark like she did when she first saw Rex. Who knows, maybe after her decision today she might be able to see him again which was something she kinda looked forward to. All she had to do now is ACTUALLY get up and get ready before Cody comes back to take her to the GAR.         

The cold air outside the blanket was of no help to her trying getting out of bed however, she needed to. Thus was deemed her first mission; "I need to get ready before he picks me up". She slowly rolled up and sat at the edge of her bed, gently putting her hands on her thighs- basking in the morning sun. Her bedroom consisted of one large single pane window about the size of a wall and a large king sized bed directly in the center of the room with nothing else but a mirror. Her and her sister lived a simple but elegant life and held those standards growing up. She sat at the edge of her bed taking in the warm sunlight, gathering her thoughts and preparing her mind for the day. Her skin was already a deep olive tone but the morning sunrise made her glow like sweet Corellian caramel. "I feel different..", she admitted, standing up realizing she somehow managed to get into her nightgown after last nights... events. "Strange... I don't remember putting these on..", and there she stood in her navy blue satin nightgown, the straps gently descending down her shoulders disappearing in her wavy strands of hair falling from her loose updo. She walked to the mirror next to her closet and gazed at herself.... Aside from the obvious, her bottom lip had a small cut that nearly looked healed, remembering that Cody had put bacta cream on the wound earlier that night before they cooked dinner. "He was so gentle.." she whispered, lightly touching the rim of the cut grinning as she began reminiscing about her moment with him.

When he sat her down on the edge of the couch gently applying the cream to her wound there was a moment they met each others gaze and just stared. She didn't know how long but she knew that at that present time but it didn't matter. There was a warmth to Cody that she had never felt before and a comfort that wrapped around her constricting her deepest breath but if only she knew.. that the feeling was mutual. 

Despite both their strict rules on relationships, that quickly ended with their intimate moment and the more she thought about it, still standing in the mirror; Her entire life was filled with serving her people. There was always rules that barred her from even basic social standards. So having some care for her in this way, without them knowing about her true identity, made her smile. Since she often kept to herself and did not have any friends, having that moment with him changed her perspective in ways that she herself didn't understand and that was something she was okay with. 

As Vera went to grab her brush, she heard scuffling in the living room. The sound made her freeze. "What the...", she slowly cautioned to the door opening it inch by inch to peak who was there, thinking about where the closest weapon would be in case things went sour. When she managed to get enough leeway to see, she quickly opened the door all the way, "CODY?!", she shouted. The pony tail had already fallen out of her hair as she stood there in her very alluring nightgown observing the commander with two cups of caf in hand. He was dressed in his blacks with his armor stacked neatly by the couch having evidence, like a blanket and a pillow, pointing to his extended stay. "Um, I...-I um... made some caf....was that... okay?", he said as both their cheeks began to flush. He couldn't help but stare, she was beautiful to look at- no.. more than that, she was stunning. Thoughts began to courtesy its way through his brain, making it harder to compose himself. Her beauty was beyond any other woman he had seen. Her long black wavy hair and golden yellow eyes sparkled like a gem and the way the sun hit her skin… He froze in place realizing that each breath he took was chasitized the closer she got. 

"I.. wait.. what? Why are you still here? You're supposed to pick me up in like an hour..", She said walking down the few steps that lead up to her bedroom to meet the commander face to face. She lifted the straps on her grown and folded her arms to cover her breasts. She felt very bare but sooner realized their comfortability with each other. He set the glasses down on the side table, regaining his composure and began to explain himself. "Im not sure if you remember but..", he leaned against the couch trying hard not to make eye contact, "Well.... we drank... a lot and you offered for me to stay. I took you up on the offer because I couldn't manage to make it to the door myself-". She was baffled and even giggled a bit because last night got way out of hand and it was funny to think about. "-eventually I got my armor off and fell asleep on the couch". 

Although she would never offer a sleep over to a person she doesn't quiet know, she surely remembered having that conversation with him. "You're right Im sorry, I forgot. I don't normally let people I just met to sleep over..", she looked down realizing she was still in her nightgown as her cheeks turned a darker red. The gown itself barely contained her curves, her butt poked out just a little from under the fine silk and her breasts were plump enough to spill out from the hemmed v cut.. Honestly, she was lucky her hair was long enough to cover such areas. "I- I should probably get changed-", she stuttered fully embarrassed from the odd interaction they just had and right before she turned back to her room, he grabbed her hand. Everything fell silent as she looked back at him slowly approaching her, gently holding her hand in his, gripping it just a little tighter indicating his need. 

Veras heart raced as butterflies began to tingle in her stomach and maybe even a bit lower. "Thank you for last night, I appreciate your kindness meshl'a". She ignored the fact that she still didn't know what that meant and was a bit more irritated that even after last night she still didn't get her answer but never mind that, she was more curious about the sudden change in affection. The early morning sunrise changed the tone and impulse had never been stronger. Despite not knowing what to say she wanted something else, something more. She stepped up to him, putting her hand on his chest, "No commander... thank you", she said softly, "for everything-". The words that rolled off her lips, filled with lust as she meets his soft look, "I would've been in a lot of trouble if it wasn't for you. I owe you my life commander", and hugged him, letting go slightly- still shying her body away.

The commanders blood began to race as he cautiously puts one of his hands on her waist feeling the silk fabric between his fingers, gazing upon her hourglass body- looking straight into her eyes as they got closer and closer, their lips inches from each other. Once he gained enough courage he threw his responsibility out the window and placed his other hand on her waist gripping the love handles that she was hiding under the gown. He squeezed just a little before proceeding, silently asking if what they were about to do next was okay. She released her arms from her chest, as she slowly found herself falling into the rabbit hole of curiosity and slowly began to slide her hand up his abdomen feeling every built muscle and scar up to his chest. The wonder of what each scar represented and the story behind it was intriguing but never mind that, she was genuinely curious about his body as she gripped a small piece of fabric and began to tug. She couldn't help but wonder if this was the right choice but the heat growing in between her thighs took control of her mind. She desired him... 

"Vera..", he whispered under his breath, both his hands gripping her waist tighter indicating his need for her. He didn't want to push past his limits thus letting her decide the next move. She brushed her hair to one side of her shoulder, revealing her chest to him. He looked down seeing the plump mounds rising each breath she took, begging to be touched as he felt himself twitch with anticipation. She took a step forward and pressed herself up against him; body on body, feeling his growing bulge against her center as she felt herself dripping, wanting all of him inside her. She got on the tip of her toes and kissed him, deeper and deeper as she slowly began to wrap her arms around his neck. He finally let his guard down as he began sliding his hands behind her, tightly gripping the mounds behind her that swelled for him... showing what she was getting into. 

She began to ask herself what she was doing. Mainly because she's never gone past this point with anyone before despite the many suitors who begged for her attention but the second he gripped her from behind nothing else mattered. She was driven by an entirely new entity, picturing Rex as the perpetrator. 

She felt the peak of her breast begin to harden the more he grabbed her as she pressed up against his chest showing him how he made her feel... Cody well, his restraint began to weaken. The blood coursed through his body making his need grow harder and while what was happening is great, he wanted more. He lifted her onto him as she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding on him in mid air. There was no bliss sweeter than this. Their kisses grew deeper and deeper as Cody slowly began walking them to the couch.  He laid her down and although they were still lost in the kissing, he began to spread her thighs and continued pushing them up by he shoulders to make leeway to her center. He slowly pushing into her, mimicking what could be. 

Despite having clothes on, Vera could feel herself pooling. If this feels good, sex will too and she's been waiting for the right person to share that with but she couldn't help but wonder if Cody is the right person. However, she knew if it wasn't meant to be the Gods would let her know and since nothing seemed unordinary she believed that maybe this was her moment. She finally let herself go. 

"Commander I...-", she softly moaned while he began kissing her neck, bringing his hand up to knead at her breasts, testing the sensitive buds that he so desperately wanted in his mouth. 

"What is it Meshl'a?", he slides his free hand down pulling her nightgown up touching the bare skin of her abdomen. 

"I... I want-", she moaned again as his fingers slid in between her panties playing at her slick. She gasped as her eyes rolled to the back of her head grinding against his fingers. 

"Speak up meshl'a... Tell me what you want". He commanded in husky voice that drove her off the edge. She wanted this man so bad even though she knew she shouldn't. She was so captivated by his movements that it almost became unbearable. He played and teased her as a faint beeping started to fill their ears. She began to mutter, unable to control her thoughts. 

"I.. I want... you", the beeping continued getting louder pulling them out of something they could never come back from. He stopped and shot his head up grasping the concept that time was not their ally and most importantly... it was General Kenobi pinging his comm, "dammit...", he got up and ran to his armor picking up the call;

"General-", 

"Ah, Cody I was beginning to think you weren't going to answer. I hope you're on your way to pick up the Doctor?", His heart was still racing as he took a second to gather his bearings before exhaling with an answer. 

He turns to look at Vera peeking over the top of the couch, "Yes General, I am on my way there right now.",

"Good, we will wait for your arrival",

"Yes Sir...",

He looked at her dumbstruck that they just spent the past hour violating all sorts of codes, even personal ones. He needed to regain himself because being a commander means responsibility and all of that went out the door the moment he spent the night there. He couldn't help but admit to himself that it was worth it. She was worth it. 

"Vera-", he said gently as he watched her get up to fix her nightgown. The glimpse of her body from behind made him want to come up with the best excuse of why they were late and there was a moment he almost did. 

"I know commander-", She started to walk towards the door to her bedroom and before she walked in, she looked back with a small grin, "10 minutes... sir",  and proceeded to get changed. 'damn..', he thought 'what a fine woman', as he slowly gripped the bulge that grew even harder.

After a few moments, Cody calmed down and began to put on his armor. The cod piece was the hardest for him. Although it was still throbbing for her, it didn't seem like it was going away which was frustrating to say the least but he needed to because they were due at the GAR 5 minutes ago. He forced himself in, experiencing all sorts of discomfort as he continued putting himself back together piece by piece. 

After he readied himself, he sat on a chair in Vera's kitchen fully composed, she came out of her room in a burnt yellow tunic, black pants and brown boots. Despite her relatively plain outfit, she was still electrifying, "You ready to go doc?" he smiled heading to open the front door for her. 

"I am commander... Are you?", she winked blushing just enough for Cody to catch on

"yes-", he said hustling her out of the door. They headed towards his speeder, quickly hopping on and readjusting positions for comfort, "Hold on tight doc, were kinda late...", Cody said throwing his helmet on as he gripping the handles on the speeders 

"yeah I wonder why.." she smirked as she slid her hands around his waist. He shot a sly grin as he put on his helmet and began to speed off into the distance towards the GAR.

-

Vera stood in front of the door where she first met the Jedi thinking about Codys sound advice before he dropped her off; "Don't worry about what the future will bring it will always be undetermined. What you do in the moment impacts the time ahead. Stay in the present." She knew very well what he meant, her biggest flaw was overthinking and it made her smile that even in the little amount of time they spent together, he was still able to notice such things. She let out a small giggle realizing the words he said, sending a shift of confidence in her. She slowly reached for the green button next to the door; closing her eyes and began to realize that this was the first critical decision she had ever made that directly impacts her life and even her sister's. However... something about it~ felt right.

Previous - Next

[luffythinker]

THAT ONE ANON BACK AT IT AGAIN! it's almost monday so ima need something to distract me when im in a group session with some guys for work i always use reading your replies to me as so, so have some ships!

MinaTsuyu

It started with Mina whining about how everyone is falling in love and she doesn't know what falling in love is, shes never felt it before TSU keeps asking people out but keeps getting turned down for some reason she isn't sure what it is or that everyone always has someone they like and she isn't it, she starts spending more time with her gal pals Toru Jirou and Mina Mina moreso than others cause everybody is always out with their boo or hanging out with their squads

Mina cant hangout with her squad all the time too much of Bakugo Kaminari Sero and Kirishima in one day is a headache and everyone needs a vacation from that LOVE THEM TO DEATH but ya know sometimes ppl be annoying AF

Tsu aggressively starts having feelings for Mina like she has to abstain herself to have a normal day

Shes watching for any opportunity to be close to her friend

Like she's looking at her differently in a new light she notices how pretty she is, that never used to happen before, if they go to the beach she's fanning herself not from the heat but from how Mina's bikini fits her

(I like to imagine Mina is built Mina is a little on the stubby side but shes got a figure and Tsu is super skinny but semi round hips because frog, so Tsu is tall and skinny while Mina is sort of short and fun shape )

she wants to do more than hug for long periods of time, she wants to hold a women it's Jenny darling your my best friend, im using your shirt as a pillowcase, i borrow your lipstick so often

Thats how deep Tsu really is

So oneday they are chilling in Mina's room and Tsu kisses her just for the hell of it she can't take this longing one anymore it's so agrrsive at first but it slowly melts into something sweet after that Tsu's sitting on top of Mina both of them are just sitting there looking crazy not knowing where to go from there and keep it between themselves like "THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN, THAT WAS JUST A ONE TIME THING"

Nothing at school is normal anymore it happens more often, they kiss at their lockers when nobody is around, they eat lunch on the roof and kiss there it's just a lot of kissing and not asking any questions

Not very sure how they could actually get together but tell me what you think

Next one IidaBakugo i think we talked about this one before?

BUT THINK ABOUT BAKUGO FINDING IIDAS RED EYES INTERESTING? like Bakugo caressing his face removing his glasses

ALSO Iida not changing any aspect of his person now that he's regularly associating with Bakugo, Bakugo isn't changing either they just kinda stay how they are both of them are very good at being professional around eachother and others HOWEVER

Bakugo wants to see Iida break he wants to see Iida slip up and do something "inappropriate" in front of others

things Iida deems inappropriate: PDA,Bakugo's language Especially how he talks to Iida when they are alone, the mouth on that one is something that gets him going badly it's his guilty pleasure to indulge Bakugo's behavior

Bakugo loves when the power dynamic is Iida in charge cause that's different, he loves when he acts out of his nerdy character

One day Bakugo keeps getting on his nerves all day long sitting on the desk little things like that, Iida just goes up to him and grabs his face speaking directly into his mouth ALMOST A KISS BUT NOT REALLY and tells him "Get off the desk" in his lowest voice it leaves several students in awe and Bakugo a blushing mess

Anything you have to add about these things TELL ME I WANNA HEAR THEM i honestly am trying to get more into Iida/Bakugo

Tell me how you think Iida/Bakugo could be? do you think Bakugo craves bad boy iida or do you think Bakugo would want him soft boy?

aaaa i'm so sorry i couldnt be here last monday but im here now, let's deep dive together!!

MinaTsuyu

I LOVE SAPPHIC COUPLES I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS

First, I really love that you gave us some background for Tsu, she's always looking for love and it's never the right time or the right person, she just wants to be loved and cared for but it seems everybody else can find their perfect person except for her For Mina, I don't think she has love in her mind like that, she has fun with people but she's not necessarily looking for serious stuff at the moment (or so she thinks).

But when their friendship starts progressing, I think both of them begin to realize they are attracted to each other, they believe the other is the prettiest girl in the world, and both of them love physical touch, so there are lots of hugs and hand holding but none of them ever says anything afraid to ruin it and misunderstand things.

idk why but I feel like mina would kiss first?? just like a peck and immediately pull back bc she's too afraid she just ruined everything but tsu gets her and kisses her properly!!

I think maybe they would unconsciously hide just bc they don't know how to define what they are yet, but everyone kind of knows there's something going on with them, and tsuyu is a Lover, so she eventually says she wants all the dating perks, she wants to be a Girlfriend, she wants all the sweet stuff and mina is in love, she finally realizes that she doesn't mind serious as long as it's with the girl she loves :((

IidaBakugo

I vaguely remember we talked about them, they are an interesting pair for sure because I think they both don't know how to process and express emotions properly?? like they're both in the same spectrum of "I don't know how to express I'm in love with you so I'm gonna scream"

Love them having dynamics based on challenging each other, bakugo wants to see him break, iida wants to see him be a bit more proper (kinda, bc he likes him the way he is)

POWER DYNAMICS YESSS, iida has so much potential as a more dominant partner especially with bakugo, and I do think bakugo craves that the most (he would never admit it tho). But yes, I can see iida being the only one who can really put bakugo in his place when he's serious about something. Iida would tease him not even consciously like, getting all up in his face and personal space to speak, but not kissing, getting bakugo to move by touching his back or waist but not actually holding him, it drives katsuki insane until he snaps and finally asks (screams) for iida to just do things properly!!!

i guess that's all i have for now with these couples, i love our conversations here so much <3