#and now he's about to lose it all because of one stupid lapse of judgment

[icedteaandoldlace]

Y'all, I just noticed the ominous reprise of Smart Smart Smart Smart Baby playing in the background when Miguel's boss asks him if he took down the firewall, and I'm dying. 😂

[justmeinatree]

12 and Niall please!

12. “your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner doesn’t need to know about this.”

smut prompt list

you’d had a crush on niall for like forever. he was in your friend group, something that made the entire situation so much harder. you didn’t want to lose his as a friend if he didn’t feel the same. no, it was better to keep your feelings locked away. especially now, what with both you and niall having a significant other. something that seemingly always happens. you couldn’t remember the last time you were both single at the same time anyway.

although, your brain momentarily lapses on any thought of your boyfriend as you catch niall walking into your friend’s house. god damn he’s never looked quite this good. 

and it seems that your brain zaps your boyfriend from it’s memory again, when you overhear niall explaining that his girl wasn’t here because she wasn’t his girl anymore. 

with the weight of that news on your mind, you turned to the alcohol table a little more frequently than usual, needing to numb yourself to the fact that the man you’d been pining over was now available.

“drinking a bit much there, darling,” niall hums, his hand landing on your hip as you were making yourself another rum and coke. there was no judgment in his tone, just a pure observation, and maybe a bit of worry.

“trying to forget about-“ you cut yourself off, eyes going wide for a moment, because you cannot speak out loud that you were trying to erase your very current boyfriend from memory. and why does niall’s hand all of a sudden feel so warm ? so heavy ? so fucking there, on your hip, with his stupid mother fuckin thumb stroking a strip of bare skin.

“pet, what’s wrong ?” he asks worriedly, hand sliding around your lower back to fall on your other hip, as he takes a step towards standing directly in front of you, almost pressed into your body. almost. so almost, you could crumble and die right here. so almost, that your breath catches in your throat, heat rising to your cheeks, eyes glued down to the tiniest strand of space between your bellies.

“fuck, i can’t do this,” you whine, pout visible as your hands come into contact with his chest, pushing yourself away from him, needing air.

and well, niall’s left confused. you’d never minded closeness with him, never been worried to tell him something, never really walked away from him. so he follows you. follows you right into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

“m’sorry, what can’t you do ?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks you over.

but with the alcohol coursing through your veins, you weren’t thinking right, and the next thing your brain registers is the feeling of niall’s lips on yours.

niall was shocked. mouth unmoving, eyes open wide. 

until a small whimper leaves your throat, and his body is kicked into action, hands gripped tightly into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, tongue slipping into your mouth as soon as you allow.

he kisses you hard, kisses you deep, kisses you like you’d never been kissed before, pulling the air right out of your lungs.

as you pull away from his mouth momentarily, needing to catch a breath, niall’s forehead rested against yours, he murmurs, “how drunk are you ?”

you giggle softly, shaking your head, “drunk enough to have the courage to do this,” you hum, pressing your lips to his again, “to have the courage to take what i’ve been wanting for longer than i can remember.”

niall groans, pressing you back into the wall, teeth nipping into your bottom lip, “your boyfriend doesn’t need to know about this,” he murmurs against the plushness of your mouth.

truthfully, niall wanted you. christ, he’s always wanted you. and so he’ll take this opportunity, even if it means it’s only a one time thing.

but he catches you shaking your head, feels your hands pressing into his ass, hips grinding into each other, “doesn’t fuckin matter. s’you i’ve always wanted. now please show me what i’ve been missing all these years.”

……

Masterlist

[beantothemax]

(heyyy guess what time it is)

The pestle hit the edge of the mortar, slipping down and hitting the wood of the desk with a hard ‘thunk’. Alfyn winced and examined the spot he’d hit, checking for damage. He’d already left a couple spots in the desk that he’d have to hope the inn would overlook, or at least that Tressa would help him cover the damages. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Still shaky, still blinking back tears and staving off a meltdown at every error. He had to remind himself, constantly – he’s a professional. He earned his mantle and his satchel. Others rely on him. Just because you helped someone who was better off left for dead, just because you’re a worse judge of character than a blind rat, just because you aren’t capable of fixing your own stupid mistakes on your own…This wasn’t helping. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Back to grinding. If there was no other constant in his life, there was his mortar and pestle. Solid, rhythmic, real. Soothing. It would not remind him of his failures, would not leave him to plead with the gods and ask what he did wrong, would not judge him for his shortcomings. It would simply sit there, waiting and eager to be filled with herbs and components, perfectly patient until Alfyn picked it up and began his work.

The door behind him opened with a light creak, and closed with a quiet click. The gentle jangling of keys as the door was locked. Light footsteps and a barely-audible flop onto Alfyn’s bed. It seemed like everything Therion did was with a light hand, quiet, hidden. Of course it was, he’d worked for years to get it that way. No errors, no mistakes, no lapses in judgment, only his senses honed to perfection at all times. Cunning and smart and capable. Therion had been the one who first warned Alfyn about Vanessa, and had been completely right. He had warned Alfyn about Miguel as well, said that he gave him a ‘bad feeling’, and had been right again. He never pushed it. Why would he? Alfyn was stubborn, and they were friends, and maybe Therion was just as scared of losing that tenuous connection as he was. Or maybe he just pitied him, thought that pressing the issue would be too much for Alfyn. Or maybe wanted him to learn things the hard way, as Therion no doubt had, about how the world is full of cruelty.

Thunk.

His grip on the pestle tightened, trembled. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Back to work.

“...Whatcha doin there?” Even his voice was soft as he so graciously ignored Alfyn’s incompetence.

“Just…making some stuff.” Alfyn shrugged, unable to muster his usual enthusiasm about his craft. He didn’t even remember what he had put in the mortar, he had just wanted something to do with his hands besides remember the heft of the axe as he slayed his own patient. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It probably matters if someone’s gonna put it in their body.” Probably meant to be a wisecrack, but in his misery he could only interpret it as another reminder of his failure as an apothecary. Can’t even make medicine right, the one thing you’re supposed to do.

“Hm. Guess so.” His voice only cracked a little bit. Out of the corner of his eye, Therion furrowed his brow and sighed into his scarf. Silence, for a time. The grinding of the mortar and pestle, barking somewhere off in the city, the bells of the church as the hour turned over.

“When’s the last time you ate, medicine man?” Not the question he had expected Therion to pose, maybe something more like ‘why did you save that shithead after I told you he was bad news’, or ‘why don’t you get your head out of your ass and do your job’. The real answer was that food was the farthest thing from his mind. It was all he could do to keep the lifeless, bloodshot eyes of Miguel’s corpse out of his mind, to keep from remembering how it felt as his spine split under his axe.

“I’m fine.”

“Really, now.” No longer a question.

“Had some breakfast,” Alfyn lied, not looking up. “Light lunch. Don’t worry about me-” His platitudes were cut short as Therion reached across him and grabbed his wrist. He had once again hit the pestle on the side of the mortar, nearly hitting the desk. His hand tremored despite his grip on the stone rod.

“You’re a shit liar, you know that?” Therion released his hand.

“...Been told a few times.” He didn’t know what he expected, lying to the thief. He’d never once been able to fool him. Therion sighed and stood up.

“Alright. Get your boots on. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“The tavern. You need to eat.”

“Since when have you been so concerned for my health?” It came out more combative than he wanted, more defensive.

“Since I saw you almost smash the desk with your own pestle. Come on.” Unfazed, of course.

“Mm. Lemme get my stuff together.” Alfyn painstakingly stood up, not realizing how bad he’d be slouching. He pulled on his boots and threw on his mantle, suddenly feeling too big for him. He hesitated a moment before putting on his satchel. A piece of his body and a piece of his family, a piece of Zeph that he always kept by his side, suddenly weighing heavier on his shoulder, feeling more foreign than familiar.

“Leave the bag.”

“Huh?” Even in his self-doubt, a ludicrous ask. He may as well have asked Alfyn to leave his arm behind.

“We’re just going to dinner. You don’t need to bring your satchel.” 

“I can’t just…not have it.” Alfyn shifted uncomfortably. “What if someone needs help?”

“You’re not the only apothecary in town, you know.” Therion cocked his hip, resting a hand on it.

“Well, what if you get hurt?”

“I’ll live the ten minutes it takes to get back here.”

“But what if you–”

“Alfyn.” Therion’s face shifted, much more patient than Alfyn had ever remembered seeing it before. “You don’t have to be on duty all the time. Aren’t you always telling Cyrus and Tressa to take some time off. Don’t you keep telling me to take breaks? Just…” He held his hands in front of him, as if pleading, “don’t be an apothecary for tonight. Take a break.”

Alfyn licked his lips. “It’s…it’s different.” It sounded lame, even to him, but there was no going back now.

Therion’s patience visibly began to wane. “Different how, Alfyn?”

“It’s – nobody’s gonna die if you or Cyrus or Tressa stop workin’ for a while. But if I do, then –”

“Then bring the damn satchel,” Therion snapped as he angrily unlocked the door. “You don’t need to give me an excuse to carry your little security blanket, y’know. Now let’s fucking go already.”

HNNGHHHBZZ,,,, BLAZE. BLAZE. ALFYN CHALTER 3 STUFF IS MY SOLE WEAKNESS AND YOU’RE DRIVING A KNIFE THROUGH MY HEART HERE

god. alfyn just being so so close to breaking down and his mortar and pestle being the sole thing keeping him grounded is. hooh. that hurt my heart a little to read

AND ALFYN FEELING LIKE HE DOESN’T DESERVE ZEPH’S SATCHEL…. AUGH

I once again love how you write these two taking… theri having his usual snarky undertone but genuinely worrying about alfyn…. and alfyn being shocked when he asks him about how he’s doing and not just some sort of remark…. god when are these two gonna kiss/lh

and theri’s whole talk at the end!!!!! how alfyn’s always talking about how the others need to take breaks and yet he doesn’t!!! characters so determined to help others that they don’t take the time to take care of themselves!!!!!!

im assuming this is a snippet of your ‘drinking buddies’ fic that I’ve seen you talk about a few times and if it is it’s really good so far and I wish you good luck finishing it!!!! and if it isn’t it’s still really good!!!!

[mickules]

I feel so bad for Michi. Not only does he lose another brother, but he has to be told about why Mondo was executed and the lie he told the gang. Would he ever forgive him?

ANGST TIME! USE YOUR DISCRETION! dark themes ahead - canonical character death, injury and pink blood

Takemichi is smart, and more than that he knows the brothers. I've no doubt that he never took the accident at face value, never quite believed the narrative that Daiya got greedy and stupid and lost his life over it, but I don't think the would have realised the extent of Mondo's secrecy. Discovering the truth, and what Mondo was willing to do to run from it would be a cold, devastating shock to the system. But worse than that, Takemichi knows that had Mondo ever revealed the lie to him or the gang before the tragedy, He might not have been able to forgive him. Might not have been able to be there for Mondo the way he needed him, and Takemichi hates himself for it. Because now, he'd do anything, forgive anything if it meant he could have Mondo and the Diamonds back.

[from one of my angst comics] When Takaaki and Takemichi first cross paths in the demon hunting game, Takaaki was less than lucid - injured, paranoid, angry and a hair's breadth from giving into despair, latching onto Takemichi as a facsimile of his son was something of a defense mechanism. He moved beyond that quite quickly, bolstered by just how different Michi was compared to Taka, but still would suffer lapses of judgment after the more gruelling days. Once the game is over, and Takaaki has regained what little stability he could, he no longer gets the boys confused, but it takes longer for him to realise quite how much of his behaviour Michi had internalised.

@mypeacockfeathers (!!Takaaki connoisseur is HIGH PRAISE!! :D) Taichi surviving the game would definitely throw Takaaki for a loop. He knows the too kind, too trusting, too soft Taichi might be better off if he passed away, his injuries life altering and the world a nightmare; but Takaaki desperately wants him to live. He'd hate to admit it but he wants Taichi to survive for the small comfort to know there's someone, just one who might share Takaaki's pain, the loss of their child. Almost as a penance for the self-centred desire to be understood Takaaki takes it upon himself to tell Taichi of Chihiro's fate once he has healed enough to bear it, and he keeps a vigil so that he does not have to wake up alone.

---

Takaaki would hold no grudge against Fujiko, but he would also make no effort to reach out preferring to keep to himself and the very few that he instils any trust into (really only Takemichi, Taichi and Hiro. Hiroko is another matter since she has trouble forgiving any loss of life, and struggles to come to terms with the deaths that occured at Takaaki's hands whilst surviving the game) Fujiko in turn would find Takaaki absolutely terrifying and would avoid him at all costs. If they could bridge that gap, they might get along, but it also might take more effort than it's worth.

(GODDAMN @hawklanthebard , you are genuinely responsible for a decent chunk of my angst content XD) (EDIT: [EXCELLENT FIC OF THIS CONCEPT])

Oh boy, Takaaki would never forgive him. He might even do something he'd regret. . . ON A LIGHTER NOTE; I don't believe Mondo would ever have the forethought to check for a pulse, especially when he's panicking - maybe Taka is totally fine! . . . maybe. . .

in reference to the asks under the read more of [this post]

we really just gonna put Takaaki through the wringer ain't we

Haiji as a counterpart to Takaaki works far better than I'd like: Takaaki: a good man who has had to do bad things, and Haiji: a bad man who just so happens to have done good things (of course Dangan, you coulda done ANYTHING ELSE to have made it clear Haiji was a wrong'un but you had to go and make him a NONCE)

As such, unfortunately, when it comes to imprisonment with no evidence of the crime, it comes down to their own consciences to condemn them. Although Takaaki would stand by his actions and, if he had to do everything over again might even have repeated them; he would not refute his crimes. Even though he believes them absolutely necessary, if demanded of him, he would serve his punishment since he would be weighed down in a way that Haiji never would be.

In a world of despair, it's not those who actually deserve to be punished that get their just rewards (and lord knows Haiji bloody deserves it)

---

You're absolutely right; Takaaki's life has been a constant battle against a rising tide and when that dam bursts, the one thing that's been holding him together- anything getting in the way of the torrent that's unleashed, would be cataclysmic. It's just as well none of the Warriors of Hope actually had the misfortune to find him.

---

You have my apologies my good anon! But it hurts so good: Like a nut-shot to the HEART

(previous set of angst asks [under this illustration])

[shes-a-gryffindor]

Of Apples and Psychological Lapses

A @jilytoberfest submission. Prompt #12 - One overhearing something they're not supposed to.

That day, on an otherwise uneventful morning, it started with an apple, of all things.

James Potter sat straddling the bench at the Gryffindor table, poring over what Lily supposed was a textbook, elbow on a knee with an apple in his hand.

Only half listening to Mary’s recitation of the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death that they were supposed to be brewing later that day, she chanced upon another look at him…. the muscles in his jaw jumped as he bit into his apple, and as she watched him laugh at something she couldn’t hear, Lily found herself wondering whether he’d always had that dimple in his cheek… before she’d had the chance to mentally scold herself for her apparent loss of self-control, James caught her eye; grinning roguishly, he winked at her before taking another bite…

“You’re doing it again,” said Mary,

Lily’s neck snapped so quickly away from James she thought she might have whiplash, “doing what?”

“Making love eyes at Potter” she sniggered.

“Don’t be daft,” responded Lily dismissively, “I was not giving him love eyes” she added, silently cursing the blush now creeping up her neck, “…anyway, the ingredients…for today, you were reading them…” a lame attempt at a change in subject.

Mary smirked at her for a moment before returning to her textbook; relieved that she’d been let off the hook, Lily focused intently on Mary’s recitation, despite already knowing the ingredients from memory, she was determined not to look over again at the group of boys sitting only a few feet away from them.

Thinking they’d get a head start on the swarm of students that would soon be filing out of the hall, they packed their books and downed the last of their pumpkin juice. As she stood, Lily glanced quickly over at James again, he was in animated conversation with Sirius, the apple hanging loosely from his fingers at his side… and a ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

Deliberating over it in the seconds it took them to reach the spot where he was sitting, before she’d even really decided upon it, she’d snatched the apple out from his hand, twisting her head round to wink back at him, before taking a bite of what was now her apple.

“Shut up,” she smirked at Mary, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion; she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head during Transfiguration, then found herself loitering after class, trying to chance perhaps walking out at the same time as him… before realising she was behaving like an idiot and walking quickly out alone.

History of Magic was, in particular, a challenge. It was, as usual, rather impossible to focus on the monotony that was Professor Binns' lesson.

Serenely unaware that no one seemed the least bit interested in his thorough breakdown of wand legends through time, he droned on… “The Death Stick, The Wand of Destiny…” and by the time the lesson was over Lily and James had shared several silent exchanges across the classroom.

Potions that afternoon was perhaps, although short-lived, her only reprieve. Lily was quite comfortable in her element, happily brewing her Draught of Living Death. Having already reached the ideal halfway stage, she smiled contentedly down at the smooth, black currant-colored liquid in her cauldron.

Just as she was about to start chopping her roots, she caught James, brow furrowed, curiously observing her potion, before looking back at his own - which appeared to be eliciting a sort of blue-ish haze, not horrible but certainly not what it should have been doing by that point… better, if nothing else, than Peter’s… who was looking more distressed by the minute at the now foul smelling, brown concoction bubbling in his cauldron.

“Care to share your expertise, Evans?” Asked James, grinning over at her. With his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, his forearms were tense as he shifted his body weight onto them, leaning over the table toward her… and Lily thought quietly, that the dimple in his cheek was obviously not the only thing she’d failed to notice.

“Afraid not, Potter,” she responded, “see If I told you, I’d have to kill you… although, could be doing myself a favour there,” she added, smirking at him.

“Better not then, otherwise you might actually get some peace and quiet… can’t have that,” he said seriously.

“Merlin forbid,” she mumbled, in mock exasperation.

“Merlin forbid,” began Sirius, “all this terrible flirting makes me throw up in my cauldron.”

Mary and Peter burst into a fit of giggles, even Remus, it seemed, found it amusing, while James just grinned down at his cauldron.

“Your potion can’t get any worse than it already is Black… I say try it,” Lily mocked.

Sirius, however, had cast his attention elsewhere.

From the corner of the next table over, having apparently overheard the entire exchange, Severus was looking darkly over at them. His eyes flickered briefly between James and Lily before returning to his potion. She knew she’d been shamelessly flirting with him, for days, weeks really… what she hadn’t realised was how blatantly obvious it was becoming, to everyone even beyond their friends; blushing furiously and feeling rather sheepish, she scowled at Sirius, who was still grinning smugly over at Severus, before returning to her own potion.

As she made the last of her rounds that evening, her mind once again wandered to what was fast becoming something, or rather, someone, she thought about much too often. He’d looked a little too smug after catching her at dinner - watching, as a Hufflepuff in the year below them asked for his help with a Transfiguration essay that weekend… in addition to self-control, she was now apparently also losing her common sense… it was perfectly acceptable that he help another student with an essay, why should this bother her…? But honestly an essay over the weekend, she thought… ask the bloke out and be done with it, what a stupid excuse… Surely he knew the girl fancied him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of them, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library poring over an essay together, was extremely disconcerting, this sudden interest in who he was spending time with… He’d made his existence impossible to ignore for the better part of six years, perhaps now that he wasn’t asking her out at every turn her mind was playing that stupid game, the one where you only want something because it’s not as easy to get anymore, not because you genuinely want it… some psychological lapse in judgement… yes that must be it; so trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of order, Lily resolved to get a grip.

She met Remus in the dungeons and together they checked the last of the corridors before heading back up to the common room, chatting about weekend plans, their upcoming exams and whether they had anything planned for the summer holidays before their seventh year.

Lily was careful to steer the conversation in another direction anytime it got a little too close to James, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled (maybe a little bit) when they stepped through the portrait hole to find James, Sirius and Peter sitting alone in the common room. With a warm smile, Remus bid her goodnight and went to join his friends in front of the fire.

“All right, Evans?” Asked James, grinning that lone-dimpled grin as she walked past.

Shooting him a quick tight lipped smile, she trudged up the staircase to her dormitory with an infuriatingly pink face; she had just reached the top of the staircase, however, when she heard Sirius snigger -

“Reckon she might actually prefer you to the giant squid now.”

Failing in her resolve to get a grip before she’d even begun, and apparently not above eavesdropping now either, Lily stopped and stood there at the top of the staircase, dead silent, craning her neck to listen to them.

“What?” Asked James, “What makes you say that?” In his voice, Lily heard a hint of what she thought sounded like hope.

“Are you daft? Or do you just want to hear it all back?”

“A bit of both I think,” chuckled Remus.

“Did you not see Snivelly’s face in potions? Even he can tell she fancies you mate,” said Sirius, dryly.

“Looked a bit put out, didn’t he?” Chuckled James.

“A bit? Looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or hex you,” chortled Peter, “d’you reckon him and Evans… you know-”

“What? Asked James, cutting him off, “went out?”

“Nah,” answered Sirius quickly, “who’d want to go out with that? Didn’t they know each other from before school, or something?”

“Yeah… they were friends,” said James, with finality in his voice.

“‘Till he showed his true colours,” scoffed Sirius, “…bit naive of her though, don’t you think? To think that he’d be anything but the slimy git he is.”

Lily had half a mind to go down and give Sirius a piece of her mind, until…

“Nah,” said James, “I reckon she knew who he was the whole time… she just chooses to see the good in everyone, y’know? Even a slimy git like Snivellus.” When no one said anything, he added, “Personally, I don’t think she should change that about herself.”

There was silence… and then someone made a dry-retching sound like they were throwing up, followed by scuffling and a series of thuds, “gerrof!” Came Sirius’s muffled voice, over Peter and Remus’s laughter.

Deciding she’d heard enough, Lily tiptoed quietly into her dorm; and as she pulled the scarlet hangings of her four-poster around her that night, she thought perhaps her interest in James Potter wasn’t a psychological lapse in judgment at all.

[earliebirb]

nosedive

steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words

Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.

From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.

He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly. 

The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear. 

“Hello?” 

Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.

“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”

“...What?”

“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”

“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”

“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”

“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”

“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”

“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”

“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”

“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”

“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”

“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”

“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”

“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”

“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”

“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”

“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”

“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”

“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”

“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.

Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”

Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit. 

“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”

“A… feeling?”

“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”

“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”

“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”

“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”

“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”

“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”

“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”

“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”

“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”

“Do what? And stop saying that—”

“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”

“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”

“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week. 

“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tony?”

They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this. 

“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”

“Tony, wait.”

“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.

Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. 

“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”

“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”

“Tony. Breathe.”

Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane���s engine.

“Look, Tony, I—”

“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”

“Tony—”

“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”

“But—”

“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”

“...Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”

“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”

Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”

“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply. 

As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone. 

Come back home to me. 

That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.

“I hear you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.

He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him. 

“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”

Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.

He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him. 

It’s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand. 

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—

“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.

Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks. 

“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”

“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”

Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.

“Oh.”

Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d make it home safely.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—” 

Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.

“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”

“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.

Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.

Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.

Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator. 

“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”

“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”

Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes. 

“Where are we going?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Why are you carrying me there?”

“Because I want to.”

“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”

“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”

“Um.”

“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”

“I, uh, missed you too.”

Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.

When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed. 

That is not, in fact, what happens. 

Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve. 

“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Tony blinks.

“We’re not?”

“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”

“Oh.”

Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.

“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”

Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously. 

Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.

The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.

“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.

The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.

“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”

Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.

“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”

Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.

“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.

“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.

“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.

Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.

They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.

“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”

Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”

Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.

Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.

Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled. 

“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s. 

Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”

[plus-size-reader]

Freedom pt.2

Dwight x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1517 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Negan’s daughter trying to negotiate the suggestion Dwight had, even though it could be dangerous for them both

Part 1

——————————————————————————————————

"We are going to run away"

As soon as the words left Dwight's lips, he regretted them. Not for the sake of them, of course, but because there was no taking them back. After the way running away had gone for him the first time, it was a terrible idea.

A dangerous idea.

If he tried to do it again and failed, there was no telling what Negan would do to him and if he took you with him, it was surely a death sentence. Your dad would kill him for that, even if you tried to tell him that you took part in it.

...Even if you told him why you'd done it

Really, you could have told him anything and there was a good chance Negan wouldn't listen. Not even his little princess could make a lapse in trust and judgment okay. Dwight would surely die for something like that.

Still, there was just something about you that made the blonde not care.

As stupid as he knew it was to even entertain the idea of taking you and getting as far away from the Sanctuary as possible, you were worth the risk to him.

The dreamy look on your face as you looked at this place, and the people that lived there was more than enough for him to be willing to risk it all. You were beautiful, and he was sure that he would be willing to do anything even if it just made you smile.

It was worth more than anything to him.

You were shocked that he would even say something like that, but it would be a lie to say that it didn't also make you really happy. Even if he wasn't entirely serious, it was something that you often found yourself dreaming about when you were alone.

The idea of getting out and living the life you'd always craved.

"You really mean it? You think that we could do that?" you gasped, now speaking in a much more hushed tone. It was clear that you were thinking over what that could mean, or how it would work.

There were a lot of moving parts and the chances of you being able to actually pull it off were slim to none. There was no way that you could pull it off without anyone finding out and even if you did do it somehow, Negan would surely send everyone he had after you both.

If Dwight thought he'd went all out the first time he'd tried to run away from the sanctuary, there was no comparison to how it would be if you actually went through with this.

You knew your father pretty well, and if he had to, he would send every Savior out after you. Nothing would be too much to get you back home.

It just wasn't something you could risk

You wanted to make it work so bad, and you would have done anything to get out of there but you just didn't want to risk Dwight in order to do it. Even if you had to stay trapped within the walls of the sanctuary, like a prisoner, you knew that D would be safe that way.

As soon as you two left that compound, there was nothing you could do to guarantee that he would be protected from your dad's wrath.

You just weren't sure that the small chance you had at freedom was going to be worth the potential loss that you would sustain if you two got caught. Negan would probably lock you away for the rest of your life if he found out you were even having this conversation.

He would take it as a personal offense, as if you had both rejected him, and that just wasn't going to work.

You both just needed to face the facts.

There was no future for you two in which you just got to happily be together. Even if you wanted to try and make it work within the sanctuary, you could never tell anyone about it or take the chance that they could find out.

You would constantly be hiding away from the rest of the world.

"I'd like to try" he shrugged, reaching out to slowly take your hand in his own, once he'd checked to make sure that none of the other Saviors were around to see you. It was a little bothersome, to have to constantly cover your tracks, but you had to make due.

As much as you hated feeling like a secret, like he was ashamed of you, you understood why it had to be that way. If you wanted to be alive, this was just what you had to do.

"It's too dangerous, we could never do that" you decided finally, just in time to catch a glimpse of Negan headed toward where you both were. Then without even looking back, you stood from your place and headed toward him.

It broke your heart to do that, to switch it up that way when you were so close to getting what you'd always wanted but the danger it would put Dwight in just wasn't worth it to you. You would rather never speak to him again than lose him trying to be selfish.

If something you did got him killed, you were sure you'd never get over it.

That left Dwight in a pretty strange place, confused as to how quickly the conversation had soured, but maybe he'd just hit a nerve. It was stupid for him to even think something like that could work.

"I want to go home now" you announced, your words more than an order than anything else but Negan didn't even give it a second thought. The raid was wrapping up and there was no reason for you to stay, so he got you all set up in Simon's truck and you were on your way.

...And just as you pulled away, you caught sight of Dwight, standing there where you'd left him.

He had no idea how he managed to get himself into this position, but one thing was for sure, this whole thing wasn't over for either of you. Consequences be damned,  that couldn't be how this ended.

~

You didn't see Dwight again until a few days later, as you had been pretty obviously avoiding him but eventually, he got the better of you. The sanctuary was only so big and you couldn't stay away from him forever.

"Hey, is everything okay? I haven't seen you for a while" he started, catching you on your way up the stairway. Right now, it was just the two of you in that space but you knew it wouldn't be that way for very long.

Rather than stop to answer his question, you just kept scaling the stairs, desperately hoping that he would just move on and leave you alone. Though, with the clear feelings you had for one another, it was a longshot.

...And it wasn't like this was easy for you in the first place.

You didn't like having to stay away from Dwight, who was easily your favorite person in this whole compound. It was all just too real for you there in Alexandria, talking about the future that you could share.

The danger, and the potential made for a deadly combination and it would just be easier for everyone if you put a stop to it entirely. You wouldn't lose him to some childish dream, that never should have happened at all.

There was no future for either of you, and you just needed to accept that now.

"Dwight, just stop. We can't do this anymore" you decided finally, hoping that would be enough to discourage him. It wasn't of course, but you had to try. Even if he made a choice to ignore your warnings entirely, you couldn't be a part of it anymore.

You didn't have the luxury of being naïve anymore.

Your actions had consequences and if you had the wrong choices, you would have to face them.

"Just talk to me. I can fix this" he tried, grabbing your wrist gently in his own. It was enough to spin you around to face him, though you yanked your arm free as soon as you met his eyes. This was real life and if he couldn't make the right call, you weren't going to give him an option at all.

It was as simple as that.

"Do you have any idea what could happen to you? That burn will seem like a slap on the wrist if dad catches us here" you reminded, not really willing to find out if your words were the truth.

You'd seen him do much worse for much less.

You could see in the blonde's face that he was trying his hardest to find some way to convince you that wasn't true, but he couldn't. So, before he could make this any worse than it already was, you opened the door to your floor, only stopping briefly before leaving completely.

"Goodbye D"

[kylos-bens]

Mistakes Like This ↠ Obi-Wan Kenobi (Obi-Wan x Reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: ANGST! 

A/N: Its been a while since I’ve written something but this Obi-Wan obsession came running back so here I am. 

Masterlist

Chapter 2 

gif credit: @ewan-mcgregor

The halls to the Jedi Library were too quiet as you strolled through them. You were recently assigned to teach a few Younglings as part of your rotation in the Jedi Temple. This week you had too much in your mind so you thought about assigning them a few readings and get on with it. After a nasty injury, a near-death experience, you were left back at the Jedi Temple to recuperate. You were alone for the most part of that and now you were just getting back to business by starting off slow by teaching Younglings. Which you never thought would actually be something that interested you but it did. You were just about to make a turn when you saw members of the Council gathered together. It was rare to see them out and about so you just slowed your pace and tried to listen in. Through the bodies, you spotted him. 

Master Kenobi. 

Your breath hitched and felt a twinge on the healing wound on your back. There was only a split second before you can move along and ignore that little crowd but it was too late. Your eyes already met. His furrowed eyebrows softened and those kind blue eyes lit up. The last time you saw them you were dipping in and out of consciousness laying on a snowy planet waiting for reinforcements. The only thing that kept you warm was his breath and hot tears. You were actually surprised that they didn’t turn into ice.  

Immediately you just went on your way. The memories of that mission already being shoved into a deep pocket in your mind. You hurriedly make your way to the Jedi Library hoping to avoid distractions. Once inside you moved through the tall shelves and hid. Your breathing had not changed. It worried you that you would be too loud so you just bit into your arm and cried. 

It has been too long. You haven’t seen him. Deep down you had guilt and embarrassment for what you confessed to him while you laid in his arms dying. The feelings that you had for him since your padawan days. His eyes were filled with tears and he kept telling you to not speak because you were straining yourself. He held you close to him telling you that they were coming.  Death was approaching and your foolish self thought it was a good idea to just tell him all that. Now that you were capable of thinking correctly you realized he probably didn’t want to hear it. You’d pick death over having to face him again. He never forgets. You wiped your eyes and just took a deep breath. Foolish. You keep repeating that to yourself. 

-

No one knows this but in the evenings while you were still recovering you would drag yourself out of the medical bay. You were already starting to feel fine and you could walk so no one really went after you. Your favorite place to sit was in the temple gardens. It wasn’t too far from where you were supposed to be so it didn’t make you lose your breath. 

Sitting here now you admired the view of Coruscant. The dark velvety night sky was dotted with ships here and there, the skyscrapers like stalagmites looming over, and just the noises of the city calmed you. You pretended you weren’t a Jedi Knight but a simple citizen of Coruscant just trying to get by. 

“Out of all people I was surprised to hear you didn’t miss me,” the voice broke your daydreaming. You didn’t respond and didn’t dare turn around. There was an icy silence and you could hear the soft crunch of grass underneath your former master’s boots. 

“I guess I was just busy with my new duties,” you kept your eyes low and fiddled with a leaf. You did miss him but you had to lie to yourself. His presence made you nervous because this was the first time you were alone together again. You didn’t dare ask if Obi-Wan Kenobi came to visit you in the infirmary when you woke up from your induced coma. What would the nurses say? His demeanor was calm and you couldn’t help it, you gave him a quick glance. Those blue eyes were already watching you intently. 

“And so I heard,” he motioned his arm to the spot beside you and you just give him a nod. Obi-Wan let out a soft breath as he sat next to you on the dewy grass. A distance that was fine for you but still you could smell him. His warm smell then filled you up and reminded you of the happier missions you went on with him. One particular memory was when the two of you shared a ride on a varactyl. You had no choice but didn’t complain because that was the first time you were so close to your master. 

“How did you find me?” you asked, still keeping your focus on this damn leaf. 

“I went to visit your quarters but you were missing,” he was looking at you. You felt that. “So I thought where would my young one go run off to?” When he said “young one” you felt goosebumps manifest throughout your body. He hasn’t called you that in ages. Once you became a Knight he respected your new title and called you by your name. While you, on the other hand, took sometime before you stopped calling him master. General was your usual name for him now. Even that was unfamiliar on your tongue these days. He noticed your silence. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” you replied. 

“How is your wound?” he continued on. There was more silence and then started doing his signature move of stroking his beard. He took a breath and looked at you again.  “I apologize that I was not there for your recovery the Council had me sent-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted him. You were trying to keep your eyes clear of tears. There were the sounds of alarms in the distance and Obi-Wan sat there with you listening. You could swear your heart was beating so loudly. The thoughts in your head were trying to share themselves but you quelled them. 

“You’re holding something back,” his voice was soft. He was doing this on purpose. You don’t answer him, just kept on playing with the leaf. His hand surprised you when he took the leaf out of it. “We can talk about it you know.” You looked at him this time. His hand is still in yours. 

“We don’t have to,” you whispered. 

“But it’s eating you up. I can see it in your eyes,” he matched the tone of your voice. 

“It was a lapse in judgment,” you take your hand away and his own was still suspended between you two. He drops it finally at his side and runs his thumb over the leaf you were just holding. “I said stupid things because I thought I was dying yet here I am.” You said the last few words with a little disgust that Obi-Wan actually looked at you with concern. “I had enough time to think about what I said and with a clearer mind, I urge you to just forget about it.” There was more silence and it pained you. You just stared at his profile and felt a twinge in your heart. He was beautiful and even in the poorly lit garden, you can still see the details of his face. Even his hair flittered a little as a slight breeze moved through the both of you. You studied that face while you were in your briefings, eating meals, and training. Of course, you knew all about the details. As you laid in your med bay cushion you always thought about how his eyes would never look at you the same way. Obi-Wan turned his head and the lamp post gave them a sparkle. 

“It is not simple for me to forget it,” he finally said. It was your turn to stare at him. “I thought you were dying in my arms. Deep within me, I felt your life force slipping away. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you were about to get up but he stopped you by gently holding your wrist. 

“Please listen to what I have to say,” his voice was gentle to match his hold on you. “We’ve been parted for too long.” You sat back down and observed him carefully. The last thing he said was swirling in your mind. Obi-wan lowered his head towards you and you held your breath. “I thought about you every day.” This hits you like a wall and you thought that your lungs were being crushed. He’s just saying these things because you were his padawan. Of course, he worried about your health. You stayed still. 

“Your duties didn’t keep you busy?” you used your own excuse on him. 

“You don’t believe me,” he lets out a sigh. “If I could I would have stayed and watched over you.” 

“We can’t,” you start. “We can’t-” 

“Let me show you,” Obi-Wan holds your hand in his and guides it near his face. You were confused but then you realized what he meant. “You were vulnerable when you expressed your feelings to me. Let me do the same.” He closed his eyes and you stared at him with your hand a few centimeters away from his temple. “It is difficult for me to say in words what I mean.” Is Master Kenobi unable to find the right words? This is definitely different and your heart was trying to break through your chest  “Remember what I taught you” You hesitated and was staring at his serene face. It wasn’t long till you closed your own. 

It was hazy but you can decipher the figures in his memories. You were surprised at how efficient you were at finding them. He really tore down his defenses. You tried to get a closer look. The memory felt soft to your touch and the warmth surrounded you. The figures were no other than the both of you sitting by a warm fire. It must have been a mission the two of you were on. You couldn’t recall but Obi sure does. Watching yourself make something out of the wiring and spare parts looked funny. That wasn’t your forte and this definitely was before you were knighted. Your master looked on at you with a small smile on his face. With his beard, you couldn’t tell but now that you stand there in his memories you could.  

“Master I do believe that I can make something out of this,” your own voice caused you to turn your attention to yourself. 

“I think you could,” he averted his eyes when your past self looked at him. You remember after you told him that you spent the entire mission trying to figure something out to make. Towards the end of your mission, you were just frustrated and just took a piece of what you believe was a droid and wrapped it in a leather string. It was childish, and you thought it would be a good joke after a successful trade deal, so you made two. One for you and one for your master. You knew it would just be lost somewhere in your travels so at the end when you were on your way back to Coruscant you gave him one and showed him yours. You guys made a joke about it and you felt so proud of yourself that you are finally at this level of comfort with him. After that, you never really saw those bracelets again. Even you lost it. 

The memory wavers and a new one was presented to you. Now it was just Obi-Wan. Your heart drops slightly because this memory feels recent. He looked tired and this definitely was not his quarters in the Jedi temple. It was small and looked almost like it was in one of the flagships. His outer robes were not on and he sat down on his cot. Covering his face with his hands and sighing. It could not have been the memory after your injury. 

He makes a slow movement and slides his hand into the robes he removed on the bed. He withdraws a worn metal object with a brown strap. It couldn’t be. 

It was the ugly bracelet you made for him.

The metal was worn and it looked like it was rubbed on for too long. Obi-Wan looked at it in his hand and brought it to his lips. Placing a light kiss on the metal and bringing it to his forehead. The sensation probably cooled him. He was starting to murmur something.  You inched closer and you can almost touch him. It was your name. Then he ran his thumb over the metal. “Please heal my darling. I need you to see once more.” You backed away and watched him. The memory once again wavers and you’re trying to grasp something. The dark surrounded you and then you heard your own laugh. The sound of your humming. Your breath as you parried another lightsaber by the sound of it. Memories were faint but they flashed in front of you. They were of you from Obi-Wan’s view. The images went by of your eyes, your hair fluttering as you perfect a move that he taught you, and the way your lips formed into a smile when he praised your new learned skill. 

It was overwhelming you had to remove yourself. This was way more than what you shared with him. You were back in the cool evening. The garden was now dark. It was just two bodies almost pressed together. You can hear his breathing and it was so close to you. Your eyes still lowered but you managed to look up and face him. Your wrist still in his and your fingers grazing the beard on his face. He was always already looking at you. Examining your facial expression and you can tell he was waiting for you to say something about what you saw. You couldn't, your tongue was frozen. “I didn’t know the feeling. It was foreign to me and I tried my best to hide it and not let those feelings split us up from each other.” You knew there were consequences to breaking the oath. “But when I held you in my arms that night all I wanted to do was tell you. I couldn’t because I knew you were strong and I was just trying to keep you alive.” 

“Obi,” you felt a tear release itself from your eyes and down one cheek. 

“Even if that meant that we couldn’t be together in a way we want to,” he searched your eyes and noticed the tear so he used his thumb to wipe it off your cheek. It lingered there and he placed it at the crook of your neck. “I just needed you to close” His forehead touched yours. Never in your life would you be this close to him. Your noses were touching and his hand gently stroked your neck. 

“Knowing you I know this would not be a secret,” you whispered. “Because nothing should happen between us.” He moves his hand down to your shoulder and you stayed still as it continued on to your back where your wound was. His touch was reverent and you were staring at him. 

“I have realized the moment I saw you again that I would be willing to break that expectation of me,” his lips were close to yours and you were aching to just meet them. His beard is already tickling your skin. Your hand on his face was quivering and he placed his own on it. “Darling, please.” It came out as a hushed whisper and your mind was running with thoughts. 

Even if that meant that we couldn’t be together in a way we want to. 

This was repeating in your head. The warm breath of your master on your lips was such an intoxicating feeling. You feel him running his fingers over your shoulder blade. Obi-Wan’s lips were just too make contact with yours when you jolted back. He released you and his eyes were saddened. Your heart at your throat as you moved away from him. 

“We shouldn’t,” was the last thing you said before darting back inside the temple. 

Next Chapter 

[blu-joons]

He Cheats On You ~ Park Jimin

Your heart pounded, glancing down continuously at the messages that were imprinted on the screen of your phone. At times it felt like your eyes were deceiving you, but you knew, in your heart that your worst fears had come true, as his footsteps echoed through the house.

“I’m home,” he grinned, skipping over to you. “How’s your day been love?”

There was an eerie silence from him, following the gaze of your eyes to your phone, several screenshots were in front of him, written by him, and a girl he had met at the arena a couple of weeks ago, as his eyes remembered every last word of it all.

“I don’t even have the words for you right now,” you sighed, looking away from his sad eyes. “Don’t try and make excuses Jimin, I just want the truth from you, right now.”

“I’m not going to make up any excuse, all I’m going to do is say I’m sorry,” he whispered. His heart shattered, hearing you call him by his name alone was enough to tell him he’d seriously messed up, sitting down on the sofa to steady himself.

As he did, you stood up, keeping your distance from him. “You don’t even have any fight in you, it’s like you don’t care, it’s like you don’t care about me, about us.” You harshly snapped, watching him sniffle, wiping away a tear that rolled down his cheek.

“Of course, I care,” he argued, turning his shameful gaze away from you, “but nothing really happened. We just exchanged a few messages, it’s not like I’m sleeping with her or anything, I’m not a monster Y/N.”

“Now tell me the truth,” you mumbled.

“I am, trust me, I’ve only met her once, and that was when we exchanged numbers, why don’t you believe me?” He cried out, slamming his fists down on the coffee table making you jump.

You wanted to believe him, you loved him, but that trust had been broken the moment you saw them screenshots, she had no reason to lie, and you had every reason to believe her.

“Can you at least just let me explain properly, I’ll tell you the truth, every last detail, I just want to make sure I’m not going to lose you, you’ll see soon this is just silly.”

Every word he spoke filled your heart with pain, every sentence he strung together felt like another lie, breaking your relationship further. How could he treat you like this after all this time?

“You’re losing me more with every lie you try to get me to believe, I’ve asked for the truth Jimin.”

It seemed so easy, he thought he could defend himself, make it clear to you that he didn’t cheat. But he forgot how strong you were, you weren’t gullible or stupid. You knew straight away, you knew just by the look in his eyes, he had cheated on you, for however long, or however many times, regardless, he had cheated on you.

You couldn’t let him see your tears, let him see the hurt he’d caused you. He’d hurt himself too, his carelessness and his arrogance had turned him into someone he never thought he’d be, a cheat, a disloyal boyfriend.

“We can move past this,” he choked, brushing a hand through his hair.

“You think I’m just going to forgive you? You can’t even admit what you’ve done, you’re still making excuses, pretending as if it is no big deal.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal if we don’t make it one. If you really want me to say it, yes, I cheated on you, but of course, I regret it. It was twice, two lapses of judgment, but I’m not prepared to lose you over them.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make right now, is it?”

“It’s not, but I know you, and I know how important I am to you, you need me like I need you,” he tried to convince you, but your head shook.

“I don’t need you,” you chuckled, “why would I need you in my life?”

“Because you love me.”

You scoffed; his attitude sent a cold shiver down your spine. “You’re right, I love you, or maybe I loved you, I don’t know anymore. You have no idea how much you’ve hurt me; I don’t think you’ll ever realise because all you’ve ever really cared about is yourself and your own interests.”

Slowly you felt the love of your life slip away, there was nothing left to hold onto, the hurt and the anguish he’d caused, could you ever really look past that? Your heart was broken, everything you thought you knew had well and truly disappeared.

The two of you had dreamt about it all, the happy ever after, the family, growing old together, making happy memories, but now all that was were distant memories.

“I’ll be honest Jimin, I don’t want to stretch this out, I think maybe it’s best if I leave, I don’t want to be here right now, not with you.”

He sat back and watched you walk away, heading up the stairs to pack a bag. A light giggle escaped from him, there was no way you’d ever leave him, not really, your threats were empty.

Yet, as you walked downstairs with a heavy bag in your hand, reality suddenly hit you. Hearing the steps, you took towards the front door made him jump up, sprinting over to you.

“You can’t go, where have you got to stay?” He asked, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “This is your home too Y/N.”

“It was my home,” you corrected him, “it was our home that we were going to spend forever in, but it’s only down to you that that’s changed Jimin.”

Your arm yanked out of his grasp, taking your jacket from the coat hooks. “Will you come back? To me? To us? Please don’t break us up.”

“The only person that’s broken us up is you. I’ve spent years loving you, fighting your corner, supporting you through everything, but this it how you repay me.  I hope you and your ego are happy together, because no one will want you know.”

“You don’t really want to go.”

“I do,” you whispered, biting at your bottom lip, “I need to do this for me.”

You turned the latch on the door, welcoming in the cold, winter breeze. He gasped at the cold gust of wind that hit him, staring at you in disbelief.

“When a time is suitable, I’ll come back and get the rest of my stuff, I need time to sort something out for myself, and then move on from all of this.”

“I am sorry, you know, that right?” He sighed, watching you step out of the front door. With a light giggle, you turned to face his soft expression.

“You’re not sorry Jimin, you’re sorry I found out, there’s nothing more to it. Maybe next time think about what you want from a relationship, because this isn’t it.”

You took your bag, walking over to your car. You couldn’t turn back to look at him, as the tears freely fell down your cheeks. Hot tears fell down his own as he watched the love of his life walk away.

One mistake, and he’d lost it all.

---

Masterlist

[criscpi]

"There he is, the beloved king of the year, the one who will take anyone to bed as long as they breathe."

I had just arrived. As usual, my friends would gather outside the clubs to complain about being single and resent those who were more successful than them.

But this time I could hear in Moyo an unheard of contempt.

"Hey there! who are you talking about?"

I approach the group.

Moyo doesn't say anything, but points to the most handsome boy on campus.

"What did Sander do to you?"

Moyo looks at me suspiciously

"You know him?"

He's been inhabiting my dreams for a long time.

"Sander? Not in person..."

I just hope I don't show too much of the blush that has suddenly sprung up on my cheeks

"Ah, his half-normal, half-fag fame precedes him..."

Before I could retort to that gigantic nonsense, Moyo walks up to Sander and starts repeating the same things in his face:

The tension is through the roof and they start shoving each other.

"Back off, I'm not interested in your judgments."

"It's not judgments it's the truth."

I approach.

And I get in the way.

"Moyo knock it off. We're here for a party. What's wrong with you tonight?"

"He fucked the girl I liked and then left her for a guy."

"So?"

"So Robbe? That's not normal!"

Enough. I was fed up.

"That's enough, Moyo."

"No, let me vent."

My hand departs without thinking and the punch that lands on Moyo is quite strong and unexpected:

"Now you listen to me: the fact that you couldn't be with that girl has nothing to do with Sander, understand?"

Moyo hits me back:

"You're defending the half-fag and not your friend? Are you from that side too? Or do you go back and forth like him?"

My nose is bleeding but I pretend not to feel the pain.

"I'm defending justice, it has nothing to do with how I feel about him because Moyo...“

I throw myself at him with an anger I've never felt.

"I've been gay all my life, but I've never said it because I have a bunch of obtuse dickheads as friends."

Moyo is clearly stronger than me, and he doesn't stop hitting me until I come out: that's when he seems to wake up, as if having a gay man around is a game changer.

"Robbe."

"You and I are done, I don't want to have friends like that...and now..."

"I've been gay all my life, but I've never said it because I have a bunch of obtuse dickheads as friends."

I stand up but I don't know how long I can keep from passing out.

"Leave Sander al..."

I couldn't. I passed out.

I'm not used to fighting. I wake up and it hurts everywhere. The place where I am I don't know, but I don't care, I just want to sleep.

"Robbe, that's your name right?"

I nod.

"Are you thirsty?"

"I throw up if I drink."

"Do you fight a lot?"

I try to open my eyes and see a blurry Sander.

I try to smile at him

"First time ever...are you Sander?"

"Yes I am...You weren't bad for a newbie...however you didn't have to..."

"No, I did have to. I was sick of hearing their talk out of time. I was sick of having to hide, friends aren't like that..."

"Right, but now it's going to take you a few days to recover. Moyo's a jerk but he's also twice your size."

“Bad start as a fighter right? Where am I?”

"At my house, my mother is a doctor and I thought it best to figure out whether or not I should take you to the hospital... your folks have been notified... I think

you will have to spend the vacations here"

The news hits me but I'm not lucid enough to understand exactly what it entailed.

"I'm sorry you have to take me on for Christmas."

"Don't even joke about that and then Robbe...you stood up for me in front of everyone. Take it as a thank you."

The phone rings:

"Robbe it's Jens... He's been calling you for hours...what do you want to do?"

"I'll answer. He's the only decent friend I have."

"Hello?"

"Robbe, how are you? Where are you?"

"I'm pretty sore but nothing broken. I'm safe."

"I'm... sorry"

"Jens, forget about it, we'll talk about it after the vacations."

"I can't move because of my injuries. And honestly Jens I need time. And I don't know if I'll still feel like seeing or talking to the others."

"I can't move because of my injuries. And honestly Jens I need time. And I don't know if I'll still feel like seeing or talking to the others."

"I understand... “

"Jens, thank you. I'll talk to you in the next few days."

I throw the phone toward my feet. This situation hurts more than the bruises.

"Robbe, why didn't you tell him you were here?"

"And risk them ruining your Christmas? No."

"Stop thinking about me."

"I haven't done anything else for months. Now can I rest some more?"

I don't know why, but I think I saw him smile.

"Sure."

Had I really been that stupid? Had I really said that thing that I had been holding in with difficulty for months and now it came out like it was the easiest thing in the world? Give me a shovel. I want to bury myself.

Maybe a couple of hours go by and Sander's mom comes in to check on me:

"Robbe how are you?"

"Sore, but the eyes seem less swollen."

Mrs. Driesen holds my head still and checks with some metal objects.

"It really looks like just bruises.... If you want you can try to get up as soon as Sander gets back."

"Where did he go? No sorry, none of my business."

Sander's mom is silent for a minute, she seems to be smiling. Everyone in this house is smiling and I think it's beautiful.

"He went to retrieve your clothes and finish buying Christmas presents."

"The presents! I had to go in the

Afternoon!"

"Robbe, I'll tell you what: if tomorrow

your eyes and legs respond well Sander will accompany you. They are bruises it's true, but they are important bruises: you almost broke yourself in several places."

"Alright, I get it, no more superheroes stuff..."

"That's right. Now rest, it's important. Then I'll check back in and we'll see if you can come down for dinner."

"Wait a minute, I hadn't thought of that but...has it been a whole night already?"

"A whole night and almost a whole day...I'm sure tomorrow will be better."

Robbe doesn't know what to think. Time has decided to move without asking him for an explanation. To the house of the boy he has had an exaggerated crush on for months.

When he wakes up he feels the urge to get up.

"Do you want to try walking?"

Sander. Was he always here with me?

"Yes...do you think it would be possible to walk all the way to the bathroom and maybe wash up a little?"

"I'll see what my mom thinks."

"Would you at least try to get me to the bathroom? I don't know how I've done it so far and I don't want to know, but I'd like to pee myself now."

Sander laughs.

"Whatever. Let me help you."

Sander helps me sit up then sits behind me and hugs me to help me get to my feet.

"Sander... Try to let go of me."

"What if I don't want to?"

I can't pretend he didn't say anything to me. Does he want to hold onto me? No, he's just afraid I'll fall. Yes he does. Handsome and kind. Practically perfect.

"I have to try to walk or I won't be able to come down for dinner. You can hug me later if you want."

Am I really flirting with him? What has gotten into me?

I try to walk and despite the twinges I manage to make it to the bathroom and do what I wished. But I hadn't reckoned on drying off and getting dressed.

"Sander... are you there?"

"Yeah sure."

"I need a hand..."

Sander helps me out of my bathrobe, dries my legs, and helps me get dressed.

He doesn't make any inappropriate jokes, in fact, he acts like a perfect nurse.

"Thank you."

"Do you want to try to get down and eat at the table?"

"Yes, I think if I don't start moving it will be more and more complicated."

Taking the stairs: what does rib pain have to do with taking the stairs?

"Would you... give me a hand, will you?"

"Tell me what to do"

"Just give me your hand."

Sander's hand in mine. Christmas was an underrated holiday.

"We're almost there."

We finish up the stairs but our hands don't decide to pull away. In fact, my thumb begins to lightly and shyly caress the back of Sander's hand.

Until his mother's voice forces us to break the moment.

"Ready to eat?"

"Yes, my stomach is starting to ask for food...thank you."

"Don't mention it, Sander told me what happened...we owe you."

I blush.

"Actually the stupidity of my friend and

Sander's strength to be himself, gave me the strength I needed, even to say who I really am."

Dinner had been perfect, Sander's eyes on me as I tell them about myself made me lose my train of thought several times; I hope they thought these mental lapses were due to Moyo's punches and not to the fact that I'm totally in love with Sander.

But now fatigue is setting in and Sander walks me to the bedroom.

"Sander, is this your bed?"

"Technically yes. But I sleep anywhere don't worry."

"Where exactly do you sleep?"

"Here, next to you..."

"Sitting?"

Sander looks embarrassed.

"Well last night yes. I was definitely anxious about you. But tonight I'm going to make myself a bed."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't let you sleep on the floor."

"You can't move from there."

He was right.

"I feel bad."

"You don't have to, I'm telling you I sleep everywhere."

I lie down in Sander's bed.

Sander's bed! I hadn't thought of that before. My dream had come true.

Not exactly how I wanted it to but,... let's think about something else. Christmas presents.

Sander brings a mattress and pulls it closer to the bed, sets it up and after several minutes in the bathroom slips under the covers.

When everything is shrouded in darkness I start talking:

"Would you take me to get the presents tomorrow?"

"Yes"

"Sander..."

"Tell me"

"I'm sorry about Moyo."

"Forget it. He’s hurt you more than me. In every way."

"Yeah...are you going to spend Christmas with your boyfriend?"

"That depends."

"On me?"

"Good night Robbe."

"Night."

[staywritten]

To Be Expected│Bang Chan

To Be Expected│Bang Chan

Synopsis: You sent your boyfriend to buy a pregnancy test, what could you possibly expect?

Genre: One shot, fluff, expecting parents

Word Count: 2412

Masterlist. AO3

This scenario also has absolutely nothing to do with my Dad!Chan series, this was just a one off idea and Chan’s my ult so I wrote about him again.

“Babe, which one am I supposed to buy?” Chris grumbled into his phone in English, taking salvation in hoping that the old man working couldn’t understand him. There was nothing more embarrassing than standing in a convenient store in the middle of the night looking at the various pregnancy test.

“I don’t fucking know Chris” you groaned pacing back and forth in your living room. “I haven’t done this before-just get all of them.”

“All? There’s like thirty different brands. Have you lost your mind?”

“Yes, Chris. Yes I have because SOMEBODY may have gotten me pregnant.”

“Don’t blame me for all of this, we’re a team. You’re equally responsible.” He sighed looking at the shelves “…Hmmm this should be fine right?” He shrugged, grabbing the more inexpensive of the brands. There was no way in hell he was going to leave this convenient store with only a pregnancy test. He grabbed chips, cookies, and drinks. Anything that’ll prolong the clerk from getting to the pregnancy test. “Babe, you want anythin?”

“Yes, I want to not be pregnant”

“Anything I can get you at the store?” he chuckled.

“Hmm maybe a bottle of soju?”

“How ‘bout somethin not harmful to the possible baby?”

“Good point... ice cream?”

“Deal” he smiled, tossing the ice cream on top and walking over to the counter. Fidgeting and clearing his throat as the clerk took out each and every item scanning and bagging them at arctic speeds. Luckily for him the old man wasn’t too talkative, but he did notice how he paused and side eyed him when he got to the pregnancy test. It was the same judgemental look he expected any grandfather to give him.

There was something about a pregnancy test.

The directions were so simple to follow. There really wasn’t any room for error, and yet you still had to read them over and over and over just to be sure you did it right. You even had Chris read over it a few times.

You set your alarm and then the anxiety set in. This was going to be the longest five minutes of your life.

How did you even wind up in this mess? You were always so careful. Very careful. You’d been on birth control for years it was like second nature to you. But one tiny slip up. One slight lapse in judgment. One bottle of soju too many and all your indiscretion was tossed out the window.

Laying on the bed with Chris you sighed. His king Charles spaniel Berry, tucked by the foot of the bed. It’s like your anxiousness was contagious. This was the calmest she’d ever been, it was like she was trying to ease your nerves. “…What if it’s positive..?” you fiddled with your nightshirt, your nerves restless. “What do we do?”

He smoothed down your hair in an attempt to calm you. “Then we’re gonna be parents.” he shrugged and laughed.

“…Can we afford to be?” you never wanted to be on a tight budget with a baby. You didn’t want to be in a position where you had to decide if you could afford to take care of another human.

“I mean we both have stable jobs. If anything we might have to dip into our savings to get by for a few months but we’re gonna be ok.” he shrugged “If we get desperate you know my parents will help out”

“Where are we gonna put a baby Chris…? There’s no room.” you released a deep sigh. You two had a nice little place. A one bedroom condo, with an office, that he’d turn into a studio. You never needed the extra room before but it became very apparent to you that children needed a nursery, maybe a playroom? Somewhere to explore and live, a place to grow, somewhere safe. 

A home.

“We’ll just get a bigger place” he gave you a warm dimpled smile. “We can get a house, with a playroom, and a little nursery for him, and a lawn.” he grinned. “I miss having a big back yard, running around in the back with my Dad, playing with my siblings...We can share all of that with him” he placed his hand on your stomach.

“Everything’s so simple to you isn’t it?”

“‘Course it is” he pressed a kiss to your hair line, brushing his nose down yours. “I love you, why wouldn’t it be simple?”

Then it dawned on you. 

This was a conversation you two never had. It just never came up, you knew he was good with kids and he always seemed like the kind of person that would want a big family, but you just never asked. Personally you wanted a family, maybe two kids but Chris was your partner, if he told you he didn’t want kids you weren’t sure what you would do. You loved him, but that was the one thing that could probably break your relationship, so you just avoided it. 

It was selfish, but you were scared. 

Before you knew it four years had passed. You two had a comfortable relationship, a cozy little apartment and dreams of the future. But was this something he wanted? “Chris...Do you want to be a parent?” you looked over to him. “No pressure but…? Would you want to?”

“You ask me this now?” he laughed ruffling your hair. “Of course I do. It’s a little sooner than expected but I always wanted a kid. And I mean we've been together for so long my Mum is pretty much just expecting it by this point.” he chuckled. “A little bub crawling around, I could even bring ‘em to work with me.”

“Really?” you sat up staring at him, a little dumbfounded. You partially expected him to say yes, you just weren’t expecting that much enthusiasm. “You thought about that?”

“Sure, little ankle biter at my shows. I can stay home with ‘em when you’re at work or I could bring him to my job. I’ll teach him all about producing and music. Whatever the Tike wants to know.” he chuckled “And it’s not like we have a shortage of Baby sitters, the guys could help out too”

He was always so passionate, and you loved that he was eager to pass that on. He was going to make such a great father. You turned on your side facing him, a smile on your face. “So you’ve already decided it’s a boy?” you brushed a hair out of his face.

He placed his hand on your stomach playfully. “Oh, a father knows. And that there is a boy.”

You laughed leaning your head on his arm and playfully hitting his nose. “I think you’re just afraid of a daughter.”

He leaned into you brushing his nose against yours, and a dazzling smile on his lips, his cheek dimpling. “Terrified.”

Pecking his lips, you grinned. “She’d have you so whipped.”

“Absolutely. Without a doubt. If she’s anything like you, the whole world will be hers.” he caressed your cheek lovingly. “She could just stare up at me with her beautiful doe eyes and I’d be a goner.” He brushed your hair behind your ear and smirked “Can’t let girls outnumber me between you and Berry I’m already weak, so I’m gonna hope for my little man.” seeing you laugh he couldn’t help but smile. “And she’d never be allowed to date so let’s hope for a boy”

He knew this was terrifying for you. You were almost shaking when you set down the pregnancy test. He needed to ease your mind. He had his own fears. Less so about financials and more so on if he would just be a good dad. Was he good enough? Was he gonna figure it out? Was he going to be the man you needed him to be? 

He wanted to be loving, he wanted to be their friend. But he needed to be stern. He wanted to raise them right. But he somehow knew he could if it was with you. “What about you Love? Girl or boy?”

You touched your stomach, mulling it over. “Hmmm… no preference. I just want them healthy.” Shrugging you looked at him. “Honestly, I would like one of each at some point. You ok with that?” you stroked his hand softly.

“Of course I am. We can have an army if you’d like”

“Woah, calm yourself. Let’s just take this one step at a time.” you giggled letting him pull you into his chest.

Suddenly being a mother was a lot less terrifying. You could picture it all so well now. You two could move into a new place after your lease was up. Paint the nursery, talk about baby names, pick out clothes. And you just knew your kid was going to be so loved. Between you two and your family, friends, and all of his members, they were going to have the best support system.

Hearing the alarm Chris jumped up. “You ready?”

“I-I…” shaking your head you covered your eyes. “I can’t look. You do it” That very anxiety that Chris worked so hard to disperse came rearing its ugly head.

He walked over to the counter in the bathroom and turned off the alarm on his phone. Walking out with the pregnancy test in hand he took a deep breath. “Ready…?”

“No. Yes. No” you groaned hugging the pillow to your body. “Yes-Ugh-Just tell me” your heart was racing a mile a minute. “Wait no” you huffed hugging your pillow to your body tighter. “I’m scared”

“Baby…It’s negative.” he set down the test on the dresser. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart broke. “I…Babe…I’m sorry I-”

“….what?” you dropped the pillow, to look at him. Berry instantly going over to you and nuzzling you with her nose. “No…” your eyes glazed over as you shook your head. “No?”

His shoulders slumped as he walked over to you. He placed his hand on top of Berry, rubbing her head. “It’s…negative.”

“Oh that’s…that’s good.” you swallowed hard, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. “What a relief…r-right?” your voice breaking at every word. “Everything’s fine. Back to normal.” you forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Babe?” he crawled on to the bed. “You ok?”

“No, I’m fine.” you sniffled. “I’m fine. I’m-” but the moment he pulled you into his arms the dam broke and you just lost it. “Why…why does it hurt…?” you gripped his shirt. “I didn’t even lose anything…right? So why does it hurt so much….?” you mumbled into his broad chest, your little hands clenching at his shirt. “I...Why am I crying… This is so stupid…” you sobbed.

“You know I love you right..? I love you with all my heart…We’ll get through this…” he rubbed your shoulders lovingly. “Baby it’ll be ok”

“Chris…I…I think I really…really wanted this baby…” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I loved them already and they never existed and I…”

“I’m so sorry…” he felt helpless, all he could do was hold you. He had to be strong for you, you needed him.

It wasn’t as if you two couldn’t just get pregnant on purpose. This was supposed to be a good thing, wasn’t it? Now you two could plan your future better, right? Wait until your married, even more financially stable and plan for a child. And yet you couldn’t help but feel at a loss. This beautiful picture of your family was slipping away from you. And it broke you.

“…I just…need a minute…” you wiped your tears, moving out of bed, and walking toward the bathroom. On your way into it, you stopped at the dresser, looking down at the heartbreaking test. “…Chris…There’s two lines…”

“Yeah…”

“Two lines mean pregnant” you whispered.

“No, it’s not. One line is pregnant.” he dug through the garbage to get out the packaging. Reading over it his eyes widened. “Wait…no it’s not…are you…?” he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Are we- Could it have changed?”

“Maybe? It’s been a few minutes. I have to take another test now.” you looked back at him a frantically. “Should I?” 

He nodded “I think we should” he grabbed his jacket “I’m gonna go buy a new one”

“I’ll go with you” you threw on a pair of sweatpants and followed him out. 

After another run to the convenient store, another judgmental look from the old man working, and opting for a more expensive brand you found yourself in that same anxious position.

Just waiting.

Both of you refused to leave the bathroom, wanting to see the results the moment it happened. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “Baby you gotta calm down” he laughed nervously, he could practically feel your pulse. 

“I can’t~” you whined “I’m trying but like I’m anxious, what if it’s negative again?”

“If it’s negative then we both start planning for a kid ‘cuz it became real clear that this is something we both want” he pulled you closer, kissing your hand. “You want this and I want this, so even if you aren’t pregnant in this very second, we’ll still have a family”

And after three minutes you checked the test with him. 

You stared down at the test, it was spelled out and yet you still had to re-read it a few times just to confirm. “Pregnant…” you looked over to him, still blinking in disbelief at the words before you. “That…that says pregnant right?” your eyes filled with tears showing him the test.

“It says pregnant.” he grinned, hugging you tightly. “We’re gonna be parents!”

“We’re gonna be parents!!!” you cried jumping up with him.

“I’m gonna be a Dad- you’re gonna be a Mum.”

“We’re gonna have a baby”

“God, I love you so much!!” he pulled you into a kiss, hugging you tight.

“I love you too Chris…we’re…we’re gonna have a family!” you cupped his face. Berry barked circling you two, happily.

End.

Hey Friends! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ I hope you guys liked that! I realised that I never had a simple one shot for Chan and needed to change that. 

Fun fact I actually wrote the scenario a few years back for a different person, so I changed it a bit for Chan. It was nice breathing some new life into it.

Tags: @skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo

[starryknight09]

Burning love

Febuwhump Day 22: burned

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter hadn’t been paying attention.  He knew better, but he’d been distracted thinking about the best way to ask MJ to the spring fling dance.  Even after Tony had harped on him over and over again about lab safety and always being careful and blah blah blah, which Peter thought was more than a little hypocritical because the other man was the antithesis of everything he preached about.

Regardless, one moment he’d been thinking about whether inviting MJ to the dance required flowers, and the next moment he forgot to move the hand holding together the two Ironman armor pieces so it accidentally got in the way of the welding torch he was using to meld the seam.  It happened so fast, for a split second Peter just froze in shock, staring at his damaged hand even though he couldn’t see much through his welding mask.  Then the pain hit him and he sucked in a sharp breath.  He fumbled with the blowtorch for a second before he managed to turn it off.  Flipping his safety mask up, he examined his hurt hand, no longer filtered through the mask’s lens shade.

“Oh shit.” He swore as soon as he noticed the streak of red blistering skin across the back of it.

“What?” Tony perked up from across the room.  Peter’s back was to him, so he couldn’t see what had happened.  “Did you screw something up?  You need some help?”

“Uh…no.  I’m uh I’m good.” He stumbled over the words because oh god ow his hand hurt.  He really wanted to run over to the sink and shove it under some cold water, but there was no way Tony wouldn’t notice that and he didn’t want him to know how stupid he’d been.  Tony would be pissed, and there was no reason the man needed to know when it should heal itself relatively quickly anyway.

“You sure?” Tony asked, only his voice came from much closer.  Peter put the torch down and turned around, careful to keep both hands behind his back while still trying to look casual.

“Yeah, I’m sure.  It’s fine.  Totally fine.”

“Uh huh.” Tony narrowed his eyes at him.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

Tony peered around him to look at the armor and Peter twisted so he stayed facing the man.

“See?  It’s fine.  I didn’t mess it up.” He said, voice tight because oh god oh god his hand his hand.  He’d been shot before and it hadn’t hurt this much.  What was it about burns that caused such exquisite pain?

When Tony didn’t find anything wrong with the armor he turned his gaze back on Peter, eyes narrowing as he studied him.

“Why are you sweating?”

“It’s hot in here.” He answered but it sounded more like a question.

“FRIDAY what’s the temperature in here?”

“It is currently 70 degrees Fahrenheit.” FRIDAY responded.

“Mmhmm so any clue why the spiderling here is sweating?”

His eyes widened.  

“I believe it is secondary to the burn he just sustained on his left hand.”

“FRIDAY!” Peter protested the snitching at the same time Tony snapped, “What?” and grabbed his arm, yanking it forward so his hand came into view.  The man swore as soon as he saw the burn and Peter’s face scrunched.  It looked even worse now than it had a minute ago.

“What happened?” Tony demanded even as he dragged him by the wrist over to the sink.

“It slipped.”

“It slipped?” Tony echoed in disbelief as he guided Peter’s hand under the stream of cold water.  Even though the coolness helped, the pressure from the water hurt.  He grit his teeth.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.

“How did it slip?” Tony asked.  “Aren’t your spidey powers supposed to keep these kinds of things from happening?”

Peter frowned.  Was he talking about his spidey sense?  “Um no.  I mean if some bad guy’s shooting at me then yeah, it’ll warn me, but it doesn’t warn me from myself because I’m not a bad guy.”

“That makes no sense.” Tony shook his head as he brought Peter’s hand out from under the faucet to look at it for a few seconds before shoving it back under again.

Peter winced and tried to explain, “Um it like senses intent?  So if someone wants to hurt me and then they try to it’ll warn me, but I didn’t want to hurt myself, I didn’t have any bad intent, so it didn’t warn me.  Does that make more sense?”

“No.  It should warn you either way.”

“Well, I mean yeah, that’d be nice, but it doesn’t.”

Tony huffed and pulled his hand out from the water again, turning off the faucet.  “Come on let’s get you to the medbay.”

“Oh.  No.  I don’t need the medbay.  We can just leave it.  It’ll heal in a day or so.” He protested even as Tony dragged him to the door.

“Yeah that’s going to be a big fat no.” Tony shook his head.  “We’re going to get this taken care of.”

Peter groaned.

**********

“So what are we dealing with here doc?  Is he going to be able to keep his hand?” Tony joked as Dr. Cho finished examining the burn.

“It’s a second degree burn.” Dr. Cho explained.  “But it’s over a relatively small area.  With his healing powers it should be completely fine in a couple days.”

“I told you.” Peter complained.

“I’ll put some burn salve on it and wrap it.” Dr. Cho said as she started gathering the necessary supplies from the cart next to the bed.  “I imagine it hurts, so once I’m done, I can grab you some of your pain pills if you want.”

“Oh no that’s ok.  I’m good.” He hated his pain pills.  They helped get rid of the pain, but they knocked him out too, and he didn’t feel like sleeping the day away over a stupid burn.  He’d come up for the weekend to spend time with Tony.  He wasn’t going to let a momentary lapse in judgment take that away.

“I’ll give a couple to Tony in case you change your mind.”

Peter sighed but didn’t argue.  She could give them to Tony but that didn’t mean he’d be taking them.

He watched as Dr. Cho slathered the burn in some cream and then wrapped it in gauze.  Once she’d finished, she handed Tony a couple pills and then gave Peter a small smile.  “You’re all set.  Stop by sometime tomorrow and I’ll take a look at it and re-wrap if it needs it.”

“Thanks Dr. Cho.” Peter said, jumping off the exam table, more than ready to leave.

“Back to the shop?” He asked as they walked out of the medbay.

“To do what?  You only have one working hand.” Tony scoffed.

“So do you and you manage pretty well.” Peter snarked.  Tony had survived after snapping the gauntlet but he’d paid for it with his arm.  He hadn’t let it slow him down, though.  He’d fashioned an even better one out of the same nanotechnology he’d used to make his suit.

“Not the same.”

Tony led them back to his rooms in the compound.  “Sit.” He ordered Peter.  “I’ll grab you some water.”

Peter actually listened for once and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote with his good hand and turning on the TV.

“So, tell me again how this happened or you’re losing your welding privileges.” Tony said as he handed him a glass of water.  “Actually, either way you still might.  I haven’t decided.”

He took a drink of the water before setting it down on the side table.  “I told you.  It slipped.”

“And I’m not buying it kid.  There’s no way it just ‘slipped’.” Tony put the word in air quotes.  “But if you keep insisting, I guess I’ll just have to have FRIDAY play the footage.”

It wasn’t an empty threat, and he knew if Tony watched it he’d see right away he hadn’t slipped.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes.  “I was distracted and I forgot to move my hand.  Happy?”

“No, I’m Tony.”

“Oh god that’s such a dad joke.”

“Don’t try to deflect.” Tony pointed a finger at him.  “You’re going need to explain more than ‘you got distracted’ before I even think about letting you touch that equipment again.”

Peter huffed in irritation.  “I was thinking about how to ask MJ out to the spring fling dance and I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

Peter instantly regretted the admission when Tony’s face split into a wide grin.  “A girl huh?  All of this is because of girl.  See, that I can believe.”

“Oh god don’t get all weird about it.”

“You need some advice?  Not that I’m the best one to give advice when it comes to romantic uh stuff, or so Pepper would say.”

“No.  I don’t need any advice.” He shook his head.

“Ok, so how are you going to ask her?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Sounds like you need advice.”

“No I—”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it kid.  Just go up to her at school on Monday and ask, ‘Hey MJ do you want to go to the spring ding—”

“Spring fling.” He corrected, not quite sure if Tony had butchered the name on purpose or not.

Tony waved a hand dismissively.  “—together?’  If she’s anything like you’ve described her, she’ll appreciate the straight forwardness.”

That was probably true, but part of him wanted to make it special.  “You don’t think I should get her like some flowers or something?”

“Flowers?  To get asked to go to a dance?” Tony pulled a face.  “I wouldn’t think so, but then again I haven’t been in high school in…actually never.  I skipped that part of my childhood.”

Peter smiled.

“You know what?  I think this calls for an expert.” Tony took his phone out and put it on speaker as it rang.

“Tony?”

“Hey Pep.  Quick question.  The kid wants to ask his girlfriend out—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter interrupted.

“You hear that?”  

“Yes I did.” Pepper said and Peter could hear the smile in her voice.

“Anyway, he wants to ask a girl out to some spring a ling dance.”

Yep, he was definitely doing it on purpose.  Peter didn’t bother to correct him this time.

“Does he need to get her flowers or something or should he just ask her?  I thought he should just ask her, but then he mentioned flowers, and I honestly have no clue how the kids are doing things these days, so we thought we’d check in with the master.”

“And that’s me?” Pepper asked in amusement.

“Yes dear.”

“Well, I think for once you’re right.” Pepper said and Tony did a little fist pump.

“Just ask her honey.  She’d be crazy to say no to you.  And then when she says yes, you can bring her flowers when you pick her up to go to the dance.  Ok?”

“Ok.” Peter responded.  “Thanks Pepper.”

“It’s no problem.  I’d wish you luck, but I know you won’t need it.”

“All right.  Thanks Pep.” Tony said.

“You’re welcome.”

Tony hung up.

“See?  Easy.  Now, if you’d just brought this up when you’d gotten here you wouldn’t have had to suffer.” Tony gestured toward his bandaged hand.

Peter rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t want to say anything because I knew you’d make a big deal out of it.”

“But I didn’t, did I?”

Peter side eyed him suspiciously.  “No.  You didn’t.”

“So, on that note…do we need to have the talk?” Tony asked, arching an eyebrow at him, but Peter could tell he was just messing with him.

“Oh god.  I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Tony laughed.

**********

Monday morning came and his hand had healed.  Only a faint red line remained and he figured it’d be gone by tomorrow.  As he walked in, he decided to commit to following Tony’s advice.  He fidgeted all through the first half of the day until lunch period.  He’d seen MJ in class, but he didn’t think that was the best place to ask her with everyone else around, so he waited until they were alone in the lunch line together before taking a bolstering breath and asking.  “Hey MJ?”

“Hm?” She replied distractedly as she read the book in her hands.

“Do you, uh…do you want to go to the spring fling with me?”

MJ looked up from her book and the barest hint of a smile crossed her face as she raised an eyebrow at him.  “Are you asking me out Parker?”

“Um yeah.”

“Like as a date.” She clarified.

“Yes…”

“Ok.” She gave him a nod and went back to her book.

“Ok?  So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.” MJ smiled but kept staring at the page in front of her.

“Ok yeah um great.  That’s great!  Uh, thank you.”

MJ snorted.

“I mean uh cool.  It’ll-it’ll be fun.”

MJ kept reading and Peter tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help pulling out his phone and texting Tony, ‘She said yes!’

‘Of course she did.’ Tony replied quickly.  ‘We’ll start brainstorming flower ideas next weekend.  But not around any heavy machinery.’

Peter smiled and shook his head.  That was actually something he didn’t need Tony’s help with.  He’d thought about it and already knew what kind of flowers he wanted to get her.  Actually, he wasn’t going to get her flowers at all.  A few months ago, she’d mentioned her favorite flower was the black dahlia because of its significance in the infamous Hollywood murder.  Since flower shops didn’t exactly carry bouquets of black dahlias, he’d searched online and found a black dahlia necklace.  The moment he saw it, he knew it’d be perfect.  He glanced back at MJ, unable to keep the smile off his face even as she kept her nose buried in her book.  The dance was only a month away.  He couldn’t wait.

[jasiper]

adore you

fine line series 3/12

you don’t have to say you love me

you don’t have to say nothing

you don’t have to say you’re mine

If Piper could go back in time, crash the wedding reception, grab her past self by the nape of her neck and drag herself out of the venue to give herself a good kick in the ass, she would.

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t crash her best friend’s wedding purely for the sake of not having sex, but in retrospect, she was being dumb. Completely and utterly idiotic. When it came to Jason, she seemed to lack the proper amount of brain cells to think Piper, maybe it’s a good idea not to sleep with your best friend again!

But it happened, time travel didn’t exist, so while she’s spending more time with Jason than ever, she’s also unable to fight the inkling that maybe after all this time, she is still in love with him, even after years of being apart.

How can she do this to herself? She spent years alone, maintaining a comfortable (yes, comfortable even though sometimes it was hard) distance between her and Jason. Sometimes there was a lapse of judgment, a night where the tensions got too high and they found themselves beneath the sheets, limbs intertwined and lips pressed to each other’s skin. They always manage to brush it off—an awkward laugh, averted eye contact, the walk of shame. It doesn’t stay awkward for long because by the next day, they’re texting and chatting like usual. It’s fine. It always ends up fine. Piper can still mash down her feelings and pretend it’s all okay.

Ever since Annabeth and Percy’s wedding, it isn’t just a one-time thing. It’s part of her daily routine. Wake up, coffee, work, dinner, she sees Jason, repeat. Maybe deciding on doing her last year of med school in San Francisco wasn’t her brightest idea, given that now she’s less than thirty minutes away from Jason at all times, but it’s too late to backtrack. She’s here now and he’s very obviously apart of her daily life, just as she’s apart of his.

It’s like their souls are intertwined. The Fates were probably having a field day with this. They tangled their strings of yarn together, tied several knots into them just for fun before seeing how well they can thrive. Even with the breakup, the several near-death experiences, Piper is sure their lives are even more connected. If she wanted to leave—which of course she doesn’t—she doesn’t think she’d have the ability to. It’s like there’s a bungee cord attached to them; if one ventures too far, the cord will restrict and pull them back together.

The wedding slip-up is a result of the cord being pulled too far. They spent too much time apart and when they were pulled back together, it lasted longer than it should have.

So now Piper is completely and utterly wrapped around Jason’s finger. She can’t even deny it at this point. So much for being just friends. The years of running away from her feelings finally caught up to her.

How can she not still have feelings for him? He’s her best friend, her shoulder to cry on, the person she trusts the most in the world.

Plus, he’s stupid pretty. Stupid pretty.

She’s never been fooled—it’s not like he was ever unattractive. He’s always been unfairly attractive. He’s just grown into himself now. His hair, which used to be cut short (Roman military style), has grown out, infuriatingly perfect. It’s hard to not run her fingers through it and pull him close and kiss him.

After sneaking away from the wedding reception a few months back, she finds herself doing that often. When they’re alone and they’ve run out of things to talk about, she tangles her fingers in his hair as she puts her lips to his, losing herself in the taste of his mouth.

It’s almost too easy to pretend that he’s hers when her tongue is in his mouth. She can delude herself for the time being—no one else is making him moan and flush and cause his eyelids to flutter. As much as she’s wrapped around his finger, she’s got him wrapped around hers, too. It’s the endless cycle of their relationship. Maybe if they weren’t so broken, they can take the final jump and say fuck it, let’s just try to date again.

But they’ve stared death in the eyes and they’ve figured out years ago that just because they’re broken, their pieces don’t necessarily fit into each other. They’re not a puzzle waiting to be finished. They’re broken glass, just random unfixable shards that have spent years trying to be reassembled.

That doesn’t stop Piper from hoping and praying to any god that is willing to listen to somehow bring them back together.

She’s selfish. She just wants him for herself.

But Jason Grace isn’t one to be owned. He’s the son of the king of the gods, pontifex, warrior through and through. He’s caused armies to fall, kingdoms to crumble. He wants domestic life—marriage, kids, a house with a big backyard. Even then, she can’t imagine her to be the one to be his wife in a suburban area. Their time has passed.

It still doesn’t stop her from wanting him to be hers. She doesn’t like sharing.

Right now, staring at his freckled back as he sleeps, playing connect the dots with the sunspots, she wants to be the only one to ever see him like this. Messy hair, skin pink against the white sheets, his back rising and falling with each breath. Who wouldn’t want this angel of a man to be theirs and only theirs?

For now, she’s the only one to be lucky to be in such a vulnerable position like this with him. That causes an almost painful, empty hollow feeling in her chest. This won’t be forever. This is just a temporary fix, a little fun before he goes off and settles down with a less broken person, someone who hasn’t flirted with death and almost paid the price for it. He’s worthy of someone who won’t scream in her sleep and push him away when things get hard.

Still. She doesn’t need him to love her. She just really wants him to.

The early morning sunlight is creeping through his blinds, turning his hair gold. Usually, he’s the one who wakes up around this time while she sleeps, but he’s had a long week. His breathing is slow, steady, clearly still asleep. She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of his heart against her cheek as she presses herself closer to his back, her arm hanging loosely off his torso. Maybe their broken pieces don’t fit perfectly, but for just a moment, she can pretend.

Several minutes pass and Jason’s breathing picks up, a clear indication that he’s waking up. Piper keeps her eyes closed, not daring to move, feigning sleep. She doesn’t want him to know she’s been awake this entire time.

With a low groan, Jason shifts in her arms, the sheets bunched up around them as he turns over. Her eyes remain shut as she feels his chest where his back once was, almost dropping the façade when she feels his hand cup her cheek. It isn’t until he presses his lips to her forehead is when she decides to ‘wake up’—her eyelids flutter and she forces a yawn as she gives an appropriate stretch.

Pretending to be asleep, she decides, is totally worth it. His cheeks are flushed a delicious shade of pink, a stark contrast to his sky blue eyes. She wants to lean forward and kiss every freckle on his cheekbone, but that feels a little less platonic than she feels comfortable with despite the fact he just kissed her forehead.

“Did I wake you?” Jason asks, voice wonderfully husky and heavy with sleepiness.

“Mhm, it’s okay.” Piper settles her hand on a shoulder, a place she deems as safe. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well,” he admits. “I needed that. Work this week was so tiring.”

There are still dark circles under his eyes. Piper runs her thumb just below his left eye and she says, “You seemed tired. We can go back to sleep if you want.”

Jason shakes his head and leans into her touch. She tries to ignore how her heart is beating in her throat when he murmurs, “No, you’re probably hungry. What host am I if I don’t make you breakfast?”

Piper almost wants to point out they’re hardly ever considered guests in each other’s apartments anymore—this is a routine event that occurs multiple times a week, but the thought of Jason cooking her breakfast makes her cheeks go warm. “Breakfast sounds nice.”

“Mhm.” Jason nods and sits up. Piper has to force herself to look away as the sheets fall and hang loosely around his hips. “Breakfast and maybe a shower after that?”

A shower sounds nicer than she wants to admit. She nods and slowly sits up, holding the sheets to her chest. “Can you make pancakes?” she asks hopefully.

He smiles and nods. “Of course,” he answers. He pushes away the sheets and Piper averts her eyes. She’s acting like she hasn’t seen him naked before because she knows if she looks, she’ll do something stupid, like blurt out her feelings for him, which is the last thing they need on such an uneventful morning. “Okay, I’ll start breakfast after I brush my teeth.” As if it’s the most casual thing in the world, he ruffles her hair before shuffling out of the bedroom in just his boxers.

Maybe there’s a part of her that does need his love, as pathetic as that sounds. A daughter of love who can’t even find the love for herself, someone who needs to love of another. It sounds so selfish; she’s already broken his heart once, he doesn’t need her to do it again.

Although now, she’s sure she wouldn’t break his heart again. She isn’t as hurt as she was when she was sixteen. She’s long accepted the demigod life and she wants to do it with him. 

Not that she’d ever say it. She bites back her feelings, again, settling for being the best friend who occasionally gets sex. It’s more than she deserves out of him, anyway.

It takes another few minutes of self-deprecating for Piper to haul herself out of bed. It’s hard to leave because Jason’s sheets are so soft, but she makes her way to the bathroom, grabs the toothbrush he keeps for her, and brushes her teeth. She tries to forget about the way Jason kissed her last night, how he kissed her forehead just this morning.

Is it so bad to want to be loved? Is it so awful to crave that? Maybe not, but this is her best friend, her first love. She wants to be adored but right now… Piper has to settle for this—the sex and nothing else. She can survive without the I love you and claiming each other as their own.

With a dramatic sigh, Piper forces Jason’s discarded shirt from the previous night on her body, choosing to put on panties and not her leggings as she makes her way to the kitchen, which smells heavenly of pancakes. By the time she slides into the stool at the counter, Jason’s sliding over a plate of pancakes, complimented with the perfect amount of syrup (he knows how much she likes) and strawberries and scrambled eggs. Her mouth waters and she digs right in.

“Hungry?” Jason teases, looking infuriatingly like a domestic husband cooking his wife breakfast after a long week of work.

What I would give to be the wife he’s cooking breakfast for.

Piper almost chokes on her pancakes at the thought. “Um, yeah. You wore me out,” she reminds him, having to force back a smile as his face turns a wonderful shade of red. “Are you telling me you’re not hungry from last night?”

Jason leaves over the other side of the counter, biting into his own stack of pancakes. “Starving,” he corrects as he chews. “Pancakes were a good idea, Pipes.”

She has to bite back her snarky remark, instead shoving her face full of strawberries. Making fun of him this morning isn’t on her agenda. At least not yet.

Staring is also not on her agenda, but it’s hard to do so when Jason’s hair is golden in the midmorning sun, freckles like constellations on his pale skin, lips so pink she wonders if they taste like bubblegum. (She’s kissed him enough to confirm his lips somehow taste better than bubblegum.) She wonders how sweet the kiss will taste as he eats his own breakfast. Will they taste like the coffee he drinks, or syrup, or the strawberries?

Maybe looking at him and focusing on his physical features will help her get her mind off the fact that her feelings are eating her insides away. So she continues to stare.

It isn’t until after Jason finishes his breakfast that he realizes she’s staring. “What? Is there something on my face?” he asks, instinctively reaching up to touch his cheek.

Piper shakes her head, pushing aside her empty plate as she props her elbows up on the counter. “Nope. I’m just…” She struggles for the right innuendo, hoping he’ll catch on, but knowing he’s too dense to do so. “I’m still hungry.”

“Oh.” Jason blinks. “I could make you more pancakes if you want. Don’t even worry about it.”

“No, Jason.” Piper leans even further over the counter. “I’m not hungry for food.”

It takes Jason a few moments to realize what she’s getting at. He flushes crimson, the color reaching to the tips of his ears. “Oh. Oh.” He laughs breathily and he reaches across the counter to twine his fingers in her hair. “Really? After last night?”

“Especially after last night.” Piper bites down on her bottom lip. She was right—being horny is easier than grappling the feelings that threaten to bubble over the surface. She can’t ruin the friendship purely because she’s still hopelessly head over heels for him years after their breakup. “Are you…”

Jason doesn’t answer. His lips do the talking instead as he closes the distance between them to give her an eager kiss. She’s right, his lips do taste like a sweet mixture of maple syrup and fresh strawberries.

“I said I was starving earlier, didn’t I?” Jason murmurs as he pulls away. He pushes himself away from the counter, holding out a hand to her. “Come on. We can shower after this.”

His hand is extended towards her and she wishes this was a different situation. She wishes he was asking for her love instead, asking her to be his. Asking her to adore him.

But he’s not. He doesn’t have those feelings anymore. All she’s capable of doing is pining and cursing her past mistakes because now she’s stuck in this zone, only able to kiss him but unable to love him the way she wants to.

This is all she can get, so she grabs his hand to at least feel like she’s adored. Even if it’s only for a little bit. Even if it’s only for a moment.

[rebelcap]

We are not just friends — Part 10

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she's brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.  

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually) 

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally. 

Series masterlist

Sofía was in a meeting with Chris's publicist, his assistant, and lawyer as they all went through the contract along with the brewery lawyers.

"My client had already told me to give whatever your asking," The lawyer spoke and Chris's publicist kept eyeing her. "so, this is more a formality."

"We already discussed it, just a photoshoot. We're going with the social media route of promoting." Sofia explained and the lawyer nod a few times, she was on the last page of the contract.

Sofía looked at his publicist and the woman kept looking at her phone and then back at her, multiple times like she was trying to figure something out.

What the fuck? Sofia kept thinking and she heard Chris's voice carrying from the other side of the co conference room. He had arrived a while back but Ron and his kid were giving him a tour of the brewery that was barely getting it together. Nothing was set up but the skeleton was there and Chris was delighted.

They still haven't really seen each other, until this very moment, the first thing he did was stare at her, puppy eyes and everything and Sofia was acting like she was already over it, guess Chris wasn't the only actor in the room.

Of course, Ron started his usual little speech as they signed the contracts, even cracked the champagne at nine o'clock. The photoshoot was going to be after lunch as the crew gets the things together—Ron had really splurged on the production, he really took it to himself on how much money he was saving.

Sofía could see from the corner of her eyes as Chris was discussing something with his publicist, she kept discreetly pointing in her direction as Chris looked something on her phone. He kept shaking his head no, getting quickly irritated.

When they both turned around to look at her, she quickly looked at the other way—attention back whatever she was doing.

"Sof," Chris called her, voice soft. She looked up and he was right there with his publicist. "I need to show you something."

"What is it?" She asked and the woman asked if they could speak somewhere else. "Yeah, the office." Sofia leads the way.

"Thanks for the privacy," The woman said, and Sofia nod. "I don't care what you two are doing but I do care about this," She said showing her the paparazzi pictures of Chris and her when she arrived at the stupid party yesterday. Sofia could practically remember everything they talked on that brief moment, her full face was on display.

"Oh," Sofia explained and blinked a few times. "Well, shit,"

"And you didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Megan." Chris cut her off and the girl just rolled her eyes.

"He's insisting that you didn't but I gotta ask, I'm just trying to protect Chris's privacy."

"Megan, come on," Chris interrupted her.

"Wait. Are you asking me if I staged this?"

"Did you?"

"Sofi, I know you didn't, you don't have to answer, look Megan—

" It's okay and no, I didn't. Chris you know I would never," Sofia said looking at him, whatever what had gone down last night she would never break his trust like that, she loved and value their friendship to do something like this.

"Yes, I know," He touched her arm, looking at her apologetic. "I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this, I was sure there was no one."

" I'm glad you weren't, I just have to ask. The pictures are already out and you guys were on the street there's not much we can do." Megan explained. "For now you're the 'mystery woman' but I'm sure with time they'll find out who are you." She locks her phone and put it in her purse and looked at Chris.

"Okay, I'll deal with it when it has to deal with it, I'm cool with it." Sofia shrugged and Chris stared at her.

"This doesn't bother you?" Chris asked.

"It bothers me for you because I know you're a very private person but no worries for me, I'm pretty much obscure on social media, all I do is tweet about how much I hate Donald Trump and re-tweet dogs pics."

"She does," Chris nods and she shrugged again.

"Okay," Megan said looking down at he phone again. "Do you wanna release a statement or…?"

"I prefer not brought more attention to it, I'll leave it like this," Chris said and sigh, looking a little bit defeated.

Megan, the publicist, finished up the talk and quickly excuse herself, leaving them alone in the office.

"We should probably," Sofia said looking at her watch and tried to walk past him but of course Chris wasn't going to just let her.

"Can we talk?" He asked and she sighs.

"Chris, it's really okay,"

"No, it's not. I'm sorry I disrespect you,"

"You obviously still had things to figure out and I just don't wanna be in the middle of that. We are friends, if you need to vent with me I'm here, always." Sofia explained, leaning against the desk with her arms folded against her chest.

"Sof, I already figured it out," Chris said walking up to her. "I don't, I don't want anything with her. It's done -

" Yeah, her tongue down your throat last night didn't necessarily say 'I'm done with her',"

" Shit. I know, can we call it a lapse in judgment? " Chris made a face, he truly didn't know how to salvage this. Sofia was difficult and stubborn and he had fucked up.

"Call it whatever you want," She shrugged and sigh deeply.

"Hey," Chris said grabbing her hands as she kept looking anywhere else but him. "Hey, look at me," She did and closed her eyes.

Don't Sofia, don't don't. She kept thinking because he was so fucking attractive, she just wanted to kiss him all the time.

"I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry. I was a complete asshole and I shouldn't even try to explain, I fucked up it was my fault."

"Yeah," She pouted.

"But, I did figure it out—" Sofia was about to interrupt him again but he was quicker. "I know it didn't seem like it, but I did."

"And?"

"I wanna be with you, Sof. I don't wanna be just friends—

"Are you fucking with me?" She squints her eyes at him and scoffed." I'm going just to pretend you didn't say anything because I like my job." Sofia muttered and walked out of the office.

"Jesus Christ," Chris muttered, running his hands over his beard and sigh.

~~~~

Christofer Robert Evans was relentless, couldn't take no for an answer and Sofia was about to snap at everyone at any giving moment. Between Chris trying to make a truce, Ron losing his shit constantly, his fucking son and friends that were fucking around the brewery, and on top of everything Amanda kept blowing her phone.

"Sofia," Ron called her and she walked up to him and his son that was chatting with Chris.

"What's up?" She said walking up to her and he took her to aside.

"I'm going to send you back to Boston for a while," He said and Sofia was about to cry.

"Oh God, thank you I fucking hate this place so much." She said making a face and Ron laughed at her expression.

"I know, I can see the amount of pressure that I've been putting you into this last couple of days and you did more than deliver. You deserve a little break,"

"Oh, man. Thank you," She sighed with relief. "Everything here it's pretty much set up, the machines are getting installed this week, everything with the bank it's already resolved, permits too. Thanks to Chris's lawyers, contractors are coming at the end of the month… I mean everything it's on track, at least for a week." She explained pulling out her cellphone and Ron was amazed.

"You pulled this off in a couple of days, I'm never letting you go, that's for sure," Ron said and made a gesture. "So, he likes you." He pointed at Chris with his mouth and Sofia roll her eyes. "And I thought you were only into Chicks."

"That's why your wife loves me so much and I have a weakness for pretty white dudes, it's pretty unhealthy if you asked me." She said with a smile looking at Chris for a moment. "it's complicated right now."

"Shit I bet, guess he's really into you by doing all this pro-bono. So, I'm going to be absolutely a greedy selfish man and said to trap this one." He said pointing at his finger and Sofia let out a laugh.

"No way, man." She shook her head. "Let's focus on beer and stop talking about my non-existent love life, after crazy bitch Tiffany. I'm done,"

"Yeah, and I thought my ex-wife was crazy, you definitely got it worse," He put a hand on her shoulder and murmur. "Good rebound, uh?" He pointed at Chris.

"Ay por Dios, Ron." She rolled her eyes and he laughed, walking away toward his son and started saying their goodbyes to a Chris.

"Ah, men. Listen, just be patient with her," Ron said to Chris while they shake hands. "She seems tough but she's all fragile inside, treat her right." The men said as he put another hand on his, squeezing a little bit.

Chris got the point right away.

"Yes, sir."

~~

Tag list:

@letsdothemonstermash

@lunaticbarnes

@firstangeldragonranch

@lovepeacefood

@thegirlwithpaperheart

[ibijau]

30 day otp - day Ten: Just in Case

10. J - Just in case. The otp+ has all their bases covered. Or at least they think they do…

oops, that got away from me a bit. Warning for some nsfw themes even if they don’t actually get to do anything because I suck as a writer /o/

It is so damn presumptuous of him to even think of buying that salve, as Nie Huaisang knows well. The apothecary, who caught him looking, told him that it was for intimate purposes, so he can’t even pretend that he doesn’t know.

It’s not what he’s here for. He came to buy some medicine, which he likes to do personally because the apothecary always has interesting stories and gossip to share, and doesn’t mind that Nie Huaisang asks too many questions about his wares. But while the old man went looking for the first part of his order, Nie Huaisang’s eyes started wandering as always, so the apothecary told him what that pretty little box contains, and now he can’t get it out of his mind.

Because the problem is that Lan Xichen will arrive to the Unclean Realm in two, maybe three days, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t know where they stand right now. After all, last time they saw each other, they…

His cheeks heat up just thinking of it.

Last time, Lan Xichen kissed him. And then they kissed each other. For a long, long time, until someone came looking for Lan Xichen to ask if he would be spending another night in Qinghe after all, even though he had said he’d be leaving that afternoon. That was when they’d realised that it was getting dark, and they’d been kissing for hours.

Nie Huaisang has desperately wanted Lan Xichen to stay longer. He wanted him to stay the night, he wanted him to stay for ever… but Lan Xichen had more important things to do than to make out like a teenager with the brother of his late best friend, so of course he had gone home. And they had exchanged letters since then, in which Lan Xichen assured Nie Huaisang of his affection, yes, but… but he had been writing that sort of thing even before the kissing. Damn, he’d been signing his rare letters to Nie Huaisang with affection even before Nie Mingjue died, so clearly it can't mean much.

Nie Huaisang sighs.

Everything is already so complicated. He misses his brother so much. It’s been a few months, but the pain of losing Nie Mingjue is still as vivid as it was on the first day. There are still mornings when he lays too long in his bed, body and mind heavy with the horrifying realisation that he’s alone, that he has to deal with so many things alone, and he’s not prepared for any of them. But, and that’s the really awful part, Nie Huaisang doesn’t even get to feel sorry for himself. His brother’s sect still needs to be run by someone, and he’s the only one left for that.

At least Lan Xichen had made things easier, up until that day. He showed up every few weeks, full of kindness and warmth and patience, helped Nie Huaisang deal with sect business, forced him to go to sleep at a decent hour, let him oversleep a tiny bit, gave him a chance to paint or play with his bird or do something else just for himself, and then he’d leave again. It was already more than Nie Huaisang would have ever dared to ask from the other man, and he was so grateful for it, but now…

Now Nie Huaisang doesn’t know where they stand. He hates that, and wishes Lan Xichen had never kissed him in the first place.

Hm.

So maybe that’s not true. Even Nie Huaisang can’t lie to himself convincingly about that. He is very happy that Lan Xichen kissed him. He’s dreamt of that since… since the Sunshot Campaign at the very least. He just wishes that they had talked about it before Lan Xichen left, so he knew whether this was a one time thing, or if Lan Xichen will want more of it, perhaps even to the point of…

And that damn pot of salve is there, taunting him.

It’s stupid, all they’ve done is kiss, and Lan Xichen has always been one to scrupulously follow his sect’s rule so he wouldn’t, they wouldn’t…

“Do you want me to add that to your order?” the apothecary asks, startling Nie Huaisang who hadn’t noticed he was back. “I’ve had a lot of compliments on it.”

It’s so stupid, and if Lan Xichen knew what sort of things Nie Huaisang is thinking about, he would never return to the Unclean Realm, nor talk to him again, and neither would Jin Guangyao.

But everyone who has called Nie Huaisang an idiot in the past must have been right.

He buys the salve.

Just in case Lan Xichen has another lapse in judgement.

Three days later, Lan Xichen arrives in the Unclean Realm. Nothing seems changed. He’s still kind and helpful, following Nie Huaisang to his office so they can work through everything that has happened since his last visit. Not a word is said about what happened during that visit, and Lan Xichen is so calm and collected that Nie Huaisang starts to wonder if maybe he just imagined all that kissing. With how little he sleeps sometimes, hallucinations wouldn’t be entirely out of the question.

It isn’t until they’re done working for the day and he walks Lan Xichen to his room (truly his: Nie Mingjue had one dedicated to his friend, which Nie Huaisang never changed) that a crack finally appears in the other man’s perfect composure.

“Do you want to come in?” Lan Xichen asks at the door, his voice wavering uncertainly.

They have worked for a few hours, and Nie Huaisang is a little exhausted, so it takes him a criminally long time to figure out why Lan Xichen would invite him into his room at such an hour. For a minute or two he just blinks tiredly, trying to think of a polite way to explain that he’d love to stay and chat, but he really should go sleep.

Then it hits him that the offer is probably not about chatting at all, and his entire face heats up in a second at the realisation.

“You want to…”

“Only if you do,” Lan Xichen quickly mumbles. “If you don’t… if it was just that time… I will not force expectations on you, of course.”

Nie Huaisang stares at him as if he’s gone crazy. As if between the two of them, Nie Huaisang is the one who would have any reasons for second thoughts. 

Rather than to reply to such a stupid statement, Nie Huaisang steps closer and grabs the collar of Lan Xichen’s robes, rising on his toes to kiss the other man. He means to keep it short since he’s just trying to make a point, but Lan Xichen wraps his arms around his waist to pull him closer still and kisses him back with a passion that leaves Nie Huaisang light headed. 

It takes impossible effort for them to actually get inside the room, because opening the door requires them to stop kissing, and neither of them is particularly willing to do that. They still manage though, if only to avoid being seen by servants or Nie disciples. Once inside the room, it only feels natural that they end up sitting on the bed, isn’t it? It’s the most comfortable place for two people to sit side by side, Nie Huaisang isn’t planning anything, it just happens.

It also just happens when Lan Xichen gets pushed on his back and pulls Nie Huaisang on top of him, the two of them clinging to each other as they continue kissing. Nie Huaisang doesn’t have any specific intentions, he just does what feels right, ready to stop the instant Lan Xichen tells him he’s crossing a line.

That instant never comes.

Lan Xichen happily lets himself be kissed, sighing when Nie Huaisang leaves his mouth to pay attention to his jaw, to his long and perfect neck, to that sliver of chest he manages to free from the billion layers of fabric that the Lans always wear. Nie Huaisang is so dedicated to that task that it takes him by surprise when he feels strong, slender legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down against Lan Xichen’s body and he can feel…

He gasps, his eyes snapping toward Lan Xichen’s face, only to meet the other man’s burning gaze on him. His mind in a haze, Nie Huaisang adjusts their position so they are pressed against each other just right. Lan Xichen lets out a raspy breath at the sensation, his legs tightening slightly around Nie Huaisang’s hips.

Nie Huaisang kisses Lan Xichen again, letting instinct take over as he presses down on the body under him, his hips moving of their own accord. He can’t believe this is real, but there is no way he’d manage to imagine something this good. This is real, it’s happening, Lan Xichen is there under him, holding him, and...

He forgot the salve. 

Nie Huaisang bought that thing, like an idiot, and now he left it in his room, like an even bigger idiot. He just didn’t want to act presumptuous, didn’t want to have expectations when he couldn’t know what Lan Xichen might want… well it’s obvious enough what he wants now, and Nie Huaisang is an idiot who messed up.

“We’d need… if you want this, we…”

“I want it,” Lan Xichen whispers, so earnest that Nie Huaisang almost moans just from hearing the words.

Even without salve, there’s plenty they can do. Nie Huaisang feels himself get harder just at the thought of Lan Xichen’s clever fingers wrapped around him, and he’d give anything for a chance to take the other man in his mouth. Or he could press himself between Lan Xichen’s thighs, that should be manageable without anything but spit to ease the way. The other thing can wait, it’s fine. Nie Huaisang will be grateful for anything that Lan Xichen lets him have. He’s about to say as much when the other man loosens his grip on him, making Nie Huaisang fear he changed his mind.

Instead, Lan Xichen fumbles with his sleeve for a moment before one trembling hand pulls out a small container. He hands it to Nie Huaisang, his face a beautiful scarlet and his eyes avoiding the younger man’s.

“I thought. I thought it would be best to be prepared for any eventuality.”

There are no words left in Nie Huaisang’s mind. He stares at the container, and feels his entire body burn with the realisation that Lan Xichen really wants him. Not just an impulse decision, not just a lapse in judgment. Zewu-Jun, the First Jade of Gusu Lan, the most attractive bachelor of their generation, wants him. Enough to be willing to break rules. Enough to prepare for the possibility of sex. Lan Xichen wants him.

Nie Huaisang wants to laugh, and he wants to cry. He settles instead for kissing Lan Xichen as if his life depends on it, amazed again to find his enthusiasm more than matched.

Lan Xichen wants him.

And Nie Huaisang is more than happy to let Lan Xichen have him then, in all the ways the other man might choose.

[drtwit]

Character Arcs: The Four Points of Establishment

Reposting old essays, so information discussed might be a bit out of date, but the core is still relevant.

I want to explore character arcs from a mechanical perspective and break down what I see as the most fundamental elements to making a successful one, because RWBY doesn't really handle them well.

Now, I'd say the easiest way to describe a character arc is that a character overcomes a hindrance of their own design. You can boil a character arc down to a journey across four separate points; lets calls these the 'Four Points of Establishment' that character arcs tend to hit in that order.

Establish Hindrance - You must show the audience what the hindrance is, what's holding the character back and how hard a thing it could be to overcome. What is the goal of said arc. Pretty basic, you start out most things by establishing what they are.

Establish Need - This is important to getting the audience to get invested in the arc, you need to establish why the character needs to have this arc. What happens if the character does not complete their arc? Why is this important to the character? Fundamentally, I'd say that the need should conceptually be that the hindrance is in some way challenging the character's role in the narrative. The character is the leader who takes their job very seriously? The need can be that their hindrance endangers their team and holds them back as a leader, their role as the leader in the narrative is being challenged because of their own flaws.

Note - I'm not saying that the hindrance can't be internal or personal, I'm trying to say that if it's presented too 'internally' you run the risk of keeping your audience out of the loop and not actually experiencing the character's situation. It's something we assume is naturally happening off screen. The need is a matter of presentation more than anything. When I say that, at worst, they'll bad, I misspoke, as I was trying to demonstrate that the story is doing nothing to present them feeling bad as a driving force or something to care about, because it's assumed rather than experienced. Hope I'm coming out clearer. 

Like, how Ruby is supposed supposed to have a problem where she's hiding the pain behind her positive attitude. But it's harder for us to give a damn about Ruby supposedly going through this because aside from Ruby having a token mention once or two to say 'I'm totally suffering and it's real hard guys', we're just told to assume that all the interesting internal problems she's experiencing are happening, we just can't see them. In a show where you can't get inside the character's head, you need a more external showing of your character's state.

Establish Catalyst - The audience needs to see why the character changes, the journey that they're taking and struggling through to prove both how important the arc is to them and how it's not something that they could have easily dealt with before they wasted your time for an entire season of development. This usually goes hand in hand with displaying the need. Back to our leader example, they at first deny such a hindrance exists, but because of the character's hindrance, the team is put in danger, the character is faced with this and works to overcome this.

Establish Result - The final stage of an arc is showing us the culmination of this journey, what has changed in the character now that they have overcome their hindrance. The most basic way this is done is have a repeated situation where the character at the end of their journey is placed in a similar position to one they had at the start only to make a different decision. If the other points have been established well, this should easily be satisfying because not only has the character improved, but you got to feel just how important it is to the character that they did.

Now, where do I think RWBY falters on this? Lets use the tension between Blake and Yang in volume 6 as an example.

Hindrance - Yang and Blake have unresolved tension because of a mistake made in the past, one that neither reacted well too because of their tragic backstories. Blake is too used to seeing herself as a worthless danger to those she loves and thus runs to protect them, while Yang has abandonment issues and deep insecurities that make Blake's disappearance in her greatest moment of weakness devastating as well as ptsd on top of that.

Need - Now, this is where many people, Rooster Teeth included, falter. It's not that they don't establish a need, it's that the need is more self contained and assumed. The need here is that if Blake and Yang don't resolve their problems... They'll probably feel bad. The hindrance only really hurts them on an internal level that, at worst, will have them verbally say 'Dag nabit, this is not good'. It doesn't effect the story or any of the characters around them, it doesn't really effect them because their attitude and action remain the same. Yang and Blake, as character, are not challenged or inhibited by this arc not being completed. Their teamwork isn't dampened, their interactions don't change and it only comes up when they're safe.

Catalyst - As a knock on effect of the need being so minimal and self-contained, the journey there is empty. They can't struggle or have actual self-reflection because the lack of struggle gives them nothing to think about or anything to change. Yang and Blake get over it because the plot says they're over it now, but there's not journey to this point. it's pay off without build up.

Result - See why these are in a specific order? Because it effects the entire flow. There is no result. They were never externally effected by the hindrance and thus there can't really be any resulting change to satisfy anyone. If you cut out this entire arc, you wouldn't notice at all because the character remain the same as they were and nothing was allowed to effect the narrative.

Rooster Teeth seem like they play it too safe with their character arcs. They want the characters to develop, but they also don't want to make the characters face any sort of consequence that puts them in the any sort of wrong. When I look at RWBY discussions where a character has any sort of screw up or lapse in judgment, there's always a legion of excuses for what the character has done. Which, in my opinion, is a terrible thing for characters. Your character should do something where they're in the wrong and it can't be excused, where they have to realize what they've done and apologize. Rooster Teeth likes to have it that both characters involved in the arc are in the right, but that just makes it so that their improvement seems pointless. If they're both right, what's the hindrance?

To better illustrate my thinking, I'm gonna put up an old piece I wrote up about how I'd improve the Yang/Blake conflict:

You know, I keep seeing people, commenting on Yang and Blake stuff, scoff at the idea of Yang getting mad at Blake for abandoning them. "Blake had good and understandable reasons for leaving, so it would just be stupid for Yang to be mad at her"

Yeah, THAT'S WHY IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD PIECE OF CONFLICT

Yang has abandonment issues and won't look at it in the calmest and logical light, her getting mad at Blake for this would be a rather mean-spirited and narrow-minded thing to say; which is a good thing for character-writing. It would be character conflict that comes naturally from what we know of the character instead of the Telltale 'Character suddenly becomes an asshole to get a conflict going'.

With this, one of two things would most likely happen:

1:

Blake would defend herself and point out how unfair Yang was being to her, with maybe even Weiss jumping in to have her speech from Volume 5, leading to Yang being a bit of a grump towards Blake for a lot of Volume 6, having her either avoid or be blunt whenever Blake tries to talk to her. Their teamwork is also affected by this. You have scenes of Blake trying to patch things up, only to fall flat as Yang gives her the cold should, ending with Blake giving up and just snapping at Yang. Then the Adam fight happens, Yang comes busting in on Bumblebee, Adam takes advantage of their souring teamwork to own most of the battle. Adam gets a shot at Yang, but Blake get's in the way, taunts Blake about the scar, prompting Yang to realize that Blake probably feels just as vulnerable as she does after losing that arm; realizes she's been a prick, apologizes and promises to be a better partner.

2: Blake would, despite not being in the wrong here, agree with Yang and accept the blame. Blake has a lot of self-loathing and is used to blaming problems on herself (And this would be a good situation where it wouldn't come off as a martyr complex). Hell, this would be a good time to enforce the consequences of the abuse Adam supposedly heaped on her, how she's become just so used to her loved ones being hurt by her. For Volume 6, she spends her time disconnected from everyone else because her self worth has reached an all-time low, her combat ability hampered by her now inability to work with her team and her blaming every small failing on herself. When the Apathy happens, it comes mainly to illustrate just how far she's falling, where the Apathy's influence makes her near suicidal ("Everything's fine, Ruby..."), which afterwards has Ruby or Weiss confronting Yang in private about the clear issues her partner is having.

Yang is unsure of how to proceed or how to even make things better. When she goes to try and apologize to Blake, Blake just keeps deflecting everything and saying that Yang was right, she deserves a much better partner. Then, Adam happens. Blake barely fights back, Yang enters and... She hears Adam's taunts, she hears him ranting about all the promises that Blake broke, all the things he did for her, how she hurt him worst of all. And then Yang remembers all the way back in volume 3, after she broke Mercury's leg, where Blake told her that Yang reminded her of someone. This makes Yang fully realize Blake's situation, the effect Adam had on her and Yang's own actions. Yang is forced to confront what she could become if she let her emotions drive her and keeps herself bound by that one tragic incident where her own flesh and blood abandoned her, as well as what she's done to Blake.

Adam charges up a moon slice and goes in to end Blake, but instead of Blake pulling another clone trick, Blake makes no move to try and dodge. She's alone with the two people she 'betrayed' and she's willing to accept the punishment she deserves. However, Yang jumps in the way and the moonslice once more cuts off her arm, the robot one this time, leaving Yang shaky and handicapped. Blake cries out in terror at Yang's predicament, but Yang stops her to yell back her own apologies. She's sorry for the way she acted, sitting that she failed Blake as a partner and only now realizes what Blake was going through. There's a speech about Yang letting her judgment get clouded, how Blake isn't worthless, how Yang was just so afraid of being abandoned again that she couldn't see the reasons why Blake left, ect.

"Right now, we have a restraining order to file on an ex. But, I seem to be missing an arm, so... I'll need a partner. Know anyone, Blake?"

The two work together to beat Adam, they make up, they promise to be better partners and Blake crying about how she won't leave again makes sense this time.

Both of these not only force Yang to confront her issues and how they still affect her, but also bringing full circle what Tai was trying to teach her: She originally took his advice about not letting herself be emotionally driven as just something to apply to combat, but it also applies to how she interacts with her friends as well (This would also semi-relate to how in the other fight happening, Corvo endangered an entire city simply due to letting her wounded pride and anger drive her) as well as semi-relating to the Faunus storyline of letting one situation paint every person's action.

And that's my piece that's gone on way too long in the tone of that english lit teacher you wanted to throw out of the window. To complete this joke I will remind you that I EXPECT YOUR HOMEWORK ON MY DESK BY FRIDAY, NOON, AND NOT A SECOND AFTER!